Recently, my husband Scott wrote a beautiful, vulnerable article about the reality of our love story. The truth about “us” before we separated and got back together. I love him for many reasons, but his ability to own the shadow parts of himself is at the top of the list in my book. While he’s talked openly before about the part he played in our marriage unraveling in 2014, he felt compelled to pen what he did because of what he sees me endure on a weekly basis. What is that, you ask? Well, in a nutshell, it’s shame. And I’m not talking about the shame I will always feel for choosing to go down the rabbit hole with Tony. I’m talking about shame that’s heaped on me by other women. I’m so used to it that in some ways, I’m becoming numb to it. I’ve come to expect it. So, it surprised me a few days ago—while I was on a Zoom call with three incredible, intuitive powerhouse women in Hollywood—I teared up hearing them say how grateful they were that I wrote Little Voices. They talked about how much it helped them in their own lives, and how much my story needs to be seen on screen. For reference, they are all younger than me ranging from late twenties to forty-something in age. I normally keep it together on film/tv development calls, but not this time. I was so overcome with gratitude that I choked up. I even told them why what they said meant so much to me. In a nutshell, I told them that more times than not when speaking with other women, one of the first things they do is shame me.
These are just a few of the things I hear on a regular basis. Of course, I expected to take some heat when I wrote Little Voices and, again, I will always regret my actions with Tony, but I knew my story would help others who were going through something similar. I wish a story like mine had been out in the world when I was going through what I did 10 years ago. (There are plenty of them...I know this because they write to me privately.) I knew my memoir would help others, especially childhood sexual abuse survivors understand that if they haven’t healed their childhood wounds, they have about an 80 percent chance of unconsciously manifesting similar abusive in adulthood. You see, our subconscious (where our wounds are housed) drives 80 percent of our behavior. Psychologists call it “wounded attachment,” a term I knew nothing about until I was a shell of myself in 2017 having lived through three years of abuse at the hands of a charming sociopathic sexual predator. (Full circle, eh?) Still, while the whole concept of wounded attachment is incredibly important, it’s not why I’m writing this piece today. Today, I want to talk about how much shame women heap on other women. We all know that our reaction to things/topics/people primarily stems from what we’ve experienced in our lives. In that case, if you’ve ever been on the receiving end of infidelity, you’re more likely to throw some shame shade at me. I get that. What I wasn’t prepared to realize were these things:
All of this is to say that I think we older generations need to do better. We’ve been conditioned for generations to compete against one another, and it shows. Our subconscious programming drives us to shame and villainize women more than men when it comes to infidelity. When it comes to many things, actually. (Insert America Ferrera’s epic monologue from the Barbie movie.) So, please know this: if you share vulnerable things with me, know that I’m a safe space. I will be the first to thank you for vulnerably sharing your story and I’ll lead with compassion. Our stories are not one dimensional—they are complicated and layered. Just like we are. ----- About Kiersten Hathcock Kiersten Hathcock left a marketing career with A&E and The History Channel in 2003 to spend more time with her kids and wound up building an internationally known furniture company called Mod Mom Furniuture out of her 400 square foot garage. After four years of crafting and selling over 300 kids’ furniture items, Kiersten braved ABC’s Shark Tank and won an investment deal. Kiersten's designs have been featured in TV shows, People Magazine, New York Times, LA Times, and international design books. Her award-winning furniture line has been sought after by celebrities, interior designers, and retailers around the globe for over 17 years. Today, Kiersten is an author of LITTLE VOICES, professional speaker, mentor, and the Chief Marketing Officer for Moonshot, a 23-year-old nonprofit that helps entrepreneurs across Arizona and beyond. kierstenhathcock.com
0 Comments
My husband Scott published this article on Linkedin today. I had tears in my eyes reading it. I'm so grateful for his view, his vulnerability, and his humanity. -------- BY SCOTT HATHCOCK I know when my wife Kiersten Hathcock wrote her memoir Little Voices she knew she would be somewhat vilified; she knew she would have her critics. She also knew she would be helping someone. And, if she won’t say it, I will: she has helped hundreds of ‘someones’ and they have been kind enough to write to her. There are certainly thousands more whom she’s helped that don’t write to her. Those who tend to reach out thank her for her vulnerability and that they truly relate to so many parts of her story. Some readers even say her book changed their lives. Then there are those readers who simply attach themselves to the storyline of her having an affair and they shame her for it. To those critics, I want to say, “Did you even read the whole book?” This is the part I want to address because I was there and did play a major role in this part of the story. So, let me start by saying relationships are hard. Not to mention what life throws at you is hard. It’s truly amazing that any of us exist and go about our day singing a happy tune. But, the