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Dear Tiffany,

I’m not really sure what you need this morning, but I know it’s something. Maybe something gentle. Something with a little space in it.

This morning, you have official Love Letter Permission to put your head down and work all day even though that’s not what you’re “supposed” to be doing these days.

This morning, you have official Love Letter Permission to take a nap if you don’t want to work all day, even though that means you won’t get everything done.

This morning, you have official Love Letter Permission to be social or to not be social.

You don’t have to drive anywhere if you don’t want to.

You don’t have to stay home if you don’t want to.

You have permission to do whatever feels best, and I trust you to make those choices, and I promise I will do my best not to get to the end of the day and beat you up for whatever choices you made.

Also, maybe eat some breakfast.

Love,
Me

#100loveletters

http://falseknees.com/254.html

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Dear Tiffany,

To do list – not complete.

Most important items on to do list, if ‘important’ is defined in work-centric ways – mostly complete.

Most important items on to do list, if ‘important’ is defined in non-work-centric ways – not complete.

Shame spiral – not happening.

Compassionate awareness of the situation – totally happening.

Check you out!

Love,
Me

#100loveletters

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Dear Tiffany,

You’re home. You just made the bed with fresh sheets. You have not whipped out a notebook to make yourself a to do list for tomorrow, and that’s a win.

I love you.

– Me

#100loveletters

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Dear Tiffany,

I remember putting together ridiculous, elaborate, fancy menus for ridiculous, elaborate, fancy meals.

You have always loved the rituals of Fancy Food.

Fancy Food prepared for yourself.

Fancy Food prepared for someone you love.

Fancy Food at restaurants and in hotel rooms.

Fancy Food in its many forms.

I really love how these rituals of eating – these moments of mindfulness and care – have been a consistent source of joy for you.

I think it’s pretty cool, that deep and enduring love of Fancy Food.

Chomp onward, chickadee.

Love,
Me

#100loveletters

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Dear Tiffany,

Sometimes you feel so small and powerless. So tired – bone tired, soul tired.

You can barely walk down two flights of stairs, how are you going to hold the line against the torch-wielding, hate-spewing slimebuckets who are coming for your friends?

Sometimes you get so angry about that. You want to be something else. Someone else.

And you are not a particularly chill person. Like, at all. You’re cold all the time, but that’s not the same thing.

You do not have any of the qualities that you perceive as making a person a ‘warrior’ – and sometimes you’re cool with that, and you try to believe the things you say about the movement needing everyone, but *really* you feel pretty ashamed about it.

I love you anyway.

You will keep doing what you do, because even though you are small and weak and achy and tired and cold all the time, even though you are a sucking vortex of Feels, even though you lack both chill and skill, even though all of that is true, still, I love you and you have value and you have something to offer and you will keep offering it because you do that.

You are all-in, even if your “all-in” is more a splish than a splash.

Anyway, also, there are so many people like you, who feel small and powerless and tired. Do they have value? Yes, obviously.

So, there you go.

This isn’t a great letter, but I guess that’s also okay.

You’ve always wanted to be a crow or a raven. Powerful. Magical. Mythical.

But I think you’re more of a magpie, and there’s also magic in that.

Smaller magic.

But still magic.

Keep on going, little magic magpie Gloom Fairy self.

Love,
Me

#100loveletters

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Dear lovely fibromyalgia-enhanced body,

You are so resilient, and strong, and true. If I listen, you tell me where the boundaries are, and if I respect them, you bounce back from the flares.

It’s hard for me to remember this, because sometimes the boundaries are impossible. Emotional edges that I can’t control.

‘Ease up on the stress, I’m on the edge of a cliff,’ you say. But I can’t. So I don’t. And we crash. Two months of this flare, chickadee!

I forget that you do tell the truth.

And then today, a physical boundary. ‘No more stairs!’ you say. And I spend the rest of the day in the room, and the pain eases up. You told me what you needed and when I listened, it was okay.

There is so much about trust and care in this.

All the boundaries I haven’t been able to respect, to control, make it seem blurry. But it isn’t blurry. It’s just complicated, and that’s not your fault.

Today was good. Even the pain. Maybe especially the pain, because it allowed the communication.

Good job, us.

#100loveletters

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Dear Tiffany,

You did the thing!

Now you have some time to relax.

It’s okay to slack off.

Actually, it’s important.

I believe in your ability to work hard and get things done and design and execute Big Ideas. And I also believe in your ability to stretch into the more uncomfortable space of stillness and rest.

Take a deep breath. And then, rather than diving into a project on the exhale, just take another breath.

Love,
Me

#100loveletters

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Dear Tiffany,

You have an outfit for every occasion.

Elf Commander? Of course.

Gloom Fairy? Multiple.

Writer Girl? An evolving look, but definitely there.

Outfits for hard days and outfits for introverted days and outfits to help you feel grounded and outfits to help you feel queer.

Flying during the Perseids and returning during the eclipse? Yes, an outfit for that, too.

I love your outfits.

Love,
Me

#100loveletters
#365feministselfie