November 16, 2015


On Friday night, I was sitting outside in the warm Florida evening in front of a dessert shop with my fiance, eating a banana foster crepe with vanilla gelato on top.

And I am so incredibly lucky to say that. Because being able to tell you that means that I am in the top tier when it comes to having a privileged, beautiful life. It also means that it's hard to empathize with the Parisians who were injured this weekend, and almost impossible to empathize with the people who live lives where that kind of fear and violence is commonplace. I am so incredibly sad for them but my life is so far removed from that, I can't know what they're going through.

I had been planning on a post about Derrick and my anniversary on Friday (or, if we're being honest, mostly just about the celebratory crepe), but somehow that doesn't feel right today.

Instead, all I can think about is how much hate there is out there. And there's so much of it. The hate that can convince someone to kill people he doesn't know. The hate from those who blame innocent people for it. The hate from the ones who dismiss the people who are mourning or mock the people who are showing support. There's so much hate, it feels like we're drowning in it.

This post isn't to criticize people's anger or their grief or their fear. And this isn't a political post about how I think the world should respond. Hell if I know what to do about this.

All I'm trying to say is that this weekend was just another reminder that there's a lot of hate and a lot of cruelty out there, and that it's capable of overshadowing all the beauty in life, if you let it. There's not a lot I can do about it and it's not something I can control, but I can control what I decide to contribute.

Because the way I see it is that if you're one of the lucky ones who live a life that can be so, so beautiful, the least you can do is make sure you don't let your own hate take that away.