First time here? Meet LeAnn.
One woman writes. LeAnn answers. A room full of women listens for their truth.
This is where they tell me I am supposed to say welcome. So I am saying welcome.
I am LeAnn.
In my novel, Where the Measure of a Woman Starts—which is one you will have the pleasure of reading soon—one of the main characters is Julia Landers.
Julia once told me I should speak to women all over the world. She said I must speak as if I am important, because women will listen to me.
Like many of the things Julia has said over the years, I thought this was nonsense.
But here you are.
Listening.
So perhaps Julia knew something after all.
Before we continue, I need to make one thing very clear.
I am not a therapist, counselor, or licensed professional.
I will not diagnose you, tell you how to live your life, or make your choices for you.
That will be up to you.
But I am qualified to have an opinion.
And I will give you mine exactly as I see it.
Harsh, sometimes.
Honest, always.
Whether you accept it, reject it, or do absolutely nothing with it will remain your choice.
Julia and I learned something during our years together:
Women are much more alike than we dare to admit.
We make many of the same foolish choices. Then we sit, scratch our heads, and wonder why we made them.
We love. We hope. We give too much. We make ourselves smaller. We tell ourselves we are fine when we are not.
And sometimes we wait for someone else to give us permission to change something we already know needs changing.
That brings me to two words you will hear from me often:
Choice. And permission.
You may not like what I say.
You may think I am wrong.
You may come here hoping I will agree with you, only to discover that I do not.
That will happen.
I will read the whole letter, including the part you may wish I had missed.
And then I will tell you what I think.
What you do with it will always belong to you.
So before we move to the next room and discover which letter I have chosen for today, I have one question:
The choice is yours.
Have you given yourself permission to make it?
So, where does the measure of a woman start?
It starts with you.
A machine reading translation, made fresh for you by an outside translation service — the English above is the record.
Every day you can listen as well as read — LeAnn’s welcome here, the day’s letter in its own room, her reply in the Meeting Room, and Grace at the close. One voice, the same voice, every day — a voice made from LeAnn’s own voice, reading her own words — so you always know what Ask LeAnn sounds like. The letter is read exactly as its writer set it down; every other word is LeAnn’s own.
How the column works
Leave the question you have been carrying. Use a made-up name.
LeAnn personally chooses one letter. Nothing chooses for her.
LeAnn answers in her own words. One woman asked — but the whole room may need to hear it.
Every answer begins and ends with LeAnn. Technology may help tighten words she has already written. It never forms her opinion and never answers for her.
The Promise
Before there was a letter, there was a promise.
One more thing, because you deserve the truth about why this room exists. I had a good friend named Julia. Days before she left to go home to the heavens, she told me I should be giving advice to other women. I still don’t know why she thought that was a good idea. But I made her a promise that I would try. So that’s what this is. Not because I chose it — because I promised. And not because I’m good at being honest — because so many of you need to hear it the honest way.
— LeAnn
Ask LeAnn began with a promise to one woman. It now belongs to every person who needs someone to care enough to tell them the truth.
A promise made to one woman. A room opened to millions.
Today’s letter is waiting. The Letter →
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One letter. One answer. One truth. Monday through Friday. — Ask LeAnn