A letter to all of us who are exhausted, outraged, and still here.

I'm writing to you about something I feel in my body and in my soul.

The exhaustion.

Not tiredness. Exhaustion. The kind that settles into your bones. The kind that is still there after a full night of sleep. The kind that makes ordinary things feel heavier than they should.

I feel it. And I know you feel it too.

We are carrying something enormous right now. And most of us are carrying it without anyone acknowledging the weight of it.

So I want to start there. Before the call to action. Before anything else.

You are allowed to feel all of this.

The outrage. The exhaustion. The powerlessness. The confusion about why they keep getting away with it. The fear of giving up. The shame of what our country has become. The worry for our grandchildren.

All of it. At the same time. Without having to choose between grief and action, between anger and tenderness, between fighting and resting.

You are allowed to hold a...

 Women are angry, and most of us were never taught what to do with that kind of anger and power.

We are saying it out loud now. We are pissed off. We are done swallowing it. And yet many of us are also unsure where to put it, how to use it, how to rise without burning ourselves out.

We're Angry and We're Done Hiding It

I'm less angry today.  I have been so, so mad this week. 

But I am tired.

Tired of the onslaught.
Tired of waking up to another outrage.
Tired of feeling like every day requires vigilance.

I'm sick of all of it.

And yet I love hearing women say, “I’m pissed off.”

I love it when a woman finally says, “I’m angry.”

Not apologizing.
Not softening it.
Not stuffing it down to keep the peace.

The Good Girl Story Is Breaking

For decades, we women have kept things even keel. We have swallowed what we really thought. We have carried the emotional weight for everyone around us. We have been the good girls.

But now something is breaking open.

Maybe what all of this corrupti...

We're needed now. 

Not later.
Not when things calm down.
Now.

We're living inside the collapse of patriarchy.
And it’s not subtle.

What is breaking apart is not just political systems or institutions.
It’s the way of being that rewards domination, greed, and control, while masquerading as leadership.

And the cost has been devastating.

The Epstein Crimes Are Not an Anomaly

The Epstein crimes are not an isolated scandal.
They are a revelation.

Years of abuse.
Young women and girls trafficked, violated, silenced.
Protected by wealth, power, and institutions that knew and did nothing.

And still, at the time of this writing, not all of the files have been released.

The files that have been made public are staggering.
The redactions are glaring.
The unanswered questions are deafening.

How much was hidden?
How many names remain protected?
How long has this been allowed to continue?

This is not just about powerful men who thought they could get away with whatever depravity they chose.  

This ...

The other day, while I was babysitting my five-year-old grandson, Erik, we called his uncle in Vanuatu.

When my son Andrew answered, I said, “Hey Darling.”
It’s what I’ve always called his uncle and his dad

Erik paused.
“Gran,” he asked, “why do you call him Darling?”

I smiled and said, “Because I love him. I say that to people I love.”

He was still a little puzzled, so I tried again.
“It means you’re so special to me. It’s my way of saying, I love you.”

I gave him examples.

How his family calls him Snuggles. His dad calls him Bud.
How his grandfather calls me Sug (short for sugar)
How my son’s French partner says mon cœur…my heart.

These are terms of endearment. A way of saying, you matter.

That seemed to land.
And honestly? I think I’ll start calling Erik Darling.

Love Needs Language

Because love needs to be spoken out loud. And especially now. 

Erik and I playing Connect Four

Tenderness Exits Alongside the Terror

A constant hum of dread has entered our lives now.
Too much...