Thank You for Anchoring Me
One year after Because Fat Girl launched, I’m reflecting on the gratitude, the unmooring after a dream comes true, and the community that kept me steady.
My novel Because Fat Girl is officially one year old, and two dominant feelings have defined my life since its release.
1) Gratitude
First and foremost, I’ve spent this past year feeling immense gratitude.
The number of people—strangers, friends, and family alike—who have shown up for me and this book has made my heart grow immensely and strengthened my faith in humanity, community, and the power of stories.
You didn’t just read this novel—you shared the profound effect it had on you, celebrated its diversity, and championed the queer stories within it. Every one of those actions supported not only me, but queer, fat, neurodiverse authors and readers everywhere.
I believed this book would make waves, but I don’t think I truly understood how needed it was until I sat in signing lines hearing your stories, replied to your DMs, and read your letters.
It was my goal to reply to every single one of you personally, but to be honest, the attention and response were a lot—even for an extrovert like me. So if I haven’t yet told you this: I appreciate you.
Thank you, thank you, thank you. From every single molecule in my body—thank you.
2) Unmooring
The second feeling has been sitting alongside my gratitude for the past year. Not taking away from it, but accompanying me on the journey.
It started before the book even came out and took me months to define. After pages of journaling, hours with my coach Steph Jagger, and a few deep meditative sessions, I finally found the right word to describe how I felt once Because Fat Girl was out in the world: unmoored.
If you aren’t familiar with this term, let me break down its components for you:
Unmoored: “to loosen from, or to cast off moorings”
Moorings: “a place where or an object to which something can be moored; an established practice or stabilizing influence”
Moored: “to secure a boat; to fasten to with cables, lines, or anchors”
Anchor: “something that serves to hold an object firmly; a reliable or principal support”
The word “unmooring” first came into my vocabulary when Rachel Maddow’s team sent me a personalized, signed copy of her book Drift (yes, I’m bragging — it’s one of the best things that came out of running Queerie Bradshaw, my lesbian sex blog!). In it, she describes the “unmooring” of American military power.
I took a lot away from that book as both an activist and an American citizen, but the concept that stuck with me most was this idea that a person, place, or country could lose its anchor and begin to drift away from its stabilizing force.
For twenty years, I chased a book deal. Thirteen of those years, I was actively pitching to agents — of which I’ve had four. Because Fat Girl was my third book to go out to publishers, and it was finally published seven years after I wrote it.
A traditionally published book had been my North Star—the thing that lit my way when I felt lost. My anchor.
I thought that once it was here, I would feel at peace, as if I’d made it across the rough seas and finally settled into a home port.
Instead, I’ve spent the last year completely unmoored, wandering the creative seas, wondering where to go next.
Where those travels took me is a story for another letter, but they involved equal parts journaling, having orgasms, and eating Mexican food—usually in that order.
Throughout it all, I kept asking myself:
When your dream comes true at 42, what do you do next?
When you’ve got nothing left to prove, what motivates you?
What does it look like to build a bigger dream for yourself and your community from a place of love, joy, and gratitude?
About a month ago, I settled on a new direction for where I want to take my creative self and my company, School for Writers—and I’m excited to share that adventure with you in these letters. (You can see some of it already here.)
Before moving on to what’s next, I want to honor what’s been.
Twenty years of writing books.
Thirteen years of pitching those books to agents and publishers.
Seven years of working to get Because Fat Girl out into the world.
One year of seeing a dream come true—watching Because Fat Girl appear in bookstores and airports across the U.S. and being read around the world.
It’s still surreal. It’s still a dream. And I’m still filled with so much gratitude for every moment.
Through it all — the hard work, the joyful celebrations, even the unmooring— this community has been my anchor, the thing that has kept me grounded and alive.
So I’ll end this letter where I began: with immense gratitude.
Thank you, friend, for being part of this community.
I couldn’t do this without your support—and I wouldn’t want to.
With so much love and gratitude,
Lauren
P.S. In honor of the one-year anniversary of Because Fat Girl, my publisher is offering 70% off the audiobook – which I narrated! Listen in right here.
All your options to grab a copy for yourself or a friend, are available here. It makes a great holiday gift and is a fun weekend read.