It’s two days before Christmas and I’m on the floor, fetal position, in front of an “easy-to-assemble” standing mirror from IKEA. I’ve tried for over an hour to secure the washer to the flathead screw and subsequently attach it to the wooden beam, but the screw won’t stop flopping out. You can do this! I tell myself. Tighty-righty, lefty-loosey. Sobby Sally!
My two kittens come to help. They inspect the situation with serious whiskers and concerned paws—gingerly batting the nails and slow blinking as I begin to cry.
Everything feels sadder at Christmas
I’ve already braved IKEA the day before—enduring the crowds of couples and eternal disdain of the yellow-shirted staff who vaguely waved their hands when I asked for directions. They seem to hate me and, having once worked a Christmas season in retail, I don’t blame them.
I select a huge mirror and haul it into my car, driving 20 miles on the highway with it blocking my rearview window, then drag it up the steps—exhausted but triumphant—only to be undone by a screw.
Two hours later, I cave and hire a TaskRabbit Tasker who arrives tall and polite, at exactly 7:30 pm. He softly takes off his shoes and greets both my cats. Then, he puts my mirror together in under six minutes with a mathematical precision which can’t be properly described as anything other than erotic.
I really wish I knew how to do simple manual labor tasks. But I don’t. I’m bad at measuring and math and cars and maps. I’ve spent my time learning how to write complicated metaphors and craft air-tight sentences. I possess the emotional intelligence of a trauma therapist, own my own business, and write best-selling books, but hand to heart, I can’t hang a fucking picture.
The men I date are good at laying me down and loving my body. They understand sex—the fixed urgency and indisputable necessity, but somehow miss the rest. It’s hard to explain my tangible appetites, especially as a feminist, are a little boring. That I’m turned on by the idea of someone carrying up the heavy bags of cat litter or assembling a desk or doing the mental labor of picking a dinner spot. How to explain that what I deeply fantasize about is an equitable and shared life in which, at some point, I get to rest.
Dating men + Girl Boss culture seem to teach me the same lesson: It is impossible to stay soft and survive.
The previous tasker I hired came last summer and installed my AC unit. We had to sit on my bed to reach the window and, in the slow June heat, he told me about how (when he wasn’t working odd jobs installing AC units for tired, horny women), he was a boxer. He learned boxing because his father, the church pastor, knocked him about until he grew big enough to punch back. He laughs and stretches out his bent fingers to show where the bones didn’t heal straight: I’ve never loved anything like I love boxing, he says. It’s the only thing I’m built for. He flicks a switch and the AC aches on.
Most days, I don’t rely on men for much. Not for building furniture or changing my oil or having babies or entering marriage. Recently, a man lay beside me in bed and asked what I really want. I shrug silently in the dark. Somewhere inside me is another answer: I would give anything to be allowed to be soft again.
When the boxer leaves, he slips me his phone number. In case you ever want to reach me off the app, he says. I’d like to see you again. There’s a tiny filled-in heart at the end of the sentence instead of a period.
I tip him 30% and never call. But on warm nights when the AC clicks on, I remember his careful, crooked hands.
Are you a poet or essayist feeling the call to your creativity?
My writing community, Sustenance, is capping enrollment. And we have only 30 spots left. Once we hit our 250 member cap, our community will be closed indefinitely and will only open new spots if someone leaves. This means this January 15th may be your only chance to join in 2026. Join the waitlist here. 💗
P.S. Sustenance now hosts IRL quarterly meetups in seven major hubs so you can connect with other writers locally! If you join the community this January, you’ll also be able to join us for our annual retreat this summer!
P.P.S. : Also! We just completed an annual community survey in which Sustenance scored a whopping 91(!)% in overall satisfaction!
Here’s what a couple members said:
💌 Sustenance has been a lifeline for me, not only educating and inspiring me, but also restoring some much needed faith in the world, the people in it, and the transformative power of art and poetry. This community is a godsend and I couldn’t be more grateful xx
💌 When friends ask me how I’m doing, I OFTEN talk about Sustenance and how much it means to me. It’s become a very important part of my life, and I’m so grateful! <3 <3 <3
💌 Joining Sustenance is still one of the best things I have ever done for myself
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