第 4 章
Surrendering the Mommy War
One of the most liberating aspects of Shonda's Year of Yes was finally being honest about motherhood. She had an amazing nanny named Jenny McCarthy (not the TV personality), who once told her, "I'm your nanny too. Because, Shonda, you need a nanny." Rather than feeling insulted, Shonda felt profound relief. She had been battling on the front lines of motherhood, battered and bruised, her once-unshakable confidence shattered daily.
For years, when reporters asked how she balanced work and motherhood, Shonda gave evasive answers about organization and late-night laundry. The truth was simpler: she had help, and she was finally proud to say so. Powerful women often hide their support systems because they've been shamed for not doing it all themselves-a war crime in the Mother Hood that Shonda herself had once perpetrated.
Before having children, Shonda was sanctimonious about mothers who hired help. She once told a friend with dark circles under her eyes that hiring someone to care for her baby was "just lazy." Years later, with her eight-week-old Harper strapped to her chest, wearing formula-stained pajamas while trying to write an overdue script, she finally understood. The shame we put on mothers who need assistance is both rude and sexist. As her friend Caterina pointed out, no man has ever had to apologize for having help with his home and children.
Shonda also came to find the phrase "motherhood is a job" offensive. Jobs can be quit. Motherhood redefines us, destroys and rebuilds us, attaches our hearts to tiny humans and sends them into the world. It's who we are, not what we do. Whether working or staying home, we're all still mothers-neither choice deserves more respect than the other.
At her daughter's new school, when Shonda brought a beautiful store-bought cake but forgot utensils and plates, she wasn't met with judgment but with friendly laughter and help. She realized she was the one who had changed-no longer looking for the enemy, she no longer saw one. Finally, she could surrender and answer those reporter questions honestly: "Jenny McCarthy. To do it all, I have Jenny McCarthy." The Mommy War had ended.
第 5 章
The Magic of Play and Presence
As the Year of Yes progressed, Shonda became busier than ever-flying to New York for events, hosting charity functions, doing interviews. She was everywhere except home. Though she thought she was managing, she began feeling irrelevant in her own house. Then came the turning point: dressed in a Carolina Herrera ball gown with borrowed diamonds, about to leave for an event, her daughter Emerson rushed toward her asking, "Wanna play?" In that frozen moment, Shonda realized her daughter wasn't calling everyone "Honey" anymore-she was changing before her eyes, and Shonda was missing it.
She kicked off her painful high heels, dropped to her knees despite her navy ball gown, and said "YES." They played, joined by her other daughters, reading "Everyone Poops" and dancing to their funky version of "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes." When Emerson put her head against Shonda's chest and solemnly announced, "You are still alive," something fundamentally changed. That night, Shonda made a decision: whenever her children asked "Wanna play?" the answer would always be yes. This became more than a rule-it became law, canon, religion.
This principle extended beyond her children. Shonda discovered she was once a child who played. When blowing bubbles for her daughters, a memory returned: catching fireflies with her sister as her mother tended roses. She used to play and be happy-she smelled like puppies, she was a puppy party. She didn't know why she ever stopped.
So she made changes: no weekend work unless it's an emergency, no emails after 7pm, home by 6pm for dinner. She failed as often as she succeeded, but she recognized this downtime as essential. "Wanna play?" became her shorthand for indulgence: manicures, bookstore browsing, baths with Aretha Franklin blaring, wine and chocolate in fifteen minutes of guiltless silence.
The result? The more she played, the happier she was at work. The happier she was at work, the more relaxed she became. The more relaxed she became, the happier she was at home. It was a virtuous cycle that transformed her life.
第 6 章
Reclaiming Her Body and Health
When Shonda began her Year of Yes, she was obese-not cutely chubby or nicely plus-size, but the biggest she'd ever been. So uncomfortable in her own skin that she'd catch glimpses of herself in mirrors and wonder with genuine confusion, "Who is that?" This wasn't about judgment or appearance-it was about how she FELT. Her knees hurt, her joints ached. She had sleep apnea and high blood pressure. She couldn't touch her toes.
Unlike some women in her family who won the metabolic lottery, fat clung to Shonda's body "like it knows it has found a home." She'd battled weight her entire life before deciding the struggle wasn't worth it, settling at what seemed like a healthy "plus-size" weight. Then she lost control, coinciding with her shutting down and saying no to things. She had excellent excuses: hormone injections for egg freezing, recuperating from eye surgery, and the demands of running multiple successful TV shows.
As her shows grew more popular, Shonda became painfully aware of what was at stake. This wasn't just her shot-it was a shot for an entire community. She was an F.O.D.-a First. Only. Different. With Grey's Anatomy, she proved giving an African-American woman her own show with a diverse cast wasn't a mistake. With Scandal, failure would mean two generations of actresses might wait for another chance to be more than sidekicks. The pressure was immense, and food became her comfort and escape.