truth is in order to survive as humans we tend to compartmentalize and focus on what makes us more comfortable. We tend to see things with a right or wrong lens—keeps it simple, right? Sadly, the whole truth is not that easy to understand as it requires us to abandon our own personal experiences as a frame of reference and see it from another’s perspective. That is WAY harder to do, because it tests our version of our own reality, and I’m not even talking about ghosts. As it relates to our relationship, A LOT of life preceded our separation. In her memoir, Kiersten speaks her truth and journey, scars and all, but she’s not telling my whole story because it is her memoir. However, she did include a blog that I wrote which shed some light on a part of my journey. In that blog, I state a myriad of reasons as to why my record wasn’t exactly perfect. In just a few words, I’ll sum it up-- I was a selfish kid (period). I needed to grow up and it wasn’t until she left that I had to learn how to really take care of myself and our kids. This included paying my own bills, making sure we had enough money, making dinner, helping with homework, juggling schedules and rides to and from school activities, taking care of sick kids, taking care of myself when I was sick, communicating with my parents and the list goes on and on. While this list may seem benign to most, consider that digging in and doing the work wasn’t really a daily thought of mine unless Kiersten asked for my help. Can you say “codependent?” When I think back on those 15 or so years, I am ashamed of myself for not being present in our family’s lives. Relationships are a two-way street. Now, add to Kiersten’s plate the complexity of dealing with wounded attachment, being a childhood sexual abuse survivor, meeting a narcissistic sociopath who targeted her, and communicating with spirits of kids who desperately wanted her help, and then maybe you begin to see the whole picture, the whole truth. There is no villain. At the end of the day, our love story doesn’t really exist without all the complicated layers—without all of the truths. So, if you walk away from reading “Little Voices” and your only take is, “She’s lucky to have Scott.” I invite you to re-read the book and remove your safety lens so that you may see the whole truth. Kiersten and I are lucky to have each other, for neither’s love story is complete without the other and THAT is the truth. I am so touched by your comments in response to my post about closing up shop at Mod Mom Furniture. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Today, I thought I’d share a little more about what’s to come and the how my intuition played an important role in my decision to move on. But before I do that, I want to share something that’s not talked about all that much in entrepreneurship circles. It’s the fact that most startup founders I know, at some point, simultaneously work a full-time gig during lean times. I was no different. Even from the start—from 2006 to 2016—I built Mod Mom while I was caring of our kiddos full-time. In 2016, after the multimillion-dollar Stanley Furniture deal imploded, I worked full-time for two years at Northern Arizona University in PR and Marketing while I continued to create new opportunities for Mod Mom. In 2018, I was hired as Entrepreneur in Residence by the board of directors at Moonshot, the nonprofit Scott leads as CEO. Together, we expanded our entrepreneurship programming in Arizona, Nevada, and the state of Washington. My job has morphed over the years, sliding into the role of VP of Marketing and now, in 2024, Chief Marketing Officer, but one thing has remained constant: I still consult with entrepreneurs of all ages and speak to audiences across the US and Canada about my startup and Shark Tank journey. It’s an honor and a privilege to pass on what I’ve learned (the good, the bad, and the ugly) about what it takes to build and sustain a line of products. It’s one thing to have an idea for a product or to BE your product (consultants, speakers, etc.); it’s another to design, test, market, produce, and distribute products. My hat is off to all who dare to do so. It’s not for the faint of heart, that’s for sure! So, that’s what I’ve been doing full-time while still pushing to attract and grow opportunities for Mod Mom. In February of this past year, my intuition said I needed to wrap up Mod Mom to open the door for new opportunities that are more in line with what I do as an intuitive medium. Being that I’m originally from the Midwest and it’s not in our collective DNA to quit anything ever, I didn’t jump to do so. Instead, I waited to see how my book and the work I do as a volunteer medium played out before I made any rash decisions. Guess what happened? My intuition got louder: “It’s time…shut down manufacturing by August.” I listened and let the manufacturer know I was severing ties in August, but I didn’t announce it publicly. Out of the blue, in July, I started hearing from the designers and vendors who were also NOT getting paid by my manufacturer. I was gobsmacked because their messages (within one week of each other) put an exclamation point— in real time—that what I was hearing was indeed spot on. I couldn’t give the manufacturer a pass anymore because times were hard, Covid, etc. Enough was enough on all fronts. The minute I made the decision to finally close Mod Mom, new doors started opening. I inked a deal with a production company in Canada who is excited to partner with a distributor for a docuseries about my life as a volunteer medium who helps families and law enforcement. The docuseries concept has been very well received by several networks/distributors. More on this to come in the next few months! Another door that opened was