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CALLIOPE’S COLUMN

November

The Greeks Really Did Know Best

This should come as no surprise, but Calliope isn’t my real name.

Don’t get too excited. I don’t have any intention of stepping out from behind the pseudonym. I prefer the anonymity. It gives me the freedom to say exactly what I want without censoring myself.

However, I want to share the reason why I chose the name Calliope. I thought I was creative, if I’m being honest. Maybe it’s the writer in me, but I wanted to use the name of a Greek goddess, because hello, if you don’t believe yourself worthy of goddess status, what are you doing with your life? And Calliope is the perfect goddess to represent me. Or at least the me I show the world.

Unlike the other goddesses, she wasn’t a virgin. She was divorced. Like me.

Though the true reason I went with the name is because she is the goddess of the arts and the chief muse.

I truly believed that my only partner in life would be writing. That nothing and no one could compare to the words I dream up.

That books would be my first and only love. That I didn’t need a man or a love story of my own.

Oh, how foolish I was.

Because of course a woman who writes about epic loves truly craves one for herself. I was just too scared to admit it.

And then I fell in love with my greatest muse. The man who will likely be the inspiration for many columns going forward. The man who is about to give me the best love story of all as we prepare to become parents.

This column may look a little different going forward. Or maybe it won’t, because who says moms can’t have epic sex lives?