The turning point came on an airplane when she couldn't buckle her first-class seat belt. She chose potential death over asking for an extender, then imagined her funeral, her extra-large coffin, the tent they'd need to dress her in. With three children depending on her, she had to face what she'd been doing to herself.
She realized she'd been saying yes to being fat all along. She wasn't failing at being thin-she was successfully being fat. Food created a topcoat, smoothing down ragged bits, filling holes, covering cracks. Underneath, everything was smooth, cold, and numb. She was dead inside and that felt good.
But after the Airplane Seat Belt Incident of 2014, being numb felt creepy, like rotting. The food didn't spackle anymore-it suffocated. She gave herself a choice: say yes to being healthy or yes to being fat. If she chose health, she'd have to buckle down without complaining. If she chose fatness, she'd need to embrace it fully-buy her own seatbelt extender and rock size 24s proudly.
She said yes to losing weight on March 8, 2014. By March 1, 2015, she'd lost almost one hundred pounds. She didn't follow any specific diet or program, nor did she have surgery. She started by seeing her doctor for a complete physical. She promised herself she'd never do exercise she didn't like. Eventually she called trainer Jeanette Jenkins and fell in love with Pilates. She drank sixty-four ounces of water daily. Most importantly, no food was off-limits as long as she ate reasonable portions and only ate exactly what she was craving.
As she lost weight, she stopped seeing her body as just a container for her brain. She felt truly strong. She put her daughter on her back and galloped down the halls-something impossible before. She started caring about clothes. Inside this body, she finally felt okay about being seen.
第 7 章
Learning to Accept Praise and Own Her Power
At an Elle magazine dinner celebrating women in TV, Shonda noticed something striking: every accomplished woman responded to praise with embarrassment-shaking her head, ducking down, or laughing uncomfortably. She chose Door Number Two, ducking her head and covering her face when her accomplishments were mentioned. Later, she blurted out to the editor-in-chief, "Did you notice not a single woman in this room can handle being told she is awesome? What is wrong with us?!"
This observation became her next "yes" challenge-learning to accept compliments gracefully. She decided to say YES to acknowledging her awesomeness with a clear "Thank you" and confident smile-nothing more. This proved incredibly difficult. When someone complimented her show, she deflected with "I'm just so lucky" or "It's everyone who works with me." But why deny her role? It IS her AND them. It's US.
The word "lucky" particularly bothered her-it implied she didn't earn her success through hard work. She wasn't lucky; she was smart, talented, and hardworking. She was a badass. Yet even writing these self-compliments felt uncomfortable, like she was being cocky or immodest. She realized the absurdity-we pay therapists to help us love ourselves, yet women are conditioned to reject compliments.
Her first attempt at taking a compliment was pathetic. In an elevator, a man told her her cerulean blue dress looked nice, and she responded with a forced smile that came out terrifying-like Buffalo Bill from The Silence of the Lambs. The poor man pressed himself into the corner of the elevator as she rambled explanations until he escaped. Later at her gynecologist's office, Dr. Chein complimented her "good uterus," and she simply said "Thank you," smiled, and shut up. This time, she got it right.
As she practiced "thank you, smile, shut up," it got easier. She began to appreciate compliments and realized that rejecting them actually insults the giver. But this was just the beginning-real badassery means owning your accomplishments without apology. For years after Grey's Anatomy became successful, she hid her achievements, saying "I'm just a writer" to make others comfortable. But no one asked her to make herself smaller.
Now she embraced Muhammad Ali's philosophy: "It's not bragging if you can back it up." Her friends noticed the change immediately-she talked more, filled rooms differently, looked happier. She realized that badassery is contagious; what you see in yourself reflects in others.
第 8 章
The Power of No and Difficult Conversations
While Shonda's Year of Yes focused on saying yes to opportunities, she discovered an equally important skill: saying no to protect her boundaries. Her first professional "no" came during Grey's Anatomy casting. Everyone pushed her to cast an actor as Cristina who didn't feel right. Finally, she blurted out "No," shocking everyone into silence. That first "no" marked the moment she truly became captain of what would become an ocean liner called Grey's Anatomy.
While she mastered saying no at work, her personal life was different. Success didn't fix her inability to set boundaries-it magnified it. Outside the office, she remained a helpless baby lamb waiting for slaughter, unable to refuse people who treated her like a bank. When someone she loved asked for an enormous sum of money, her siblings coached her: "No is a complete sentence." Armed with three scripted ways to refuse, she finally stood her ground. The person's angry reaction freed her-she realized the worst had happened, and it wasn't so awful. She hadn't lost a friend; she'd gained a superpower.
