Dear Young Seeker

I am writing my letter to the revolution to you and to you specifically because you are that rare creature, the seeker. You do not really feel comfortable in any group, you do not have an identity made up of 7 adjectives that box you into a group with both the privileges of “Belonging” and the mental suffocation that comes from belonging to a such a “‘group”.

Hey Gaybies,

How are you? No, it’s OK — I know how you are. Things aren’t great. I’m not feeling great either. But, you know, it’s OK — we’re all freaked out. And it just means our eyes and ears and all of our head holes are taking in information accurately, and our poor little aching hearts are processing that information appropriately. And all the resulting fear or despair or fury or crippling anxiety — that is all fully warranted. So at least we aren’t all depressed for no reason! We’ve got really good reasons! We are united in sadness and terror. And we have been before.

Dear Darlings All,

The night of the election, I watched the results roll in from one state after another, turning a red that seemed bloodthirstier with each passing result.

I said aloud, “The course of my life changes tonight.”

Dear women who felt like I did on November 9,

If comedy is tragedy plus time, 2016 felt like the year time collapsed and those two tropes became indistinguishable.  

Dear Fellow Revolutionaries,

I write to you as a dusty-kneed soldier of the great unfolding rebellion that is America.

I write from the heart, in a pivotal moment in which each of us must decide whether to lead with love or fear. I urge you to remember: Only love is real.