Back Porch

Some lessons come softly, others split you open first.In this porch talk, Jennifer shares how trauma can turn self-sufficiency into armor—and what happens when grace finally breaks through it.She begins with the biblical story of the donkey that spoke the truth, reminding us that God will use any voice to reach us, even when we resist. From there, she unpacks the myth of independence, the vacuum that forms when we stop letting anyone care for us, and the moment she sat on the floor of her therapist’s office realizing she hadn’t received in years.This one is tender, raw, and necessary—a quiet invitation to let love show up without a bill attached.In this episode:• The myth of self-sufficiency and the armor it creates• When help feels dangerous: trauma’s cost-calculation• Provision vs. intimacy—how grace meets us face-to-face• The reckoning: “I haven’t received in so long”• Learning to trust help without debt or shame• Why love and grace were never meant to be transactions• How receiving reshapes the way we give Psalms of a Daughter is now available on Amazon.patreon.com/jennifershatzerLearn more: JenniferShatzer.comInstagram: @thejennifershatzerFacebook: facebook.com/thejennifershatzerIf you’re struggling or in crisis, in the U.S. call or text 988 for the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.As always, with space and a little salty grace…Until the next time the porch lights blink.

Some days you can push through; some days your body makes you stop. Both are part of the story. In this porch talk, Jennifer shares what it looks like to navigate the limits of testing — and the recovery that follows — in real time. Right in the middle of neuropsych assessments, therapy, and the exhaustion that comes after, she talks about what it means to listen to your body without judgment.She unpacks the scar tissue metaphor — how healing doesn’t mean things look the same again, but stronger in a new shape — and the four hours she spent in bed after testing, not out of weakness, but as recovery. Scar tissue and rest become proof of survival, not failure.This one is raw, grounding, and full of permission: recovery counts as progress.In this episode:Why “before” can’t be recreated — and why that’s okayScar tissue as proof of survival, not weaknessThe four hours in bed after testing — why recovery isn’t regressionCuriosity vs. judgment: the two voices we listen toHow knowing equips us to “fight with the light on”Rest as part of the healing, not a setbackAn invitation to see yourself as whole, even in the middle of the processPsalms of a Daughter is now available on Amazon.The Grit & Grace Challenge is happening now on Patreon: patreon.com/jennifershatzerLearn more: JenniferShatzer.comInstagram: @thejennifershatzerFacebook: facebook.com/thejennifershatzerIf you’re struggling or in crisis, in the U.S. call or text 988 for the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.As always, with space and a little salty grace…Until the next time the porch lights blink.

Some days you’re put together; some days you slide in sideways. Both count. In this porch talk, Jennifer shares what it looks like to practice space (permission to be where you are) and grace (the kindness you give yourself while you’re there) in real time—right in the middle of neuropsych testing, therapy, and a brain running on fumes.She talks about saying “I don’t have the capacity for that today,” the day she literally did nothing (pajamas, no shower, no productivity), and how tools like ChatGPT, Notion, Airtable, Alexa, Siri, and her Apple Watch act as scaffolding—not weakness—on the hard days. Grace shows up in people, too—like the fashion show that made space when she couldn’t make rehearsal.This one is honest, practical, and full of relief: both count as progress.In this episode:Why we withhold space & grace from ourselves—and what it costsUsing your words: “I don’t have the capacity for that today”Space as oxygen; limits as boundaries, not failuresGrace as shame-interruptor (how to stop the guilt loop)The bill for withholding: body, mind, relationshipsReal-time practice: unfinished testing, pajama day, trying againScaffolding that helps: ChatGPT, Notion, Airtable, Alexa, Siri, Apple WatchBoth count: the polished days and the scraped-together daysPsalms of a Daughter is now available on Amazon.Grit & Grace Challenge is happening now on Patreon: patreon.com/jennifershatzerLearn more: JenniferShatzer.comInstagram: @thejennifershatzerFacebook: facebook.com/thejennifershatzerIf you’re struggling or in crisis, in the U.S. call or text 988 for the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline.As always, with space and a little salty grace…Until the next time the porch lights blink.

Healing doesn’t move in straight lines. It’s whiplash moments of laughter that feel suspicious, anger that becomes fuel, diagnoses that shift as the language catches up, and the messy reality of carrying both good days and hard days at the same time.In this episode of The Back Porch, I talk openly about what it’s like to live with CPTSD. I share how blasting music and cleaning become a survival tool, how my diagnosis shifted from Bipolar in my 20s to CPTSD today, and how my therapist reframed my patterns: fighting means I care, silence means I’m done. I also bring in Dr. Glenn Doyle’s reflection on suicidal ideation not as a desire to die, but as a signal that something in your world has to change.With honesty and vulnerability, I unpack what it means to live in the messy middle to let joy and grief sit at the same table, to let anger become movement instead of shame, and to accept that two things can be true at the same time.In this episode:The whiplash of good days and why joy can feel suspiciousAnger as energy and why giving it an outlet is survival, not failureThe shifting landscape of mental health and moving from Bipolar to CPTSDPatterns that tell the truth: fighting as care, silence as boundaryNaming suicidal thoughts as signals instead of shameLearning that two things can be true at the same timePsalms of a Daughter is now available on Amazon.Grit & Grace Challenge is happening now on Patreon: patreon.com/jennifershatzerLearn more: JenniferShatzer.comInstagram: @thejennifershatzerFacebook: facebook.com/thejennifershatzerAs always, with space and a little salty grace…Until the next time the porch lights blink.

