Samantha Irby cannot be defined. She cannot be summed up in a few sentences. She’s a gifted writer of wit and honesty. She’s a blogger. A New York Times bestselling author. An essayist. Novelist. TV writer. Humorist. The loveliest. Samantha Irby is a modern-day icon. She will laugh hysterically at that, but it’s the truth. Through her ridiculously popular blog Bitches Gotta Eat, she developed a large and loving fan base. She penned two of the best books of this decade (yeah I said it yeah it’s also the truth): Meaty and We Are Never Meeting in Real Life She is a genius essayist. A geniusist? The way she writes is unafraid yet vulnerable, consistently laugh-out-loud lines yet deeply heartfelt. She has literally helped me deal with some of my own issues without even knowing it. That’s what she does. Samantha Irby brings light and happiness to our lives, even if she’s just talking about shit, again, literally.

“You’ll feel all the feelings” might sound tired, but this interview is wide awake with emotions. The feelings are real. The feels are funny. I approached Samantha about doing a very open, somewhat unedited, raw interview. Where I would share some of the things I battle with, and she would do the same. The end result is something profoundly considerate and severely funny. We discuss Abbi Jacobson, Shrill, mental illness, insecurities, and writing, and we swim in the deep end. But mostly, it’s just Sam being herself: open, super funny, thoughtful, amazing. 

Serial Optimist: Hi Samantha! Everyone I know has a real, serious love for you. You appeal to me, and I’m a mid-thirties white guy with anxiety, living in Colorado and hiking in the mountains to stay sane. I also consider myself a feminist. Maybe that’s basic? I don’t know anymore. Do you care who you appeal to? Are you specifically ever “speaking” to anyone, or just focusing on speaking your truth?

Samantha Irby: I think when I first started writing regularly it was strictly with the goals of making my friends laugh and convincing prospective boyfriends/girlfriends that I would be a funny and smart person to have sex with. I would sit down with someone in mind, bang out a piece, then wait for someone to text me that they’d read it and it had made them laugh. Then as it started to catch fire I didn’t really have any idea who my target audience had become, because all kinds of people would write me emails or tweet me or comment on my Facebook.

I don’t know that I understand why my writing speaks to such a diverse cross-section of people other than the fact that it’s amusing and maybe some people come through because everyone glances out the window when passing a car crash (I am human wreckage) but I couldn’t give a definitive answer. I’m relatable, I’m not shy about what a mess my body is, I’m funny: these are all universal things, I guess? I’m never speaking to one person or group, but I do hope that my work speaks to women and makes them laugh or cry or articulates a feeling they haven’t yet been able to express. I don’t know that I “care,” I’m mostly just grateful that people have taken the time to read something I’ve written, but it is always my intention to have brought the reader a little happiness.

SO: Intent is consistently accomplished. Many of my friends are gay or bi. I had been a fan of your writing, but it wasn’t until about five years ago that they really turned me on to you. Serious fans. Knowing I was going to interview you, I reached out to a few of them to see what questions they might want to be answered. One response came my way that really stood out:

“I’ve always wondered about her “coming out” story or if she had some definition/label of her sexuality. From the perspective of an avid blog reader, she was dating all the dudes and had hilarious stories about them, but was also making jokes about being a lesbian. Then she didn’t date at all, then was suddenly marrying a woman. There was never any background to that evolution and as a queer woman with a similar “coming out” situation, I’ve always wanted more details.”

Samantha: I’m not sure that I’ve ever explicitly talked about my sexuality. Honestly, it’s always been kind of fluid and 100% based on being interested in people who have expressed an interest in me. I had girlfriends as far back as 1998, so I’m not new to romantic relationships with women, but here’s the thing: men are fucking horrible. And in my experience women have not been. For me, it’s just easier and more interesting to write something funny when processing the absolute worst shit, like practically anything a man has ever said to me in a romantic context, plus no one wants to read, “Well Tracy and I decided that living on two different train lines was a lot of hassle so we amicably divided the cats and she’s still my accountant oh and also I’m going to her Thanksgiving brunch next weekend.”

As far as a coming-out or an evolution? I think my experience was a unique one in that I just didn’t have any parents or authority figures who demanded I explain my life and my choices to them, which is a kind of priceless freedom even though I know that saying that makes it sound like I’m glad my parents died. Which, I don’t know, sometimes I am. Anyway, there was never anyone to come out to, you know? I just do what the fuck I want and never have to worry about what anyone else thinks about it because at the end of the day, it’s always just me. I have always processed my shit publicly, at least most of it, and maybe this sounds too simplistic but there just wasn’t anything to dissect or explain.

