Poet and writer Maria Beben shares the deeply personal journey behind her debut poetry collection, A Trail of Lost Buttons. From pandemic introspection to the fear of vulnerability, Maria opens up about what it means to tell your story—and why it’s worth it. Her work is stitched together with courage, creativity, and an honest look at what it means to be human.
Can you describe the moment you realized you wanted to publish a collection of your poetry?
The idea had been in my mind on and off once I realized how many poems I had, but I never did anything with it. It wasn’t until the pandemic—when suddenly I had a lot of time on my hands—that I actually started going through them and selecting what to include. Pre-pandemic, it was just a fun idea. Mid-pandemic, it became something I could focus on. It brought more creativity into my life and helped me feel like I was working toward something when everything else in the world felt like it was falling apart.
What was your journey like from writing poetry for yourself to sharing it with the world?
Scary! I think the first person I ever showed a poem to was my college boyfriend. While he thought it was “very nice,” it wasn’t the blown-away reaction my insecure little self needed at the time. (To be fair, those first poems weren’t good.)
Later, I took a poetry class and had to read my work aloud—and I didn’t die. That realization helped me slowly build confidence. I worked my way up to having a poetry Instagram, submitting to anthologies, doing live readings, and eventually publishing a book. Ironically, it’s still harder to share my work with people close to me than with strangers.
How did you come up with the title A Trail of Lost Buttons, and what does it mean to you?
It started with a thrift store jacket I bought during a time of big life questions. It was a beautiful London Fog jacket—only $20—but most of the buttons were loose. One by one, they fell off. I never sewed them back on, but I always retraced my steps to find each one and saved them in a bowl.
Years later, I found that bowl of buttons and realized how symbolic it was. In life, we lose pieces of ourselves. But we also grow. We collect what we’ve lost. We hold onto what matters. And eventually, we have the tools to sew ourselves back together—with whatever thread we choose.
How did your writing process evolve from college to creating this book?
Honestly? It hasn’t changed that much. In college, my poems were mixed in with lecture notes. Now, they sometimes appear in the middle of work notes or grocery lists. Some of my best writing still happens when I’m supposed to be focused on something else.
Sometimes I set aside time to write, and other times the writing hits unexpectedly. I try to jot things down when inspiration strikes—even if it’s just in my phone’s notes app. My writing rituals usually involve coffee, good music, a candle, and one (or both) of my cats.
How did you manage your fear of sharing such personal poetry?
I basically alternated between “I can’t do this” and “screw it, it’s happening.” I was terrified of being seen too deeply—of people reading between the lines and knowing things I hadn’t said out loud. But I eventually realized that not being seen felt worse.
In the words of Elyse Myers, I had to “do it scared.” I knew I would regret not publishing more than I would regret being vulnerable.
What do you hope readers take away from your poetry?
Writing helps me make sense of the world and my place in it. My biggest hope is that my words help others do the same. If even one person feels seen, that’s enough for me.
How has writing and publishing this book affected your mental health?
It’s been one of the best and scariest things I’ve ever done. I was terrified of people reading it. But then they did—and I didn’t die. In fact, I got messages from readers saying how much it meant to them. That was really special.
It led to beautiful conversations, even with people I hadn’t spoken to in a while. It reminded me that this isn’t just about me—it’s about all of us. Our stories are unique, but the feelings they stir up are often universal. Publishing made me braver and pushed me to do more with my writing.
What advice would you give to other women who want to share their personal stories or creative work?
Keep going. Focus on where you are, not where you think you need to be. Don’t get overwhelmed by step ten if you’re still on step one. And remember: not everyone will resonate with your work—and that’s okay. The people who do? They’ll never forget it.
Is there a particular poem in the collection that’s especially meaningful to you?
“Blank Pages in a Notebook.” I wrote it in college for a poetry class. It’s about the artist as a channel—someone who brings ideas, emotions, and stories into the world. It captures how I still feel about writing and reminds me of my favorite writing spots from campus. It’s nostalgic and grounding.
How have you grown as a writer through this process?
I still have a long way to go, but publishing this book was a huge step toward censoring myself less. I feel braver now. Hungrier to write, to share, and to keep connecting through words.
Do you have future projects or themes you’re excited to explore?
Yes! I plan to publish another poetry collection in the future. I’m also working on a psychological thriller that started as a short story but has grown into this wild, unhinged manuscript that I’m obsessed with. I’ve stopped censoring myself for fear of who might read it—and that’s been so freeing.
Eventually, I’d love to explore more mental health themes and maybe even publish a magical realism novel. Stay tuned!
How do you practice self-care while navigating the emotional intensity of writing and publishing?
Nature is my reset button. I love starting the day with a walk. I reward myself often—little treats, like iced lavender lattes, are basically a cornerstone of my mental health.
Therapy has also been a huge support. Being creative can surface a lot of insecurities, and therapy helps me work through those. I’m also learning to monitor my social media use to avoid falling into comparison traps. Most importantly, I lean on my people—my husband, friends, and family. Their support means everything.
Connect with Maria Beben
📘 Poetry Book – A Trail of Lost Buttons:
Available on Etsy
Available on Amazon
🌐 Linktree: linktr.ee/em_beewriting
📸 Instagram: @em_beewriting
📝 Substack: mbeben.substack.com
