Dear 2016, I win.

Dec 31

Dear 2016,

You think you won. You think you got the better of me. Of all of us.

But you’re wrong. So ppfffftttthhhhh.

You took artistic giants – over and over you took them – but we still float like a butterfly, sing in the purple rain and whisper carelessly. The force – and the Space Oddity – are still with us.

You took our election and gave it to a madman, but passionate, organized fighters still guide us through the darkness as we insist that all humans are created and treated equally.

You took my friend, but I still have her reconciliation, wisdom, creativity, laughter and complicated friendship.

And you know what else? You thought all the celebrity death announcements, talking head media, madman Twitter-trigger-finger rantings and personal grief would obscure what I have.

But it didn’t.

I have my mental, emotional and physical health. And I’m writing this in front of a pool in the Bahamas. So there.

I’m celebrating my 15 year anniversary with a creative, sensitive, passionate man who lets me sob on his chest, makes me laugh two seconds later and lets me be my own woman. I’ve got warm, furry, purring creatures that fill my house (I have a house!) with play and love and knocked over objects.

My dear, dear friends from 3 to 3,000 miles away always share their glorious senses of humor, deep empathy, talented minds and strong shoulders when I need them.

I have a group of gals like I’ve never had before. Strong, whip-smart, compassionate, honest, vulnerable, fierce, inspiring, unapologetic. So look out.

My family is nearby, loving and supportive even when we (vehemently) disagree.

I am so damn lucky to live my daily bliss of coaching actors to be their most imaginative, honest, courageous selves and artists. I get to celebrate them on and off screen. And I get paid for it.

I have the ridiculous opportunity to sing and jam bravely with other amateur musicians who I trust won’t judge that broken, flat note.

I still have my damn voice, 2016. Speaking, writing, singing and being heard.

I have guided meditation that has most definitely come in handy in diffusing the stress balls you’ve thrown directly at my face throughout the year.

You tried, 2016, you big bully, but you failed.

I cried, I mourned (still mourn), I got beaten down, I ducked, I stumbled, I threw my hands up in the air, I lost my shit, I almost hid under the bed with a jar of peanut butter. But I also connected bravely, listened fiercely, fought outside my comfort zone, collaborated joyously, supported thankfully, healed, learned, grew and laughed until I fell over from the funny.

You didn’t get me, 2016. I’m still here. I’ve got a few extra scars, but I’m still standing. I’m ready for whatever is next.

Don’t let the door hit you. Or, you know, go ahead…let it.


2 Responses to “Dear 2016, I win.”

  1. Yuri Lowenthal says:

    Love you, R. Big hugs to you, the big guy and the little furry ones. Our 15th anniversary is today! Here's to kicking ass in the New Year!

  2. Robin Dale Meyers says:

    Backatchya, Yuri! Happy Anniversary to all of us and a glorious new year!

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