Yes, that’s right: Go F*ck Yourself 2016

screen-shot-2016-12-08-at-7-23-40-pmDear 2016,

Go fuck yourself.

Yes, that’s right. Go. Now. Buh-bye.

So, fine, I am a silver linings kinda gal and can usually pull something out of the general shit show that is my life… but.

Honestly? I kinda can’t lately. It’s one thing after another.

Hey there, it’s me, pity party table for ONE. Just ONE. Cause it’s JUST ME dealing with all the shit.

Have I mentioned I have a penchant for drama? A small flair.

I’m not going to drive off a bridge or run away to a remote and unreachable island or finally crawl into the bunker I’ve been digging under the backyard (kidding, mostly) and eschew daylight and wi-fi for the next 4 years.

At least, probably not.

I did however recuse myself from Facebook until the New Year and dammmmmmn that feels good. (K, except, I don’t know when anyone’s birthday is nor will I make it to any events until January cause I won’t be reminded, but it’s AWESOME otherwise.)

But like, what the ACTUAL fuck 2016?

We’ve lost numerous artists, gained a misogynistic, narcissistic, Cheeto faced leader of the free world– oh and I got a divorce, spent time with and broke up with two man-friends rather dramatically each time, and by the way gained a few pounds that no one can explain except maybe my birth control pill or just, you know, age.

Really.

I found out today that a wonderful, talented, creative father of two passed away with no warning at the age of 42. I know other 42 year olds who are self-centered creeps who abuse their bodies on the regular and are going stronger than ever… What the actual.

And what about those babies. Those sweet babies and their daddy.

Disclaimer: I don’t want those 42 year olds to perish. I don’t. Just maybe we could make a small trade for their souls. Kidding. Mostly.

This week alone…

We’ve watched the mistrial of Walter Scott’s murderer (how there’s actually a question in anyone’s mind I don’t know. I pray that there’s something we don’t know. Pray.)

We’ve heard heart-wrenching testimony from witnesses at Mother Emanuel. I have a new and dear friend who lost a sister there… I sent him a text bathing his family in love and light and we’re sharing a meal soon, but just… just.

My heart for their hearts.

So much of this year has been about unfathomable loss.

I want to find the light.

I want to find a body in the dark that matches mine and doesn’t shy away when our reluctant hearts begin to meld.

I want a partner who doesn’t clip my wings but let’s them unfurl.

I want to parent my boys with fierceness and love and wells of patience.

I want my boys to have a male role model worthy of their sweetness and devotion.

I want the world to be a safe place for all. Full stop. No negotiation.

I want to pause before I react.

I want to understand you and the ways I have hurt, belittled or made you feel less than.

I want to know where I can meet you that will feel safe for you.

I want to let the Divine into the spaces that feel cracked. Golden repair for sacred hurts.

I did a lot of great things this year– I traveled, I wrote, I danced, I sang, I loved.

But I lost.

So much.

So.

There’s a new day, a new morning just around the bend.

I feel like a toddler learning to walk. Top heavy and timid. But upright.

Up.

There you go friends, she found it. She found the silver lining.

Onward.

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