You’re Gonna Die Alone (& Other Excellent News)

by Devrie Donalson

In the morning when I asked her why my scarf had so many little twigs and shit tangled into it, she told me that I am not hard to love, but I am hard to walk home.

You can’t put off living your only life in the hope that you’ll discover the secret to becoming good enough.

What if women were allowed to do truly wild things? What if we let them dye their hair pink and take up pole dancing at forty-five, just because they want to try on someone new, the way they might try a bright nail polish color after years of wearing neutrals?

The only thing true for all of us is that we are crushed under the thumb of the cultural scripts surrounding sexuality, success, and value.

No one escapes life without at least one auditorium of humans who hate them enough to make passive-aggressive statements about them on the internet. The hard part is understanding that it’s not personal, that it’s often not about us at all.

Being alone and not being lonely is contentment, isn’t it?