The "Empath" Mom

Comedy 5min Set:

I have a question. Do you all have that one friend… the one who’s gone full “spiritual gangster”?

Yeah. You know the one. Her entire personality is now sage, tarot cards, and owning a small business that’s definitely a pyramid scheme. It’s always essential oils, isn't it? “This little bottle of lavender and desperation can cure your anxiety, your credit card debt, and your gluten intolerance, hun. Just $85 a bottle. You in?”

My friend, let's call her Serenity—because she changed her name from Brenda last year after a particularly intense yoga retreat—is the queen of this. Her house smells like a forest fire at a day spa. She’s all about sisterhood. “Women supporting women!” That’s her mantra. Which is great, until you need her to help you move a couch. Then suddenly her chakras are out of alignment and she can’t lift anything heavier than a rose quartz yoni egg.

And that’s the thing. This whole empowered, goddess-energy, sister-of-the-moon bullshit… it has an asterisk. It’s a fair-weather philosophy.

Because last week, the universe decided to stop manifesting parking spots for her and start manifesting a 102-degree fever in her five-year-old son, Brayden.

And let me tell you, all that “I am a sovereign being of light and love” shit goes right out the fucking window when your kid sounds like he’s gargling hot gravel.

I get this frantic call. It’s not the calm, ethereal Serenity I know. It’s Brenda. Brenda is back and she is PISSED. “OH MY GOD, Brayden won’t stop crying, he’s on fire, I gave him the ‘Fever-Be-Gone’ essential oil blend and rubbed his feet with amethyst but IT’S NOT WORKING!”

I’m like, “Did you… did you try Children’s Tylenol?”

“That’s WESTERN MEDICINE! It’s full of… chemicals!”

Yeah, honey, that’s kind of the point! The chemical that makes the fire in your child’s brain go out! I finally convince her to go to Urgent Care. And you know who she demanded to see? Dr. Mark Goldberg. Not Dr. Melissa. Not a female nurse practitioner. No. When her kid is possibly dying, suddenly it’s “GET ME THE MOST PATRIARCHAL-LOOKING MAN IN A LAB COAT YOU CAN FIND. I want a man with a clipboard and a god complex, STAT!”

So we’re in the waiting room, which is its own special level of hell. Brayden is miserable, Serenity is vibrating with anxiety, and I’m trying to keep her from Googling “childhood fevers that lead to spontaneous combustion.” And just when I think it can’t get any more insane, in walks another member of their coven… I mean, their sisterhood circle. Her name is Luna. Formerly Susan.

Luna glides in like she’s on a spiritual Roomba. She’s holding this little velvet pouch. She comes over and says in this whisper, “Serenity, I felt your panicked energy across the astral plane. I brought healing stones for Brayden’s aura.”

And I swear to God, I watched my friend Brenda/Serenity snap. The goddess died and a suburban mom from hell was resurrected. She looks at Luna, eyes blazing, and she snatches this little bag of rocks, and she screams, in this crowded waiting room, “KAREN, GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE WITH YOUR MAGIC PEBBLES! ARE THESE SANITIZED? ARE THEY?! MY SON IS DYING AND YOU’RE TRYING TO FIGHT A VIRUS WITH GEOLOGY!”

And in that moment, I had never loved her more. Because you can manifest all the abundance you want. You can align your chakras and bless the moon. But when shit gets real, you don’t need a crystal. You need a prescription. And maybe, just maybe, you realize that the most powerful thing you can have isn’t a vision board… it’s a doctor with a copay you can actually afford. Good luck manifesting that.