Rachel Ruecker can’t decide whether she should capitalize her name. she came of age as a writer during a time when her cool gen-z writer foremothers stopped subscribing to the conventions of capitalization. 

but she couldn’t help but feel like there was a little self-deprecation inherent with every lowercase i in reference to herself. 

maybe i’m overthinking it. 

i have a habit of overdoing everything. overenthusiastic. overzealous. overindulgent. annoying. loud. too much. chaotic. messy. neurotic. a lot. i’ve been called it all. 

overshare is a one-woman show about being a woman and an artist and a romantic in your 20s in the 2020s. post-covid, post-internet, and postmodern, rachel shares every little detail of her life on social media. from her dead dad to dating and sex to public transit journeys to her life as a walking tour guide and stand up comic, she tells it all. 

she can’t help it.

because keeping it in is keeping it secret. because secrets hurt people. because secrets have hurt her.

for the first five years after the unexpected death of my father, i didn’t talk about it. i couldn’t. there was too much shame and secrecy attached to mental illness at the time. the mere utterance of the word suicide would bring a twinkle of pity to the eyes of anyone i told. 

even at thirteen, i already knew i didn’t want anyone’s pity. i wanted agency over my own story. 

and i was a good girl. and good girls didn’t have dads who killed themselves. (spoiler: they did.)