Here it is. The long-promised Steve and Bridget vlog. I opened my IG stories up for questions like… last February and have finally done it. I’m sorry for the delay!
Now a little bit about this video and the questions we got…
We got a lot of questions that were difficult to answer for a variety of reasons. And the thing is, I’m an open book. If you were sitting across from me at a coffee shop asking me questions about my life, I’d fall in the oversharing category for sure. (And then I’m one of those people who walks away from a conversation second-guessing myself–should I have asked that? Oh God, should I have shared that? Did I offend them??) I assume the best intentions of people and assume they’re doing the same for me. I like to hear stories and share stories, I love to be vulnerable and love when people are vulnerable with me in return. But in this space, it’s a little trickier (I say that word a lot in this vlog!) to do so. So, what was closer to 30 minutes of video had to get edited down, and down to what you see here (still long, logging in at 16+ minutes!). We watched it back and thought, “Oh, how will that come across?” or “Maybe we shouldn’t say that.”
I had a reader introduce herself in Phoenix, Arizona not long ago and she gave me the most meaningful hug. Like the hug of a dear, dear friend. I believe most of you are like this girl. Gracious, kind, wonderful. Watching this vlog with a certain amount of curiosity but also empathy for the strange path we’ve walked together, and that Steve and the kids walked before I joined them. But still, I know we’re a bit guarded in this post, and for that I’m sorry. One day, maybe we’ll meet over coffee. And then, let the oversharing begin!
Thank you both for sharing! Those were really hard questions to answer. You have been nothing but graceful and kind in everything that you post, and I can’t imagine anyone taking anything the wrong way. I appreciate the vulnerability in sharing all of the hard things that Steve and the older kids walked through. I truly cannot imagine what they went through, or what you have gone through stepping into those shoes. You are inspiring.
Wow. I had tears in my eyes as I watched you both speak about Shannon with such love and respect. Enjoyed watching this.
yep…cried through that whole thing…
i LOVED this! so vulnerable and wonderful to get to know more about you both. an’t wait for more, hopefully before next year! 😉
Î’m commenting BEFORE watching … it’s a full moon night on a Sicilian beach … I know Î’ll be sniffling (full tears crying) , so I think it’s best to comment later, like 2 weeks from now , back home , starring at the vineyard in Orvieto and missing you so much . Xox
or is it ‘staring’ ? Probably . Misspelling annoys me so.
Ok, done
it’s now midnight, the full moon is glaring onto the beach …
I cried and laughed and talked back to you , did you hear me all the way to Cape May ? 14 cavities ?
Technology ? The magic of our paths crossing will be with me for the rest of my life.
and me too. wish i could’ve heard your laughter AND cries. love you friend. (and yes, 14.)
I’m only a few seconds in but had to stop to say that Fruit Bats song is one of the all-time favorites in the Nash household. It takes me back to college days, listening to the mixtapes my one-day husband made for me ❤️
it’s such a good one!!
I always feel like you are so generous with your readers/viewers/listeners. Thanks for sharing your life with us!
oh thank you so much, traci. forever glad to have readers like you.
I’m always in awe of how open and honest you both are – and will always feel incapable of fully expressing how much of this here (not just the videos but you sharing parts of your life in that not sugar – coated way) help with navigating through love, life, marriage and (step)parenting. So just, thank you!
That was exquisite. Thank you for sharing your hearts. You inspire. God bless you and your beautiful family!
I’m twelve weeks pregnant and in tears from the beauty! 🙂
–mama to ten
Your vulnerability is breathtaking. Thank you so much for sharing this! We just celebrated 13 years married and marriage has really kicked us in the pants. I love hearing other couples voice the inconvenient truth that marriage is hard and so much work. (PS I love that you left in the part where he tells you there is too much space above your heads. That was bugging me too, Steve! 🙂
This was great! Thank you for being so open. And it’s encouraging to me that you too struggle with the technology aspect of raising kids. Comforting today for me, as I am beating myself up over my son’s screen time and x-box time.
You are wise to be circumspect. There’s too much parental over-sharing going on in our online worlds. Our kids can use computers as well — if not today, then tomorrow. I respect the editing and boundaries you enforced. Your family and your kids come first.