Saying no unlocked something greater-the ability to say anything to anyone. She discovered that across the field of difficult conversations lies freedom. When someone says something passive-aggressive, she now calmly asks, "What did you mean by that?" instead of stewing silently. She confronted a friend who constantly mumbled bitter comments under her breath, making her realize her "inner monologue" was actually audible. Instead of fleeing conflict, she wades right in and asks "What's wrong?"
This willingness to have difficult conversations cast a magical spell on her life-she grew more courageous, shed shyness, gained new friends and experiences, laughed more, spoke her mind louder. She realized she'd wasted enormous energy on complaining and feeling sorry for herself. The more she said yes to herself, the less she tolerated people who left her emptier and unhappier than before.
第 9 章
Embracing Your Authentic Self
In the most personal chapter of her journey, Shonda confronts her complicated feelings about marriage. Despite her lifelong love of weddings-the flowers, dresses, vows-and her extensive experience planning them both personally and professionally, she never wanted to get married herself. This contrasts with her absolute certainty about wanting to be a mother and to adopt children.
Growing up, while her sister played elaborate games of domestic life, Shonda was more interested in living in her imagination. Her Cara doll never wore the tiny bridal gown her sister had sewn. Instead, Cara attended college, planned trips to Gstaad, and ran spy organizations. She wasn't interested in reality play; she wanted to make stuff up, tell stories, and live in her imagination-a world where marriage was never part of the picture.
Despite loving relationships and interesting men, marriage never appealed to her. Her parents represent the marriage jackpot-fifty-plus years of intellectual connection, finishing each other's sentences, and being true partners. Yet even with this perfect example before her, she still didn't want marriage. Society's reaction to a woman not wanting marriage feels like grounds for a witch trial-people get nervous when you climb the mountain instead of walking the road.
When she met a great guy-funny, smart, cute-she became enthusiastic about the relationship. But when he started asking "where is this going?" questions, she panicked. Pre-Year of Yes, she convinced herself she wanted marriage. She spun tales about Montana ranch weddings and being imprinted on each other like ducks. She was laying track for a ghost train-a train that would never come.
Writing is her true passion-the hum, the high, the track to be laid. Getting to that creative space requires mentally running five miles past distractions. When someone interrupts, even with kind offers like "I can just hang out here while you write," they reset that five-mile journey. Like Cristina Yang, whom she imbued with her own ambivalence about marriage and passion for work, she has a love for something greater than romance-a creative genius forever floating just out of reach. Why marry the guy when you can have the Chocolate Factory?
In this Year of Yes, saying yes to telling her truth about marriage was the hardest yes. She finally admitted to her partner that she didn't want to get married-not now, maybe not ever. When they broke up, she felt not devastation but overwhelming relief. She danced it out, happier than she'd been in a long time, finally embracing who she truly was instead of who she thought she should be.
Her happy ending isn't the same as anyone else's. We all spend our lives kicking ourselves for not being this way or that way, not having this thing or that thing, trying to follow the same rules. But there is only one rule: there are no rules. Happiness comes from living as you need to, as you want to-from being who you actually are instead of who you're supposed to be.
第 10 章
Dancing in the Sun: The Transformation
Standing on an apple box at an Entertainment Weekly photo shoot, Shonda is transformed. A year ago, this would have seemed preposterous-now it's fun. It's been an uncommon week: becoming the voice of Chicago's Miro sculpture about being different and taking up space with pride; feeling comfortable at a panel discussion; and visiting Oprah's Promised Land for a Super Soul Sunday interview where she not only survived but thrived.
The difference was her-fearless, with no armor, nothing to hide. What had she always been so afraid of? Now at the photoshoot, when the photographer asks if she's ready, she truly is. She dances on her mountain in her sun as if her life depends on it-because it does. Looking at the photos later, she recognizes and loves this new woman she's become.
What began as her sister's simple challenge became lifesaving. She now sees two paths: a difficult climb up the mountain where she can breathe rare air in the sun, or an easy route underground that leads to a self-dug grave. Years of saying no were her quiet withdrawal from life-her own slow suicide. Now she's afraid to say no, knowing how easily she could slide back down. The cost is too high.
This isn't a finish line; she's unfinished. So she's changed the rules-her Year of Yes has gone from twelve months to forever. Saying yes is courage. Saying yes is the sun. Saying yes is life.
That little girl peering through the pantry door sees this beautiful woman in the red dress and approves. Shonda can't wait to discover who she'll be next Thanksgiving-beautiful, happy, worth it, always dancing in the sun. Yes. Yes. Yes.