I used to think I had no fucks left to give. You know that’s a thing right? No fucks to give. Sometimes my generation makes my head hurt but in this instance I felt completely at home with the general consensus that life is just easier when you don’t care about the fucks.(Have I said fuck yet enough to be cool…because fuck makes you cool, that’s another thing that’s a thing).
Big girls saying “bad” words, further emphasizing that they have run out of the fucks and all of the pressures and concerns they bring.
I am independent.
I am too smart for your boundaries.
I am willful and brilliant and wild.
But it’s wrong. Beyond wrong it’s a fucking lie.
We are not built to give up the fucks.
We are built to have all the fucks in the world and never pretend otherwise.
I know that in general the intention of “I’m all out of fucks” is to empower the speaker.
A dynamic, ruthless, powerful statements of self. To shout from the rooftops our acceptance of who we are and flip the bird to anyone who would dare challenge our right to be defined by our own mind and actions.
To be free of the narrow view of what is good and whole.
And that’s awesome.
But it draws a line where a door belongs.
It allows for thick skin and defiance, begging pardon for the gentle weeping of the tender.
The hurt and the notice and the grief.
Good Christ in heaven the grief.
The unfathomable surrender to all that is broken and wanting.
The injustice in our world.
The self-sacrifice and intercession.
What of that.
The beauty and rawness and hope of feeling.
ALL THE FUCKS.
Today a community will be burying a daughter.
Not a weathered, assertive woman with no fucks to give but the seed of a generation whose roots were just beginning to grow.
A child who looked for words to explain her fucks and found instead dismissive defiance of the overwhelming emotion she was carrying.
Be a warrior child. Be fierce and brave. Walk past the delicate trip and fall that is becoming a woman. Where words and face can wound like knives and the overwhelming exhaustion of who we are meant to be overtakes the fragile reality of who we are.
Aware. Open. Gentle, and tender, and “needy” as fuck.
We do our girls a disservice when we teach them not to give a fuck. It’s too general. Too big.
It’s a breakdown in the feminine and ultimately a loss of power.
To be free. To grow to accept, even understand another’s position without feeling responsible to it’s weight.
To carefully listen and gently know our ground.
To be raised up to stand the gap, to buckle under the emotion, to flow freely and sweetly. Tender and unresolved towards awareness and love.
This is fierce.
To feel all the fucks. To look them proudly in the face and allow them their moment. To learn from them. To grow in the shade of caring, and seeking, and wanting connection.
To give all the fucks. Every last petty, bleeding, obnoxious, and suffocating fuck.
The bravery to do that is where our power lies.
We hobble the future when we teach it less.