I mean my relationship itself was almost as seamless as that: we talked for a while, we dated and became close, and we got married. I think after a certain point in my life there was this emotional drop-off when it came to romantic expectation, a point when I was just like, “I don’t care about dating or marriage or any of that garbage. I have embarrassed myself on this planet for far too long as it is.” It was right after a particularly brutal dumping. Then I made a conscious decision to just stop having sex, to stop looking for romantic love, to stop seeking out a connection. I did that for two years, lived an unencumbered happy life without having to think about what anyone else thought of me and whether or not I was living up to someone else’s expectations.

And then I met my wife and it was just like “okay this is fine.” No fireworks, no parade, no overblown disclosure, I just eased into it and tried not to put any pressure on myself or her, and then when it seemed like it was gonna be a ~thing~ I wrote a post on my blog about a horrible trip we took to New York and I called it “lesbnb” and just kept it moving. I’ve always treated people who read my shit like my friends, not really like an audience, and I never would sit my friend down and have a super solemn “this is your new step mommy” kind of conversation and I didn’t want to talk down to them. This is my partner, she loves making her own pickles, let’s make fun of this dumb shit I just saw on TV, the end.

SO: Such a great answer and it makes total sense. I think many of us as fans do feel like your friend sometimes, which is silly, but it’s because your approach is genuine. Thank you for treating us as such.

The year I lived in NYC was the worst year of my life. I was overweight, over-medicating, way out of my element, and just a mess. I moved there to work for The Huffington Post and was still trying to do Serial Optimist, and really just broken. I hated myself for how I looked, and my body became a big part of my depression. I hate that image can mean that much. My appearance would keep me from doing anything at all, at times. 

What are your thoughts on image and how we, or people who deal with any kind of mental illness, or just have toxic insecurities, cope? 

Samantha: Honestly I don’t know. I have never had a small body. Or a fit body. Or a healthy body. And I’m not at all saying that the fit or the small has anything to do with the health, it’s just the reality of my specific body. I was thinking the other day about when I was a kid and I would get dressed in the thing I liked the most, rather than the thing that looked best on my body. Pink corduroys and loud rainbow stripes and lemon yellow dresses and tank tops and ill-fitting shorts and basically things that I would never dream of wearing right now, in my current mental and physical states. And it felt bad, thinking about the joy and abandon with which my nine-year-old self would select things from my meager assortment of clothing. Meager both because of poverty and the size of my thighs.

You know how people look back at their elementary school picture day pictures and groan at their missing teeth or their overly-crimped hair? I always look at mine and think about how I wouldn’t wear a cap sleeve today if my very life depended on it, or wonder when and why I decided to stop wearing jewel tones. I think part of the superficial “problem” of my body if you want to call it that, is genetic, and the rest is some combination of circumstantial and self-inflicted. I’d wrecked my body before I even knew what that meant, but my childhood was horrifying and I didn’t know better slash couldn’t do better so what the fuck choice did I have, you know?

If I’m in a terrifying foster situation and my only solace is in a box of nutty buddies because therapy’s not an option and there aren’t many things that can be fixed by ~playing outside~ then eating every single one until the box is done is my only solution and sure I would cry while hiding the trash at the bottom of my backpack but in its own way that was healing, too? So I look at myself sometimes, grudgingly, in pictures or when caught off guard by a mirror I wasn’t prepared to avert my eyes from, and I hate myself for having weaknesses but also WHAT THE FUCK WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO. I understand that my mental illness and my physical appearance are linked and maybe I should try harder to do something about them but that shit is overwhelming, so maybe the next best thing I can do is try to make peace with my face. I have no advice about how to feel better because I haven’t yet found the formula that works, and you gotta put the oxygen mask on yourself before you try to help anybody else.

Oh mannnnnn “toxic insecurities” is one of the best things I’ve heard in a while! I wish I knew how to get over them, I really do. I’m supposed to be writing a book right now but every time I start a new essay I’m like WOW THIS TRASH and then I slam my computer shut and go to sleep ie watch makeup tutorial videos until I pass out drooling on my keyboard. I am a successful writer! I’ve written books before! But that nagging voice never goes away, that unrelenting inner critic who points out how many people have written essay collections that are better and funnier and smarter than mine and why am I even trying again?

I suppose the thing that saves me is a combination of 1 the people in my life who regularly check in and remind me that I am doing a vital thing that deserves to be seen in the world and 2 contracts I have signed that I am in danger of breaching for money that I’ve already spent and can’t payback. And the good parts of my brain are the consolation prize for my mess of a body, the one thing I feel okay about with the most frequency, and putting it to use makes me feel good and serves as the motivation to continue.

