It ain't for the faint.

Life, that is.

Another Black man shot in the back and the RNC suggesting a family vote where the "Man of the House" has the last word.

If you've been sober through this mess, please take a minute to acknowledge your courage and your unbelievable strength. Most people are using alcohol right now to turn off this steady stream of fuckery, so seriously, give yourself a hug and a high-five.

This is not like the time I renewed my driver's license before I got a ticket and expected a parade and bouquet from my husband but instead got a golf clap and a "Welcome to Adultland". No, this is hard and I just needed to say that.

Unpacking last week, I came across this list I'd written on the back of a handmade Mother's Day card from my son. He was in kindergarten, it was 2008, I was almost 40 and pregnant with Chloe.

What I need you to know about this is no matter the delicious taste of freedom I was experiencing at this moment, I went right back to drinking and even weaned my daughter early because I couldn't stop. I could not mitigate early motherhood, it had been no different with my first. I unraveled quickly and I had no other strategy for gluing myself together than with the temporary stickiness that wine provided.

I had no support. I was delusional to believe that the resilient human spirit succeeded alone. When and how did I internalize this message? I can't tell you the precise moment or even a specific person I was modeling. My only explanation for this story is that I was searching for my reflection in a capitalist, hierarchical, patriarchal culture and I could never find it. The only way to digest that lie was to wash it down with alcohol.

What I know now that I didn't know then: there isn't anything we can do well, alone. No thing. You don't even need a village necessarily, you just need one other person. You need someone who can be the glue when you unravel, who can provide a shelter when you're getting pelted, who can be a structure when you are without form. 

I hope you have someone but if hope isn't getting you very far right now, I can be your person for a leg of this marathon. Putting words to your needs, saying them out loud is a huge and courageous first step. Consider this your bouquet.

xoxo