By Sarah Hepola
How the Pandemic Turned Brené Brown Into America’s Therapist
But for heaven’s sake, the best-selling author, unapologetic cusser, and fifth-generation Texan would rather not be called that.
The week we lost the world we knew, Brené Brown held church. Wearing a floral blouse and hoop earrings, she settled into her home office, in Houston, in front of a bookcase with spines arranged by color: cerulean blue and daffodil yellow and blush pink. She livestreamed a fifteen-minute service, Brené Brown–style: There was a prayer, yes, but also a Beatles sing-along. There was God talk but also cussing. And there was a sermon about offering grace to anyone you might like to punch in the face.
Originally published on texasmonthly.com June 2020