an opportunity to sign with a major production company in LA. Without my knowledge or urging, a senior producer/manager read my memoir Little Voices and immediately reached out to my film/tv agency asking about rights to the book to turn it into a limited drama series or feature film. I’m excited to share that the Little Voices film concept is currently being read by an incredible list of producing and studio partners (many of whom you’d know by name). This project would give me the opportunity to help shape the screenplay (as a writer and producing partner). I’m beyond excited to see where this goes because I’ve heard for many years (from the kids in spirit) that Little Voices will indeed be turned into a film/dramatic series. They’ve also encouraged me to write a few more books, which I’ll do over the next few years. I’d love to share what I’ve learned about life and life after death from the kids in spirit like Jason, Nate, Carrie, and many others. Without my Mod Mom journey, I doubt I would have had the opportunity to land a literary agent, let alone a traditional book deal and burgeoning tv and film deals. And without taking the following risks…
…I wouldn’t have the opportunities I do today. Today, my weeks involve spending time with family and friends, working full-time with a team I love at Moonshot, speaking to groups of young and not-so-young entrepreneurs, helping families whose children are highly intuitive learn to manage their gifts, working with Mark and the NILJ team to help families whose loved ones are missing or murdered, responding to messages from Little Voices readers (thanks for reaching out to me!) and speaking to book clubs, and passing spirit messages when I feel the nudge from souls on the other side. I hope that reading about my journey—both the past and present— helps you remember that every time you step outside of your comfort zone to trust your gut (no matter what others think), you’re taking another step along the path to your best life. It doesn’t mean the path will be free from hardship, that’s for sure. But taking those steps—believing in your own power and intuition— is what creates magic in your life. I think Martin Luther King Jr said it best when he said, “You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step." No matter where you are in your life, I hope you’ll take the first step. Happy New Year! If someone had told me 17 years ago that I would leave a TV marketing career to become a self-taught carpenter and founder of a kids’ furniture company, I would have said they were crazy.
Truth be told, it was kind of crazy to think I could compete with multimillion-dollar brands founded by folks with big money and fancy design degrees from Parsons School of Design. (SIDE NOTE: I don’t have a BA in Design but I did go to the ‘Barry Parsons’ School of Design in Ohio (wink, wink). And I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Watching my dad take old high school bleacher boards, plane them down, and build furniture out them taught me more about design, hard work, and perseverance than a four-year design degree ever could.) Today, on December 31, 2023, I’m honored that you’re reading my goodbye letter to my company/crazy idea that helped make me who I am today. All the exhilarating highs (like Shark Tank and NOT accidentally cutting my fingers off) and the heart-wrenching, embarrassing lows (too many to list) now slot together in my mind like mortise and tenon joints. Without one, I wouldn’t have the other; however, I sure do wish I’d done a few things differently. The path isn’t always clear, is it?! What was clear from the start is that the calm, quiet voice (aka, intuition) that encouraged me to climb into my minivan and drive down to the lumberyard was and will always be a gift. It changed my life. While I never reached millionaire status with Mod Mom (despite what the internet says) and I’ve had pride-swallowing conversations with my incredible investors telling them, “I’m sorry I couldn’t do what I set out to do with Mod Mom,” I’m most proud of the fact that I tried. I kept on keeping on, as they say. I kept the faith, even when the dream job known as the Frank Lloyd Wright design deal fell apart at the beginning of Covid (top tip: don’t launch a new product at the beginning of a pandemic.) I kept going… Even when the one female shark I thought would have my back on Shark Tank point blank said on national TV that the two male Sharks offering deals were doing so in part because, in her words… “you’re pretty…it’s an advantage, play it up.” Even when multimillion-dollar licensing deals (plural) fell apart. Even when my manufacturer stopped paying my royalty checks more than two years ago. Even when I started getting calls from other designers and vendors telling me that my manufacturer was using my name and brand to get new clients, only to cheat them out of tens of thousands of dollars. Well, in that last case, I kept on but in a different direction. I was grateful to be able to connect her with the only manufacturer I’ve ever fully trusted: Ray Yoder and team at L&J Woodworking in Dundee, Ohio. I love full-circle happy endings. (Check out these adorable mud kitchens from Monarch Studio.) With all that said, the hard stuff will always pale in comparison to good that came from my startup journey and the invaluable life lessons I learned along the way. I am forever grateful for the beautiful families (my own family included) who bought and/or supported my line of products, the investors who believed in me, the bloggers, journalists, artists, interior designers, industry colleagues, distributors, and producers all over the world who have supported Mod Mom Furniture over the years. You helped me believe in myself, even when the odds were