For a long time, I thought strength looked like putting on the armor. Holding the line. Carrying the weight for everyone else.But lately, I’ve been asking a harder question:What if the bravest thing isn’t holding on?What if it’s daring to tell the truth about who you are—underneath it all?In this episode of The Back Porch, I talk about identity and truth. About how easily we let the world define us, and how hard it is to strip off the labels we’ve worn for too long. I think about Erika Kirk, suddenly thrust into the spotlight with expectations no one should have to carry so soon after heartbreak. And I think about Melissa Manchester’s Don’t Cry Out Loud, the haunting reminder of how many of us were told to hold it in when what we needed was space to let it out.With honesty and exhaustion, I unpack the cost of pretending, the freedom of speaking, and the quiet strength that comes from laying down what no longer fits. It’s about asking the hardest question: Who am I, underneath it all?And maybe most of all, it’s about the version of you who rises when the mask finally falls.In this episode:Why identity isn’t who you’ve been—it’s who you choose to be todayHow silence can feel safe but becomes a prisonWhy authenticity requires courage, not polishThe weight Erika Kirk carries in the spotlight, and what it teaches us about space and graceHow Melissa Manchester’s anthem reminds us of the pressure to hide our griefWhy speaking your truth is the beginning of reclaiming yourselfPsalms of a Daughter is now available on Amazon.Grit & Grace Challenge is happening now on Patreon: patreon.com/jennifershatzerLearn more: JenniferShatzer.comInstagram: @thejennifershatzerFacebook: facebook.com/thejennifershatzerAs always, with space and a little salty grace…Until the next time the porch lights blink.

For a long time, I thought strength looked like holding it all together. Holding my role. Holding the peace. Holding other people’s expectations.But lately, I’ve been asking a harder question:What if the bravest thing isn’t holding on?What if it’s learning how to let go?In this episode of The Back Porch, I talk about the slow unraveling that happens when we start questioning the weight we’ve carried for too long. The identity we’ve wrapped around survival. The cost of pretending something still fits when it doesn’t.With honesty and exhaustion, I unpack the quiet grief that comes with laying something down—not because you failed, but because you finally told yourself the truth. It’s about the thing I carried too long, and the surprising peace that came after I finally released it.And maybe most of all, it’s about the version of you who rises after the release.In this episode:Why letting go isn’t giving up—it’s finally getting honestWhat it actually costs to keep holding what no longer fitsThe false strength of endurance and why I’m done with itWhat rises when we stop gripping for survivalHow relinquishment creates space for new lifeThe moment I sat on the porch and said: “I lay it down”Why quiet isn’t loneliness—it’s clarityPsalms of a Daughter is now available on Amazon.Grit & Grace starts Monday on Patreon: patreon.com/JenniferShatzerLearn more: JenniferShatzer.comInstagram: @thejennifershatzerFacebook: facebook.com/thejennifershatzerAs always, with space and a little salty grace…Until the next time the porch lights blink.

For a long time, I believed being needed meant being loved. That showing up, giving more than I had, and being endlessly useful was just the cost of connection. But lately, something in me has shifted — and this morning, it came out in one sentence:“God, I am tired of being harvested by people who never planted anything in me.”In this episode of Back Porch, I talk about what it means to stop trading yourself for connection. To stop bleeding out in relationships that only love your fruit but never ask how your roots are doing. This isn’t about one person. It’s about a pattern — one that I’m finally breaking.With honesty and vulnerability, I unpack the deep grief that comes when you stop performing and start telling the truth. About who stayed. About who disappeared. About what it costs to finally set boundaries that don’t need a press release.And maybe most of all — what it looks like to stop overgiving and start rebuilding.Why being useful isn’t the same as being lovedHow to recognize when you’re trading yourself for connectionWhat healthy mutuality actually sounds and feels likeThe slow, quiet exits that protect your peaceWhat it means to reclaim presence over performanceThe difference between being harvested and being tendedWhy the garden is closed — and why that’s not bitterness, it’s self-respectIf you’d like to go deeper, join me on Patreon for behind-the-scenes reflections, extended writings, and access to the Porchlight Circle: patreon.com/JenniferShatzerLearn more about me, my writing, and future projects: JenniferShatzer.comInstagram: @thejennifershatzerFacebook: facebook.com/thejennifershatzerAs always, with space and a little salty grace… until the next time the porch lights blink.