Well, that was so good. It felt so comfortable on this side and in a world that continues to feel increasingly disconnected, thank you. Parenting is so very hard and yet, our greatest gift.
Thank you for this. I am a widow and lost my husband to cancer 17 months ago. We have two boys, 5 and 8. I am dating someone now, who should probably watch this vlog. We talk about Scott very often and Drew embraces it. This is how I knew he was the one :). Thank you again for sharing your story.
Lauren, I am so, so sorry for your loss. Thinking of you as you merge lives–and wishing you all so much grace, patience, and love as you do so!
I’ve always been a fan; but then Steve went and had me sobbing at 14 cavities #superfan. My husband is a dentist; and it’s incredible to see the life experiences that so quietly make their way to the chair. We’ve rejoiced and mourned with so many! This was so poetic and vulnerable and real. My husband just got in a terrible car accident, and I’ve already lost my own dad: the weight you don’t want Parker to carry? I hear you! I see you! Parents should never be allowed to die. We are celebrating 13 years with you this year. Wishing you all the best! XO
oh ally. i am so sorry about that car accident. can’t imagine the scary what-ifs and feelings of total fragility that the accident threw you into. wishing for fast healing for you all, in body, mind, and soul. thanks so much for this comment. and happy 13!
This was just so beautifully shared! I cried and laughed and felt like I was sitting in the room with you both. You are so life giving and radiant in your love for each other and the reality of family and messiness and figuring out how to do this stuff! I only wish I could get you out here to NZ to stay so we could meet you in person. Love to a couple of our favourite bloggers, from your kiwi friends xx
oh you are just the nicest. one day, maybe our paths will cross. in the US or in NZ and i’ll give you a big hug. thanks for being here, and on instagram. i always feel so loved by you!
It’s commendable the amount of authenticity, honesty and vulnerability you share with your readers on all subjects, but in particular in what you and Steve shared here.
Well, I think it is pretty safe to say that I was not ready for this–not in any bad sort of way; it just caught me off guard. Ultimately, it makes me miss you all way too much and wish that we were joining you at the lake next month. Love you guys!
Bridget, I have wanted to watch this for a while, and finally found the quiet moment to do so. I have never commented before but stumbled upon this lovely space years ago – and while my own story looks vastly different than your own, I resonated so much with the deep pain and the deep joy that you and Steve both so evidently and tenderly expressed. My husband and I had to say goodbye to our chubby, curly-haired firstborn daughter five years ago — only a day after her birth. The heartbreak that ensued and continues to this day feels too deep to tangibly express. And yet now as our home has been filled with three more happy, healthy younger siblings, my husband and I talk often about all of the richness that has come because we are so well acquainted with the valley. Isn’t that how life is? Joy and suffering. Such intertwined companions. And as I look at my precious three here, I often ask the Lord to protect them as they learn more and more about their sister’s story…but deep down, I do believe that some of their biggest gifts to the world – things like compassion and a deep awareness of the least, the lost, and the lonely – will be a direct result of their sister’s legacy. And even more so, as they learn more about their parents, they will see that so much of our world has been shaped and formed by our Ava girl. And in that, I just can’t help but say from afar the same about your own children — all because of you, and Steve, and Shannon.
I’ll stop now…but from one young mama to another, I found myself swelling with such admiration at the high, hard, and very much sacred calling you stepped into almost thirteen years ago. What a brave and beautiful thing.
oh Anne. first, you are a beautiful writer. joy and suffering are such intertwined companions, you said it so perfectly. thank you for being here and sharing a little bit of your story with me. I am so, so sorry you lost your Ava far too soon. those words always sound so shallow in the face of such loss, but nevertheless, I am so sorry.
you’re right, having been in the valley has provided you and your family with such gifts. but, that also takes a special person to use that loss the way you did. some would become bitter and angry, but you have done beautiful things in your grief. that is really incredible.
thank you for the kind words at the end. I often feel like I’m tripping more than stepping, figuring this out as I go and not doing the best job of it a lot of the time, but one foot in front of the other day by day is the best we can do, right? blessings to you!
I really think you have managed it quite well–not much tripping that I see!
Love this and so agree about joy and suffering being intertwined companions!