One thing I will suggest, especially when confronted with the sheer terror of dealing with your fat body, is Instagram. And I know it seems counterintuitive when you’re feeling low to endlessly scroll through curated images of people’s beautiful lives, but I follow a lot of gorgeous fat people and I spend a lot of time looking at their photos and appreciating their fashion and their self-love and I think about the things I say and/or think to myself and I know that I would never say that to any of these people, or anyone I encountered on the street, so why do I continue to say that awful shit to myself? and that stems the tide, at least for a little bit.

SO: Fucking great insight. Looking at it like that makes me realize how often I appreciate people’s strengths but rarely my own. Gotta change that inner dialog.

I’ve been engaged since November 2016. We aren’t in any rush to get married. I’ve been calling her my “partner” instead of my fiancé because that’s what she is, but it confuses people. They will literally say, “Wait, so who is your partner, and who is your fiancé?” Smh. Can’t we all just agree our significant others should be called partners? Am I acting too like, the white boy woke here?

Samantha: My knee-jerk reaction is to say GODDAMN CAN’T GAY PEOPLE HAVE ANYTHING but I don’t know maybe gay people don’t give a shit and I’m too easily irritated. I mostly don’t care because I don’t give a shit what anyone does ever but here’s the thing though: if you say partner I’m probably going to assume you mean a man, and I’m going to carry on dealing with you thinking you are gay, and that’s fine and lovely and whatever. Unless it’s a problem for you, and you eventually have to correct me, and then I’m thinking about you and your partner and your relationship way more than I ever want to think about anything that’s not what I’m going to have for dinner. I’m projecting but it just feels so precious, and the last thing I want to do is grouchily try to figure out why you’ve chosen the word partner for a woman you aren’t in business with. Listen call her whatever you want it truly doesn’t matter to me but please don’t act hurt when people roll their eyes when you launch into your wokesplanation for why you prefer that word. Hi, I’m old and grumpy!

SO: You’re so right! I don’t care if anyone thinks I’m gay but also, what am I achieving in this? Guess what partner, nothing!

All of the social activism that is happening can seem trendy at times, which really really worries me. For example, “If I post this it will get a bunch of likes, but I’m not actually doing anything to help raise awareness on a local level” and that’s NOT what this is about. These issues are far past due and here to stay. Long question short, do you get involved? Who has helped shaped your core philosophy? What are your thoughts on movements and trends? 

Samantha: I don’t think of myself as an activist mostly because in my mind that requires a lot more drive than I will ever have and more education than I am willing to pursue. If pressed I will concede that my work is political because it’s about unapologetic female expression but I really do think the leaders need to be the ones who study and after my junior year of high school I definitely tapped out.

I listen to podcasts and read op-eds and watch Brian Williams and try to do my part as a citizen to keep myself reasonably informed but literally who am I to talk about this shit like I know what it is? I grew up in a progressive community but I also grew up extremely poor with a sick mother who needed government aid, and that has informed my beliefs more than probably anything else. When people need help they should get it, full stop. Like what is the point of living in a society if you can’t get your teeth fixed or allergy medicine because your minimum wage job doesn’t offer benefits? My mom worked her entire life and died in debt but at least the system she paid into got her a nursing home that didn’t have rats and arranged decent hospice care when the time came. It’s wild that life here is like this, but it is, and having lived through it and miraculously come out on the other side my thoughts are “you’re gonna take this tax money anyway, you may as well use it to feed, and house some people.” You gotta have a real callousness to grow up struggling and to harden your heart toward people like you if you’re lucky enough to get out of it. I will never not be poor, in my mind. I would go work at Target or the movie theater or whoever would hire me if I needed to, and I understand that this writing is cute but I am one failed book project away from working at the mall and I’m cool with that.

I have zero thoughts on movements and trends, mostly because I’m not a bandwagon kind of guy and, I will keep beating this drum, I look to other people to cut through the bullshit and point me in the right direction. I will read whatever articles cross my feed and follow the lead of people I love and respect who are more learned about politics and governance than I am, but I’m not out here to lead any charge.

One of my best friends on this planet is Anna Galland, the director of moveon.org, whom I met and instantly befriended when we were in the sixth grade. I mostly just ask her who to vote for and donate to whomever she tells me to, in addition to supporting whatever causes my other friends are passionate about. Everything ain’t for everybody, and political activism (other than trying to thrive and survive as a black woman in America) just isn’t my ministry.

SO: That’s wild about you and Anna, so rad. I think at this point all I care about are people voting. I don’t know how to be an activist, but I know ALL OF YOU BETTER FUCKING VOTE!