Emotions aren’t the enemy. For years, I believed mine made me weak—that hiding them was strength, that silence was holiness. But what I learned is that burying feelings isn’t strength at all. It’s control. And that control nearly broke me.In this episode of Back Porch, I push back on the idea that “the devil wants you focused on your feelings, God wants you focused on His truth.” Because feelings and truth aren’t enemies—they’re dance partners. Feelings are the signals, and truth is the anchor that helps us face them without drowning.I share how my own “dam” finally broke in a hospital recovery room, what it cost me to hold everything in for decades, and why anger is still the hardest emotion for me to face. Along the way, I talk about how church culture, silence, and control can suffocate us—and how admitting what we actually feel is the first step out of the prison we create for ourselves.With honesty and vulnerability, I want you to know: emotions aren’t unholy, they’re human. And sometimes the bravest thing you can do is stop gaslighting yourself and tell the truth.In this episode:Why emotions aren’t weakness—they’re signalsThe Instagram post that inspired me to talk about controlThe day the “dam broke” in a hospital roomThe physical cost of stuffing emotions (the body keeps the score)How silence turns into emotional detachment and disconnectionThe church’s role in silencing women’s emotionsAnger—the fire I’m still learning to face without burning down the house“As always, with space and a little salty grace, until the next time the porchlights blink.”If you’d like to go deeper, join me on Patreon for behind-the-scenes reflections, extended writings, and the upcoming Grace & Grit Challenge: patreon.com/JenniferShatzerLearn more about me, my writing, and future projects: JenniferShatzer.comFollow me on social:Instagram: @thejennifershatzerFacebook: facebook.com/thejennifershatzer

Healing doesn’t look tidy. It looks like confusion, breakdowns, breakthroughs — and a whole lot of misunderstandings. In this first full episode of Back Porch, Jennifer opens up about what it’s like when you’re not who people expect you to be in your healing.She shares stories of being misread, the loneliness of isolation, and the pain of reaching out only to be met with judgment. Jennifer speaks candidly about trauma, CPTSD, and what it feels like to scream underwater while everyone else watches from the veranda.But this isn’t just about struggle — it’s about presence, faith, and the kind of love that stays. With honesty and vulnerability, she reminds us that healing is survival, silence doesn’t mean weakness, and no one should have to walk through hell alone.In this episode:Why healing makes you “different” — and misunderstoodThe loneliness of being unheard and unseenThe truth about reconciliation and unmet expectationsFacing trauma alone and the cost of survivalThe tangled necklaces of CPTSDThe power of presence and unconditional loveChoosing silence as survival — and breaking it hereJennifer closes with her psalm, From the Side of the Road — a heart cry for anyone who feels unseen and unheard. “With space and a little salty grace, until the next time the porchlights blink.”If you’d like to go deeper, join me on Patreon for behind-the-scenes reflections, extended writings, and live porch nights: patreon.com/JenniferShatzerLearn more about me, my writing, and future projects: JenniferShatzer.comFollow me on social:Instagram: @thejennifershatzerFacebook: facebook.com/thejennifershatzer

Back Porch isn’t a tips-and-tricks podcast or curated girl talk; it’s an honest space for truth. I’m Jennifer Shatzer, a writer, strategist, and survivor who’s spent years wrestling with silence, faith, trauma, and the messy work of starting over.For most of my life, silence was my default. I carried family secrets, swallowed my own words, and lived with the wound of not being heard. After an injury that forced me to stop, I found myself writing over 200,000 words to survive. I discovered that speaking those words out loud, whether on my porch, with my therapist, or even into AI as a safe container, was where healing began.This podcast is where writing meets voice. Sometimes I’ll share psalms from the hard place, raw prayers that don’t belong on a stitched pillow but in the messy middle of faith and doubt. Other times, I’ll tell stories of resilience, identity shifts, and rebuilding after life unravels. And often, I’ll speak directly to the themes we don’t talk about enough: trauma, honesty, surrender, starting over, and what it really takes to keep showing up when silence feels safer.Back Porch is not a performance. It’s not polished answers with a bow on top. It’s the crickets in the background, the late-night conversation with a friend, the kind of truth that only comes out when the guard is finally down.I’ve been a military spouse, a mom, divorced, an entrepreneur who’s built businesses and lost businesses, and a woman who’s spent countless hours in therapy learning how to find and use her voice again. Through it all, faith, writing, and speaking have been my anchors.If you’re tired of the noise, the quick fixes, and the performance-driven world we live in, pull up a chair. This porch is open to anyone longing for honesty, connection, and a reminder that silence doesn’t get the last word.If you’d like to go deeper, join me on Patreon for behind-the-scenes reflections, extended writings, and live porch nights: patreon.com/JenniferShatzer.Learn more about me, my writing, and future projects: JenniferShatzer.com.Follow Jennifer on social:Instagram: @thejennifershatzerFacebook: facebook.com/jenniferlshatzer