stacked against me. I never dreamt I would be an entrepreneur, let alone a thirty-something mom in a garage without a design degree or carpentry experience who somehow caught lightning in a bottle in the early aughts. During the first three years of Mod Mom, I built and sold close to 400 toy boxes and play tables, fielded inquiries from retailers from 17 different countries, and sold my garage-made furniture to celebs Camila Alves and Matthew McConaughey, Christina Applegate and Martyn LeNoble, and Rachel Zoe and Rodger Berman. This was all before I stepped onto the Shark Tank sound stage. I have so many great memories from those days. I realize that when most companies close shop, they go quietly into the night. And that’s a wonderful way to bow out. I considered that; truth be told. But I also know that I’m not exactly someone who doesn’t talk about the ups and downs of life. So, here I am talking about the sometimes painful, many times wonderful, life-changing rollercoaster of entrepreneurship and the end of an incredible 17-year journey. Last night, I spent some time looking back on photos from my years in the garage, and I am most proud that my girls saw me covered in sawdust, creating something from scratch. In those moments, they learned that they could be anything they want to be, regardless of what others think or say. They just need to muster the courage to try. Even if it means you risk falling flat on your face. Even if it means you’re in tears during hard moments. Even if it means it’s time to let go of what was to open the door for what’s to come. It’s that time, now. I’d like to say I’m ready for what’s to come, but the truth is, I don’t know that I am. All I know is that I’ll muster the courage to try, whatever it is. Here’s to endings, new beginnings, and the next crazy idea…. *Trigger Warning for survivors of domestic violence.* Alice, Darling When I first saw the preview for the movie Alice, Darling, I knew I had to watch it. The pull was not in a “can’t wait to see it” kind of way (Top Gun 3, anyone?), but rather a “tiptoe down a hallway to a scary dark closet” kind of way. Most of the skeletons from my three-year relationship from hell were cleaned out years ago, but I knew this film would uncover the last skeleton hidden deep in the back corner. The one I really didn’t want to talk about. On the flight back from Ohio, I knew it was the right time to immerse myself in Alice’s world. The film powerfully depicts the realities of living in an emotionally abusive, controlling relationship. Until I fell into my ex’s trap, I didn’t understood how and why victims didn’t just leave. And I certainly didn’t understand how soul sucking psychological abuse is—both physically and emotionally. Now, back to the closet. Remember that skeleton I mentioned earlier? Like the main character Alice, not only was my hair falling out during the darkness that was my world from 2014-2017, but I, too, started pulling my hair out. I’d always twisted my hair like many bite their fingernails, but this was different. Dealing with the daily rollercoaster of abuse increased my anxiety to record levels. I’ve never really talked about that openly before. To be honest, I didn’t even know that hair pulling was a thing. I thought I was just mindlessly twisting my hair. Until I wasn’t twisting it…I was unconsciously pulling it out in times of stress. If you’ve been in an abusive relationship, you know that “times of stress” pretty much means 100 percent of the time. When you’re together, you wonder if he’ll be Jekyll or Hyde, and best guess is never correct. “You’re a thick fucking brick,” he’d say, when I’d done something to tick him off, like dressing up for a work outing only to be told that I never dressed up for him. Read: you’re dressing up for others, so you must be wanting their attention. Even when you’re apart, you’re hyper aware about responding to texts and calls right away, because if you don’t, all hell will break loose. You worry that the random guy connected to you on Facebook will publicly comment on a post making your abusive partner question if you know him. If you like him. If he’s ever flirted with you. If he’s written to you privately. If you’ve ever talked with him. If you’re hiding something. And on, and on, and on. You can’t go on trips to see friends without your phone blowing up a million times a day. Don’t even get me started on birthdays, holidays, and important days. I did my best to stay three steps ahead. I had a checklist of sorts for when we were together.
I spent many a night trying to catch my breath, not understanding why my body was restricting my lung capacity. Alice experienced panic attacks, too. It wasn’t until I finally left that I realized the air was slowly being sucked out of my life. There was no freedom or ease. I was suffocating in ways I never thought possible. At the end of the movie, I watched Alice grapple with the shame of it all. The shame that comes with going down the rabbit hole of an abusive relationship and not being able to leave. “Where do I put the shame?” Alice asks. Her friends suggest she give it to them. (That line really choked me up.) Shame destroys us from the inside out, keeping us trapped in things that aren’t good for us. Shame keeps us from talking about what we did while we were coping with unimaginable pain. Like unconsciously pulling your hair out. If you’ve survived (or are surviving) a controlling, abusive relationship, forgive yourself for whatever you did during the surviving. You were simply surviving day by day. That alone is worth celebrating. Then give the shame to me. <3 ---- Alice, Darling is available for streaming. Click here for the movie trailer. |
Categories
All
Archives
March 2024
|
All rights reserved. 2022.
|