You and I both know Abbi Jacobson. You are friends with her, I more “e” know her? Not sure if she knows this, but Serial Optimist was the first publication/blog to ever feature her and Ilana for Broad City. Abbi was always so nice and would refer other up-and-coming or aspiring creatives to go to SO to get their web series featured or whatever. How did you and Abbi meet and develop a friendship? I love the way you both support each other in all ways.

Samantha: Our love story started the way all the best love stories do: Abbi read my book and sent me an email saying she wanted to get together if I was ever in New York and I, an idiot, didn’t respond to her email for something like eight months. She immediately responded, and then I took another six months to get back to her because, again, I’m a dumb asshole. Also, I didn’t realize she was THAT Abbi Jacobson? Plus I don’t just dip into New York on the regular, so I was like “yeah for sure dude next time I’m just popping by NYC because my life is a whirlwind fever dream I’ll totally meet you for an overpriced green juice.” Finally, after many months of the laziest cat and mouse game ever, she was like I AM COMING TO CHICAGO. Which was perfect. It’s basically what I wanted anyway. I hate New York. So she came to Chicago and I took her to Little Goat and we had these amazing pancakes and she asked me if I wanted to work together to turn my book into a television show.

And my initial answer, internally at least, was “absolutely not.” Is there anything more horrifying than creating a fictional version of yourself that you have to watch pretending to do and say things the way you would do and say them? FUCK NO. I’m not so arrogant that I’d automatically assume that my dumb life would be interesting on television, and I also understand the kind of scrutiny that it puts you under and I don’t want any part of that. But I am not foolish enough to look a gift horse in the mouth so I said yes, then calmed my fears by reminding myself that there’s no way they’re going to put an actual fat person on tv so there’s no chance I’d ever be onscreen long enough for anyone to zoom in on my individual chin hairs or gauge the circumference of my swollen ankles.

Abbi is incredibly down to earth and easy to talk to, which doesn’t surprise me, but still I think when you talk to any famous person it’s always best to be wary of making a fool in front of someone demonstrably cool so I still get a little nervous when talking to her. We’ve been working together for a couple of years now and I’ve gotten to watch her process up close and she’s just so good at so many things. It’s been a lot of fun.

SO: Are you in love? What makes you feel love?

Samantha: “In love” is such a weird concept for me. And not in a hipster “I’m too cool for love” kind of way, but in a like “I’ve consumed a lot of traditional idealized romantic fairytale media” kind of way, so when I hear IN LOVE I picture starry eyes and constant giggling and let me tell you I have never ever been in that. My wife and I have a nice thing that is comfortable and feels safe and that’s probably the most important thing to me, the safety and the trust and knowing that someone has my back no matter what. We’re conditioned to think that love needs to be wildly passionate and keep you on your toes and if that’s what you like it’s cool but I spent too many years confusing a stomach full of butterflies for genuine affection and no thank you! It’s much more comforting to know that my wife is going to do what she said she was going to do when she said she was going to do it. I don’t need the excitement of unpredictability.

I feel loved all the time! When people comment on my insta or when the mailman goes out of his way to bring my package early or when the barista remembers my order even though I don’t go to the coffee shop that much. Clearly, for me, love is transactional.

SO: Where are you living now? Describe a typical day in your life. Describe a Tuesday. Then describe a Saturday.

Samantha: I live in Kalamazoo, Michigan, a town that’s equidistant between Chicago and Detroit on I-94. Basically a little over two hours away from Evanston, where I’m from. It’s a cool place to be, although there’s no Thai delivery WTF DUDE. I’m back home after a summer of working on the west coast so my typical Tuesday looks something like this:

-wake up around 8:30a and lie very still for a minimum of twenty minutes in case there’s some sleep left in me

-listen to a podcast in the shower

-lollygag and take forever getting dressed while stressing internally about all of the waking hours I am actively losing

-pretend I’m going to write but procrastinate instead

-watch too many hours of sports talk shows

-finally start writing around four in the afternoon

-dinner break

-stay up until 2 am intermittently writing and scrolling through social media, feeling fulfilled by neither one

Saturday:

TWENTY-FOUR HOUR TELEVISION MARATHON WITH NO BREAKS

SO: What things in life make you smile daily?

Samantha: I like to watch videos of people surprising each other on Youtube. Old episodes of 30 Rock. I also spend an inordinate amount of my home time grinning foolishly at whatever the cats are doing.

SO: Where do you get your inspiration from?

Samantha: Fear! Hatred! Crushing anxiety!!

SO: Is your FX show with Jessi Klein and Abbi Jacobson going forward? Where are you in that process? 

