All right, listen. All of you, all of you sending me messages calling me a filthy capitalist and telling me I can’t tell you not to be angry, I am not telling you not to be angry, I am telling you to ensure your rage is Productive.
There is a difference between rage with purpose and rage that you let paralyze you into apathy. The first is the stuff that change and hope is built on, the second is what people want you to fall into so they can get away with shit without ever being challenged, because why challenge what you can’t fight, right?
Do not ever think you cannot fight something, do you hear me? There is always a chance to make something better, whether it’s something big or something small, there will always be options and there will always be people out there willing to fight, not just for themselves but for you too. Because this shit matters, okay? The big and the small. It matters.
But you can’t just rely on others to change the world into a better place for you, you have to be a part of the process too. You don’t get to sit back on your laurels and lament the state of the world with snide cynicism if you are not actively part of the solution. And I know it’s sometimes hard to know where to start, but here’s a helpful suggestion: you can start with not being a snide little gremlin on the internet telling other people that their hope is pointless.
And to the person who told me “not all our lives are sunshine and hallmark moments”, like somehow that justifies their apathy, yea, you’re right. Not all our lives are sunshine and hallmark moments.
I’m a chronically ill disabled immigrant woman who has spent the last two years of her life facing one financial difficulty after another. I’ve had to beg for help to get necessary medical procedures, for house repairs, for food. I am well aware life is not a hallmark moment, thank you.
Positivity does not come naturally to me. I am actually a very broken, depressed, very angry person at my core. It would be so very easy to turn my face away and ignore injustices of the world, both great and small. But that’s a choice I have decided I cannot live with. And YES, kindness is a CHOICE.
Love is a choice, empathy is a choice, hope, is a choice. And it took me the longest time to realize you can use outrage and anger to fuel all of them for the better good.
There is not a single atom of my being that is sunshine and rainbows. What I am however, is 100% exponential rage and exhaustion willing to throw down whenever or wherever my voice and actions will help. A hopeless populace is a docile populace. So even if it burns, my god even if you think you might die under the weight of caring, you take that rage, you take all that anger and pain and fear and you turn into hope and you launch it at those who would keep others down and you burn with it. You burn until you take them with you.
So the night is dark and full of terror? Be a light. However you can. In big ways or small. A thousand tiny gestures of kindness sustained over time will eventually make up a whole. Start somewhere.
But don’t you ever tell people it’s pointless to hope, or to believe in a better world. Don’t you dare take that from them. Do better. For your sake as well as others. You deserve better too.
Hope is not the reserve of the naive, it is the foundation upon which better things are built. So stop trying to tear it down.
I shit you all NOT that the most ridiculous, sounds-like-a-made-up-thing just happened to me at the drive thru at fucking Jack In The Box.
First of all, I never go to Jack In The Box. Jack In The Box has five fucktrillion items on their menu and they’re all terrible. But you know what they have that I can’t find any goddamn where else? Stuffed jalapenos. Unless I want to spend $8.95 at fucking Sonic but I am poor so when I’m feeling especially self deprecating I cart my ass to Jack In The Box and spend $4 and get their scalding hot and not-really-delicious-but-okay stuffed jalapenos.
So I order my jalapenos. And I pull up to the window. And the girl at the window takes my money and then hands me my change and then immediately comes back and she’s like “Hey, don’t take this personally.”
And I’m like, please. I just want my jalapenos. It has been a Not Good day, I want to go home and feel sorry for myself while crying on my $4 jalapenos.
I expect her to ask questions about my tattoos or my piercings, because I get those questions all the time. They usually aren’t prefaced with “Hey, don’t take this personally” though. It’s more like “how much did those cost” or the ever obvious “did that hurt”
But no, that is not her question. Her question is:
“Are you trans?”
1.78 shitmillion thoughts go through my head so fast I get whiplash. I can only remember the first like four because I concussed myself with surprise.
1) what the fuck 2) am I that visibly trans?? What is it?? Is it the beard and the long hair??? 3) but what about my jalapenos 4) it’s the beard isn’t it
I tell her yeah, I am, because what the DIDDLY HELL, it’s 9:00pm on a Wednesday night in the drive thru of Jack In The Box, THIS IS MY LIFE NOW I GUESS
(the whole time this is happening I know the internet is not going to believe me but I swear on every holy artifact on this godforsaken Earth this was a real life interaction that I had in the drive thru OF JACK IN THE BOX)
Then she asks, and I am directly quoting here, “So are you male to female or female to male?”
And the title of my autobiography lit up in lights inside my brain:
How Do I Explain What Nonbinary Is In The Drive Thru At Jack In The Box
She asks me how I went through the process, she tells me her partner is just starting transitioning, and she asks for my number to give to her partner.
THE ENDING IS WHOLESOME, I GUESS, EXCEPT:
She asks for my name after I give her my number and I have to tell her that my