
Sign up to save your podcasts
Or


Send us Fan Mail
Stephanie is turning 30, living in London, and stressing over “by age 30” comparison-itis.
She plans the party carefully: bowling, a couple hours of low-stakes fun, and invitations go out two weeks early, like any sane Virgo would do. Then the night before, the cancellations start rolling in.
Two or three people show up. It's a good time. But - it's not the milestone she pictured.
This is the story of a birthday that taught her she'd been letting other people decide her worth, and the smaller, deeper kind of connection where she actually thrives.
Send us Fan Mail
Years into bartending at a hotel, Stephanie got called into HR over a hotel bartending audit gone sideways, and wrote a four-point counter letter she refused to back down from.
The letter goes into her file and is never mentioned again.
It's only years later, decluttering her apartment, that she finds it - and finally understands why it made her so angry. This is the story of a fight that was never really about ID-ing a guest for alcohol service.
Send us Fan Mail
Stephanie finds her first LA acting class the only way she knows how: Craigslist. She shows up to an audition in a converted craftsman near Hollywood, gets three lines into her scene, and every word she memorized disappears.
She doesn't panic. Outwardly, anyway. She stalls, catches up with her scene partner, and finishes the audition convinced she's blown it. The director disagrees.
This is the story of the moment she found out what she thought was a failure was actually a superpower, and the community she didn't know she was walking into.
Send us Fan Mail
Stephanie gets a tarot reading. One of the invitations that comes up: go buy some paint and a canvas and see what happens.
She's never really been drawn to painting. But she goes to the art supply store, grabs the cheapest smallest canvas she can find, and gives herself one instruction: try to do it badly.
What she figures out - about expression, about pressure, about what it actually feels like to be done - turns out to be the whole point. And a pretty good note to end a season on.
Send us Fan Mail
Stephanie is standing outside her old apartment building in Hamburg. It's snowing. The Alster has frozen over. She can see the picture window of her old living room from the street.
She doesn't go in. It's not her space anymore. But she wanders the little garden out front, takes some photos, and starts doing the math on what that younger Stephanie actually pulled off - first apartment, foreign language, no floors, German tax law, a whole life built from scratch.
This one's about giving yourself credit for the things you just did because they needed doing. And why that's harder than it sounds.
Send us Fan Mail
Stephanie is on set in New York, playing a prosecutor, phone hidden under a pile of fake files, waiting between takes to find out if HR approved her leave of absence.
They did not.
What follows is a masterclass in in-between-takes crisis management - a denial email with a non-compete clause, a coach being frantically texted from a phone, a full catastrophizing spiral that ends at Denny's, and a very clear line in the sand.
This is the story of the moment Corporate made the decision for her.
Send us Fan Mail
Stephanie flies home from Prague with no job, no money, and no plan. The next morning, there's an email: job offer, China, one year.
She's pretty gung-ho. Her parents are restrained. And then her dad pulls her aside - which he didn't do very often - and asks one quiet question: can you actually do this?
This is the story of that conversation. And the slightly embarrassing internal negotiation that followed. (Two seasons. She decided she could do two seasons.)
Send us Fan Mail
Stephanie lands in China on a Tuesday. By Thursday she's standing in front of five classes at a public school, making it up as she goes, with no Chinese and a stack of Xerox copies. Friday she's at a completely different school with air conditioning and colored walls.
Then 40 seven-year-olds say "hello, teacher" all at once - and something clicks. About teaching. About language. About how she'd been going about all of it wrong her whole life.
Send us Fan Mail
Stephanie started a housing arbitrage business to escape bartending and buy time for her acting career. It was supposed to be a side hustle. It was not a side hustle.
A year and a half in, she's waking up stressed, anxious every time her phone buzzes, and heading toward a breakdown — while the business is, technically, succeeding. Then her coach asks one question: if you had to put a price on this business, what would it be?
It had never occurred to her that she could sell it. That she didn't have to stay married to it. That she could get a divorce.
Send us Fan Mail
Somewhere in China, sitting on her bed with the air conditioning running, Stephanie catches herself wondering if she's feeling things wrong. Not too much — just... not enough. She knows she feels deeply. But something isn't getting through.
Years later, in London during her MFA, an improv exercise cracks everything open. She collapses. Her knees give out. She sobs for 15 minutes straight. Which, if you know her, is not a thing she does.
This one's for anyone who's ever had to push it down to get it done. You know who you are.
From the publisher's feed
Stories from inside a creative life — the messy middle, the pivots, the parts that don't make the highlight reel. For anyone living a life that doesn't fit neatly in a box. Hosted by Stephanie…