My First Literary Publication

On Being Seen

On April 18, something quiet but enormous happened.

My first literary essay was published.

Not just anywhere—but in

Chicago Story Press Literary Journal

, recently voted the #5 nonfiction literary magazine of 2024 by

Chill Subs

!

The piece is called The Field Between Us, and I almost didn’t write it for public consumption. I kept pushing aside the thought of submitting it to literary magazines because I wasn’t sure I could bear the exposure beyond the bubble of this newsletter sent to a trusted audience.

It felt too close. Too raw.

Because it’s not just an essay—it’s a reckoning. With what love becomes over time. With the roles we perform. With the quiet drift between two people who were once each other's everything.

Putting this piece into the world felt like stepping off a cliff. But reading this from the editor,

Anne Beall

, felt like a soft landing:

My proofreader reviewed your piece and had only a couple of edits that are noted in the attached version. He was very complimentary about your writing. He really liked your description of how your husband handled the future while you handled the present, how he handled the “important things,” while you handled the emotional labor. “Beautiful writing,” is what he said.

I’m glad you are rediscovering this piece of yourself. 😊

There’s something terrifying about revealing the quiet struggles we all experience but rarely discuss openly.

Marriages (and long-term relationships) often have these invisible fault lines that we carefully step around, hoping they won't widen into chasms.

And yet…what has touched me most deeply is how readers have already begun to see themselves in these words. One reader wrote to Anne:

“This piece in particular was wrenching and beautiful. It had a particular resonance for me, as after my divorce I had a time of finding kinship online… it's a wonderful piece about what constitutes a working marriage.”

This is why we write, isn’t it?

To reach across the distance between our experiences and touch someone else who thought they were alone in theirs.

Here’s a small excerpt from the piece—one of the questions that sits at its heart:

“How did we go from being those people—the ones who changed each other’s lives with unfiltered, unguarded words—to these careful, measured strangers who sleep on the edges of a California king bed with our backs toward each other?”

If any part of that question echoes in your own life—or if you’ve ever wondered how love can shift shape while still staying intact—I hope this piece meets you gently.

You can read the full essay here: The Field Between Us –

Chicago Story Press Literary Journal

The Field Between Us: A Story of Intimacy, Distance, and Love by Mansi Bhatia

Since its publication, I’ve found myself resting in a kind of stillness. Not the loud triumph of arrival—but a quiet confidence.

For someone navigating the onerous task of writing a first book, this moment feels like a hand on my back. A reminder to keep going. To trust that the most vulnerable stories are often the ones that carry the deepest resonance.

Thank you for bearing witness. For seeing me. And perhaps, for seeing yourself.

XOXO

Mansi.