You are going to fail.

As inevitable as spilling coffee on yourself before work,

as telling the woman at the concession stand to enjoy the movie too,

as dropping the overpriced mug you just bought on the hard tile floor,

as checking his instagram the day after you breakup,

as bleeding through the tampon,

as sleeping though the alarm,

as ruining the white shirt,

tripping on the crack

forgetting the name

deleting the draft

arriving late —

Yes. You are going to fail in these ways and much, much worse.

But here’s the catch, the redemptive loophole, the end left open for your own interpretation:

Your potential is more resilient than your failure.

Bend, stretch, bounce your soul  — beauty lingers there yet.


Life doesn’t always suck!

It’s incredibly easy for me to get stuck writing about the worst moments of my life. I find those the ones that typically require the most processing, and oftentimes I do that through writing and chronic oversharing.

I want to feel less alone. I want to be understood. I want to find out if my own personal dramas are connected to the universal human condition, or just weird side effects of being Kristy.

And so I complain. And I weep. And I judge quickly. And I scrape the bottom of the cauldron filled with my dark, ooey-gooey feelings and pull them up for everyone to see, hoping that someone else will say that they, too, feel the same dark, ooey-gooey feelings.

Here’s the truth: life doesn’t always suck!

You read a book that makes you smile, or look at a picture of a kitten and a bunny HUGGING EACH OTHER (seriously, this exists, check it out), or you get the job after months of being rejected, or you turn the fan on after an hour of trying to get comfortable in the stuffy room, and you realize it’s not so bad, this life. At least not all the time.

There are people who smile, and there are walking trails, and there are sunsets and sunrises and vanilla chai tea and drawings made by your little cousin.

There’s nothing much more to this post than that – the acknowledgement that even horrible periods allow for moments of breath. Time, in all it’s typical rudeness in moving on so swiftly, doesn’t allow for endless negativity. A laugh or a wink or a smile or a peace will pop up eventually.

Cling to the hope of that inevitable upturn.