Oh, boy. It's been a year.
I
With stories in all the major news outlets – some with reasonable accuracy, others seemingly spun from whole cloth – reporting on what we in my household now refer to as The Incident, as well as lots of support from around the world, a smattering of disappointments from people I once trusted, a metric ton of invective- and hate-filled messages and death threats from Fuentes’s hissing, spitting fan cult, the criminal case remains unadjudicated. After more than a dozen continuances granted to his attorney, it sounds like the case will finally come to resolution in January 2026, two days before my birthday and two calendar years after it happened. I know the wheels of justice are slow, I expected that, but I never would have guessed that a battery charge that was issued by the police in November of 2024 would be granted extension after extension without question. It seems like we’re getting close to the finish line now but I’ve thought that before. I do feel like Charlie Brown trusting Lucy’s reassurances that she would not yank the football despite his better judgment only to find himself flying through the air and landing on his back yet again with thud and a trademark ugh, but these seem to be our times.
Enough about me.
Speaking of calendars, on January 20, it will have been a full year of MAGA’s wet dream seeing fruition with Trump and his regime’s henchmen’s daily displays of incompetence, lawlessness, recklessness, violence and abject cruelty. We knew it was going to be bad, real bad, but perhaps we lacked the imagination to fully comprehend what we would be in for in this country. The embarrassment and humiliation is one thing; it is seeing one’s country actively destroyed bit by tragic bit, human beings tossed into the wood chipper that is this administration, that really causes one to dig deep to find reasons for hope.
Ultimately, that must be part of how some tyrannies succeed, through the constant erosion of our last vestiges of decent options. This is heavy, suffocating stuff and maybe your take-away is more cheerful than mine but I believe in being honest, even if in the process I get labeled a Debbie Downer. Coming from my background, I do not believe that there’s much to be gained in relentlessly painting a positive spin on what is plainly in front of one’s face, nor a stubbornly negative one. In 1776, Thomas Paine published a pamphlet titled “The American Crisis,” meant to boost morale during the darkest days of the American Revolution, and in it is a famous line: “These are the times that try [our] souls.” I feel, more than I have ever in my lifetime, that we are in one of those crucial and difficult historic moments. For those of us who believe in democracy and compassion, in justice and equality, these are the darkest of times.
I think at times like this that challenge what we are made of, it is more important than ever to see things as clearly and without fluff so we can operate from a place of naming things with as much honesty and lucidity as possible. If we can name things, we can start to fix them but until we start naming things with courage and conviction, we are very much at risk.
One of the hardest aspects of living through this regime is just the sheer stress of it, the chaos and unremitting barrage of their malevolence. With the end of the year, many of us are feeling disconnected, untethered, anxious and just plain unhappy. We remember other holiday seasons and this feels so starkly different. I check in with myself and sometimes it feels like I am just moving through life like a sleepwalker lately; I barely recognize myself at times, like I woke up in a stranger’s body. A stranger who is operating at about 20% capacity of the person I recognize. Emotionally, I’m flat. Mentally, I’m inattentive. Physically, I’m sluggish. It is the oddest, most unsettling thing, feeling like a stranger to myself, plopped into some pod, but I also am realizing that though this is uncommon for me, there is a tinge of familiarity to it because this is what PTSD feels like, at least in my body. I’ve been talking to a lot of people who are describing something similar. You don’t have to put a label on it. You can just know that this can be what it feels like to move through the world as a sensitive person who has covered themself in layers of self-protection.
If you’ve achieved less this year than had planned, please, show yourself some grace and understanding. Even if you didn’t have neo-Nazis and misogynists leaving you messages and swatting your home, you have been through it because all feeling, engaged people have been through it. If you have been part of the resistance against Trump and Trumpism, or even if you haven’t been, show yourself a little kindness if you’re feeling rather punchdrunk in these waning days of 2025. Though the worst individuals you can imagine have achieved lots of lots of destruction of good things – it’s what makes them feel alive, after all – you can be assured that we pushed back a lot and things could have even been worse. Look to Chicago. (Hey, it’s the first time I’ve been tear-gassed. Cross that one off my reverse bucket list.) Look to Portland. Look to Minneapolis. Look to Charlotte. Look at how we have stood up against ICE in the most community-minded, fierce, resourceful ways. Look to the activists. Look to the organizers. Look to the artists. Look to the judges. Look to the people who are showing up in big and small ways every day for their neighbors. Look to the business owners who are saying, no, terrorizing people is not allowed on our premises. Look to the ordinary people who are saying, quite emphatically, “NO. We are better than that.”
I will tell you what I have been telling myself: It’s okay to rest. It’s okay to dip out. These days between Christmas and New Year’s Day have historically been a time of quiet contemplation and getting in a strong, healthy, balanced headspace for the year to come. Allowing yourself this grace and this time to heal could be your biggest gift to both yourself and the world. The bad actors, I can assure you, will still be at it in the year ahead. Rest up. Now is the time to build your strength. (Maybe even have a little fun!) This liminal time is one that prioritizes nourishing yourself and gaining the reserves of strength you will need. You’ll be back. Use this little bubble wisely, kindly.
It’s been a year. Just breathe. Rebuild. Your voice, your spirit, your presence, YOU are needed like never before. I appreciate you. You are doing the good work. Thank you.