all the advice I never got.

Many, many times in my life, I have wished that someone older and smarter than me would have pulled me aside and gave me advice on how to handle whatever I was going through at that moment. I needed some strategy, politics training, detachment training, bigger-picture thinking, financial management knowledge, and a basic how-to-hide-your-heart-when-needed guide to life.

I had no idea about anything. I was trying my untrained best. I still don’t know anything (thankfully) so don’t get too excited.

What I realize now, is that often there wasn’t anyone older than me who had even been through what I was going through, personally, professionally, or culturally. At least, no one I knew, no one I could really relate to. No one that could teach me, or even see me in the view for that matter. And it’s no one’s fault. It’s just part of where you come from sometimes. That is where I am from. The in-between of wanting and not having. The in-between of not being there and wanting to be there. My dad just said we were the working class.

I knew early I wanted to get to another class, whatever that meant. I wanted to buy books whenever I wanted to. I wanted to travel. I wanted to explore. I wanted to see art in person. I wanted access to all the things.

I looked for mentors at my jobs but it was never quite what I wanted. The women I did know who were bosses, sorta sealed themselves off as people in an unapproachable way. Sure, they would offer you very measured advice, but generally sealed off from their actual feelings. It was kinda helpful, the same way an umbrella is…. but not really.

Anywho, this is where I am going to try to put down some advice, so that it can function as a reference point for women trying to move forward, more than the final destination. Not that I have the best advice or the official training to do so. I don’t. I have failed a million times, a million ways. But I can tell you how to get back up and keep going. That I do know. I have real scars.

It’s just my life experience and a good sense of humor about it all, so take it for what it’s worth. Which is, a place to start if you don’t have a place to start. A small guiding light to a future in this dark world. Consider it a note from a future you. A note from a friend who made it the fuck out of the dark times. And dark times will happen.

This isn’t for people who have succeeded, whatever that means to you. Congratulations, you.

This is for the strugglers, the change-your-own-tires, the pump-your-own-gas, the carry-your-own-groceries people. You know who you are.

This is for the teenage girl who feels invisible. This is for the 20-year-old girl who has $30 in her account, a crappy job, and a crappy car, but some good friends. This is for the 25-year-old girl who can’t imagine how people have savings or buy a single thing of value in this world. I know those feelings.

My first piece of advice. Trust yourself. If you just take a moment to really think about something, even a few days, you will know the right thing to do. And just do the right thing for yourself.

More coming on this — this is only the start and I will update as I can.

Part of me isn’t sure who I am writing this for — but another part of me knows exactly who this is for. I’ll find them and they will find me. The next. My love letter to the next survivors, rebels, and artists. You got this. Some are 8 right now and in awe of giant sculptures near the ocean. Some are 17, wearing all black and carrying around a notebook. They are part of our family. I see you. I see you. It’s okay. You are going to be okay.

more to come as I think it through.