Samantha: I’m in a weird place with the show in that I’m working on it but no longer with FX and no contracts have been signed nor announcements been made yet so I gotta be that asshole that’s like “I’ll talk to you about it when my agent says it’s cool.” I think I can tell you that I’m working on a new pilot. Stay tuned.

SO: What is something you’ve dealt with, or maybe are currently dealing with, that you feel rotten about? Is anything mentally keeping you negative? We all have to help each other stay positive while knowing we are all kind of sad!

Samantha: I have so many problems that now my biggest one is “which problem should I ask him to help me solve?” In general, I think I’m a pretty negative person, mostly toward myself, but I don’t think I could pinpoint one particular thought. The thing I’m dealing with currently, so much that I’ve actually considered going to cognitive behavioral therapy to address it, is twofold: 1 how can I be happy with what I have and 2 is there a way to stop buying things I don’t actually need? I’m not gonna get deep into the childhood stuff again but I have whatever that disease is that afflicts kids who grew up in poverty and now as adults with semi-regular paychecks they can’t stop buying shit they don’t need. It’s terrrrrrrrrible because it’s not like I’m gambling or buying $12,000 handbags, I’m just gonna go broke $68 at a time buying scented candles and open-front cardigans. How does one not walk around every day in a desperate panic that happiness is right there on the Apple website, I just gotta put this new case I don’t need in my cart and have it delivered to my house and then I won’t need anything else, right? Wrong!

Because there’s always another lipstick or face wash or bestselling hardcover that I am thoroughly convinced I need RIGHT THIS MINUTE. And I buy it, of course, because I absolutely need it, and it doesn’t solve a damn thing. I get a momentary satisfaction from getting the thing, immediately followed by a creeping anxiety over where to put it because I didn’t actually need it, followed by “why am I like this?” despair. Help me break this cycle. Convince me that I won’t die without just one more new blush!!

SO: Dying laughing. What I consider financial success is not having overdraft fees every month. So I’m no help because I say buy the fucking blush! You deserve it! $12,000 for anything that doesn’t provide shelter or get you from one place to the other is silly. Unless you’re 2 Chains, then you know what? Makes total sense.

Please tell me everything that is going on professionally for you. TV show? Meaty being re-released? Book tour? New book? What does the next year look like?

Samantha: I moved to LA for the first part of the summer to join the writing staff for Lindy West’s new TV show, an adaptation of her book Shrill. It’s gonna be on Hulu and Aidy Bryant is in it and I’m incredibly intimidated but also dumb enough to think that I did good work and we made an amazing show that everyone is going to love. I just got home from the set in Portland, where I got to watch a bunch of professional actors saying dumb words that I actually wrote in front of a camera that will eventually be seen on borrowed Hulu log-ins across the nation, which was one of the most surreal experiences of my life. And I know that’s a hyperbolic thing to say but 1 it’s fucking true have you ever been on a television set before??? and 2 I don’t really have surreal experiences that often especially since I’ve only done acid a handful of times.

Meaty has been re-released and I did a tour and all this is past tense because I’m a disorganized asshole because I didn’t get these questions back to you in a timely fashion and I genuinely hope you can forgive that. I was on tour for two months, which is gross and grueling yet rewarding in many ways, although if Elon Musk or whoever could make teleportation real I’d be down for that in a heartbeat. TRAVELING IS A NIGHTMARE. I just got home and I have half a book due but I’ve only written one essay and I’m not worried yet but I’m also not not worried?

The beginning is hard because I always feel like I can’t come up with anything worthy of another human’s eyes but if I could just sit down and stop the negative self-talk and get a few essays churned out maybe something good will reveal itself. Other than that I’m still reviewing books for Marie Claire and not writing my blog as much as I could be, but I’m trying to take it easy on myself. I don’t even know. Basically, I’m just scrambling trying to get all the things I promised I’d do for people into their inboxes before they get mad at me. That’s the story of my life, please don’t be mad that I overextended myself because I wanted you to like me and think I’m a nice person. Fingers crossed!

SO: I can’t wait for Shrill that’s amazing! Yes yes! Uncross those fingers and know how much you taking the time to do this means to me and all of your fans, and hopefully to new people who will be new fans. Pump the breaks on that negative talk! Our brains. Right? Jeez. Every day take one moment and realize the rare talent you are, and the beautiful impact you have on so many. Thank you always!  

*Follow Samantha Irby on Twitter @wordscience on IG @bitchesgottaeat, and always check out her blog Bitches Gotta Eat which is just the best. 

Buy her books Meaty and We Are Never Meeting in Real Life. Seriously. Go buy them. So good. 

Also, this is a great watch below!