Checking In

Hi. How is everyone doing? Are we ok? 

I have not been ok which has made showing up here really hard. I stopped breastfeeding a week and a half ago and every time I go to write about it I can’t. Instead I end up writing about my rage. The rage I felt when Trump started announcing his cabinet picks. The rage that bubbled up when I saw a meme on Trump Jr.’s instagram account showing photos of Kamala and Hilary alongside Trump’s mugshot with the caption “Trump Arrested for Beating Two Women.” The rage that hit me like three shots of espresso about ten minutes ago when I got a text from a mom in my baby group chat alerting us that a man yelled “Go back to your own country” at her daughter’s nanny in the park this morning. This happened in the very blue city of L.A. Not only that, but the man who yelled was with a child.

I am a mom and I am scared for what the future holds. Because I am a mom, I also know that I have to be brave. And I will be honest, there are many days that I don’t feel like being brave. What I really feel like doing is tearing shit down. I feel like reaching into my chest and pulling out my own heart because the feeling of helplessness is so great, then taking that heart and cradling it, telling it everything is going to be ok. My skin crawls every time I get an update about the incoming administration’s plans and a lot of the time I don’t know how I will make it through the next four years.   

There’s the bigger picture, but there’s also the messy, complicated lives we had before the election results came in. Those problems are still there and you have to get dinner on the table, too. “Overwhelmed” doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface.   

Back to being brave. I am not an expert about what to do going forward, but I will mention a few things that have helped me cope with the present. Connection, for one. I’ve started interviewing moms for the feature series over Google Meet instead of via email and getting to have intimate, heartfelt conversations with other women about motherhood feels like the biggest, warmest hug. Asking myself before I am about to be reactionary over something at home if what I’m reacting to is really worth my precious energy or if that energy would be of better use elsewhere or just simply protected. Making myself a fucking over-the-top colorful salad for lunch; taking care of yourself like this will stimulate the pleasure centers of your brain. I’ve begun watching old movies again and making time to read. And I consciously allow every cell in my body to be present during what I know I will remember as the happiest moments of my life, like watching my husband run around the kitchen playing airplane with my son while he throws his head back in laughter, little teeth like chiclet gum. 

In all of the election follow-up essays I have read, there’s been a consensus about continuing to find the light and the joy in the face of darkness (my favorites are this one and this one), that this will be the fuel for change going forward. Being a good person, showing our kids the value of integrity and respect and love, especially when we don’t feel particularly loving, that is bravery, that is resistance and that is a start. I don’t pretend to be this person every day, I am only human. But, this is the kind of example I strive to be for my son and that has to count for something. 

The holidays are around the corner and with them comes a lot of emotional baggage for many of us. Be gentle with yourselves, be gentle with each other. It’s a lot. I might not be as consistent with this letter as I have been over the next month because of said holidays and I picked up some freelance work. That being said, I have some really wonderful interviews coming up and we’ll be back to business as usual the next time I hit your inbox.

Thinking of you,

C