Life Will Be the Death of Me: . . . and You Too!(64)

I thought I was nailing it, for a really long time.

I spent my twenties wanting people to think I was great.

I spent my thirties thinking people thought I was great.

I turned forty, and I started wondering what I thought about me.



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I was starting to feel less desultory about the state of the country. I was starting to feel purposeful. I knew the impact my words could have. That my heart was in the right place for compassion and understanding, and that the act of helping people simply because you were born in the right country was and is necessary.

I talked to Dan about my desire to work for a better cause and the feelings of insecurity that came along with that. Would I be able to wait and see what would happen without instant results? In 2018, I had thrown myself fully and wholly into getting women elected and getting minorities and marginalized groups represented in government—and getting all of the above registered to vote. I knew from previous experiences that if I dove headfirst into something, results would follow.

    I couldn’t read enough or learn enough about elections, about government, about what it takes to run for office. (Not much, it turns out.)

I wanted Donald Trump to be erased from history—although I understand that not to be possible. Generations after us will have to learn about how badly we chose and how long we allowed it to go on for.

A dictator is usually homegrown. Someone who has been spoiled and coddled their whole life and has never really done a single thing of merit. Narcissism at its finest.

Donald Trump is a crustacean. He is a bag of psychological cement that was the catalyst for me unlocking my own bag of psychological cement, and for this I am grateful. Would I go back to the way I was and live the rest of my life like that, if it meant avoiding Donald Trump altogether? In a heartbeat.

I know now how small I am, and how big the world is. I know that the entire democracy of America is in the hands of each person who holds the right to vote. I know now that it is not only about using your singular voice, however big or small your platform is, but about helping everyone and encouraging every person to do the same. You may cast a small net, but every small net adds up to something bigger.

    I may not be able to save the world, but I can save people. One by one, family by family, and that is worthwhile. Helping people understand how important their voice is. That getting involved in politics is worthwhile, and doesn’t have to be your whole life. That too many people before us have fought to earn us the right to vote, and not to exercise that right is disrespectful to those who devoted their lives to seeking justice and fairness for all. They weren’t just fighting for themselves; they fought for all of us. We must all fight together. To be strong together. To fight not only for the rights that affect you. We have a duty to fight for the rights that affect all of our brothers and sisters. Stand for something. Say something. Stick your neck out and be brave. Fight. In 2018 we elected 116 women to Congress, because so many people fought so tirelessly.

Your voice has meaning. Find something you care about that has nothing to do with you, and learn about it. Pay attention when you’re tired. Take care of yourself. Read more. Watch less TV. Find new people to teach you their life lessons. Be proactive.

Know that you have something of value that is unlike what anyone else has.

The world is only getting browner and gayer, and if you don’t hop on board, you’re going to miss the bus.

Go after happiness like it is the only thing you can take with you when you die. Stand up for yourself. Treat yourself the way you treat the person you love most in the world. Get on your own team.

Wake up. Take a nap. Laugh. Cry. Rinse. Repeat.