It was a blur of words, a daze of sentiments. Collecting my sadness, I closed my eyes. I looked inside myself trying to find a way to trust God again. I was mad at Him for leaving me behind. Yet, I prayed anyway and prayed honestly. Poppy, give me strength. I took a deep breath. Amen. Then shuffled my way to the front of the church.

“Most of you know Anthony was an amazing writer. He was a great kisser too, but that’s not what I’m here to tell you about.” The church giggled. “I’m going to read an e-mail he wrote me at a time in my life when I needed answers. He was such an amazing writer. His words could save you. His words could wrap themselves around you and protect you. You could fall in love with his words. I did. Okay, maybe it helped he was a good kisser…” The church giggled again. “I wanted to share with you an e-mail he wrote me, exactly a year ago. I’m sorry if I choke on his words…” I turn to the reverend, “And I am sorry I am about to swear in church.”

From: le_samurai

To: chasityrae

Sent: Wednesday, July 27, 10:22 a.m.

Subject: i couldn’t attach the song i wanted to send with this…

and that sucks because it was perfect

i am scared

of being scared…

and so,

i am not.

even if i am. 

for too much of my life,

at the worst times, some random times

and inevitably embarrassing times,

my hands have shaken…

despite me.

my efforts to focus.



and it is a sad betrayal

when your body gives up your mind,

shows that which you would conceal,

that which you cannot…

but something good

has come out of it…

and that is,

i know i still must act.

must push through it,

must do whatever it is.

fear is familiar.

and so,

when it comes

i know what to do.

“my fear is my only courage

so i have to push on through…”

— bob marley

i know…

i can’t believe i just quoted bob marley either,

but it came to mind,

and even if i sound like

a college freshman…

it helps the point.

despite your efforts

to illustrate the contrary,

i don’t think you are fearful.

i think you are bold.

and i think you are beautiful.

i think you are bold and beautiful.

but there is something inside of you,

something i have seen:

a strength. steadiness. courage.

as opaque as you are.

it is easy to see.

perhaps you are scared now,

frozen by the fear you feel

because you don’t know

how to handle it…

fear is not familiar for you. 

we are defined by

who we are in crisis…

you are overwhelmed. 

so quit your fucking whining

and do something about it.

something amazing.

because that is who you are.

that is what i see.

Excerpted from the e-memoir, even if i am, by Chasity Glass (Shilhon House). The book is available at,,,, and by emailing the author at


Chasity Glass

I grew up in rural Minnesota, not far from Lake Superior. I have a Minnesota accent on certain words like bag and home and about, though I try not to say ‘eh’ too often in conversation. I’ve spend the last twelve years living in Los Angeles working in film marketing, producing movie trailers for Warner Bros., Disney, Sony and Paramount (to name a few). Before that I worked as a gas station attendant, a maid, a nanny, a model, a clothed hostess at a topless restaurant, a medical insurance biller, a landscape designer, and now writer. After my husband, Anthony, died of colon cancer in 2005 - somewhere between crippling grief and editing the Free Willy 4 trailer staring Bindi Irwin, it was time for me to take a break from producing. I took needed physical and emotional distance from my LA life and spent three years writing while exploring Italy, Bali, Australia, France and Spain before landing on Martha’s Vineyard to finish the last chapters of my memoir.

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