Lent 2025 Day 7: You Shouldn't Put Your Personal Life on Social Media. F@ck That S#it!
"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." – John 1:5
I have depression. I've lived with it and managed it my whole life. When I was a child, I just thought it was melancholy—mostly because of my brain, generational trauma, and being closeted. With decades of therapy, medication, and a high threshold for pain and suffering, I've made it through. But it hasn’t been easy.
In the last 15 years, I've lost my father, my mother, two close friends to suicide, one to poverty and poor healthcare, four meaningful romantic relationships, and several different jobs. Change is always happening, loss is inevitable, and grief comes with those losses. Healing, we hope, is the byproduct of grief.
The last six months have been tough. Ending another relationship, starting law school, and moving back to Rochester—it's been really difficult to navigate so many emotions coming at me all at once. At times, I've felt like I was circling the drain, close to getting sucked into the dark abyss of nothingness. Healing seemed unattainable.
Many people may think I'm probably an extrovert, but I'm also a GenXer, so I'm real cool at being alone and feral. Surprise! I'm doing the best I can out there in the wild.
I do all the things to appear like a functioning adult—grocery shopping, vacuuming, paying my bills, socializing, etc. For the most part, I try to understand my personal relationship with myself.
There are days I'm totally cool with myself. There are days that I'm not so cool. But after five decades, I've come to an agreement with my depression and myself: If I get out of bed every single day, I should probably be somewhat productive and do something meaningful for me. Something that, in some small way, benefits my world and maybe the world of the people I love, too. Whatever it is, it’s enough for me to want to climb out of bed and do it again the next day.
So, what does that look like? Chillin. Getting centered. Healing my heart. Thinking. Writing. Singing badly in the shower. Dancing in the kitchen. Golfing. Doing all the things I haven't had the time or energy to do before—especially now that the world is in a state of calamity and most likely heading into a recession.
Lenten Reflection: Holding Onto Light in Darkness
Lent is a season of reflection, struggle, and transformation. It is 40 days of walking through the wilderness, much like Jesus did. And in the wilderness, things feel bleak. Heavy. Never-ending.
But John 1:5 reminds us: "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."
The world is strange and bizarre right now. Nothing feels normal. And maybe that’s because it shouldn’t. Maybe we are meant to sit in this discomfort, to truly feel what is broken, and to push back against it.
So my advice? Learn to love yourself. Love your life. Love your friends. Love your family. Love your enemies (punch them if they’re Yahtzee’s). Love your neighbors. Love the Trans community. People are scared, anxious, and worried. Be a helper. Look to the helpers. Because nothing is normal, and if you’re feeling a bit out of sorts? Good. You should.
It’s rough. It’s unfair. It’s a strange and often brutal world. But we are still here. And as long as we are here, we must choose to love, to resist, and to carry the light forward.
Lent teaches us that transformation is possible. That even in the wilderness, even in grief, we are still moving toward something greater. We are walking toward renewal, resurrection, and hope.
The world keeps testing us. But we persist.
For additional readings for biblical context and connection to Liberation Theology Go HERE
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