Since November 8, 2016, I’ve thought a lot about what it means to be an engaged, pragmatic progressive citizen, and have tried to be one in word and in deed. Because I have few original ideas with regard to changing the world, I tend to follow the lead of smarter, more energetic individuals. Thus, I registered for volunteer training at my local LGBTQ Center. I donated what I could to the ACLU and the Southern Poverty Law Center. I bought a pair of marching shoes (really they’re sneakers and I made sure they’re cute as hell, because you never know when your future husband or wife is marching beside you, okay?). I’ve read, a lot — about protest, about training, about volunteering, about resistance, about running for office, about registering voters, about keeping our focus on 2018 to flip the Senate and the House. But what I haven’t read about a lot is self-care during these difficult days. There is a pain shared by so many Americans, a gaping maw of mournful disappointment, and a deep well of fear: 65,844,954 of us voted for her (that’s 2,865,075 more than voted for the other one). Our daft Electoral College system — a scam if ever there were one — prevents the fair election of a president by a direct popular vote. And so we ended up here. The Bad Thing has happened, and it's not going to end anytime soon. We know that, because we are empathetic and intuitive and smart; because we’ve got eyes in our head and a brain right behind them, humming along and synthesizing information that’s both easy to understand and frightening to comprehend. Yes, we will fight. Sometimes we will win. Sometimes we will lose. But along the way, how do we take care of ourselves? How do we ensure that weariness does not set in; that the exhaustion of the constant fight does not drag us under; that we do not throw up our hands in despair and give up on everyone else, and finally on ourselves? I have a few ideas. They are simple. You have undoubtedly heard most or all of them before. But they are also important. And I want you to please remember them, as we dive into this thing — together. You Do Not Have To Engage With Every Single Fight

You are not obligated to call out every single thing that pisses you off or that hurts your heart. You are not on duty 24/7 as the lone warrior for justice. There are so many of us out here doing the work alongside you. You do not have to respond to every shitty comment from every shitty leader and every shitty hate-voter who refuses to engage in critical thinking and real self-education. And this leads me to my next point… Limit Your Social Media Time

Last year, I realized I was wasting energy, bogged down in social media chatter instead of doing some of the vital work I needed to do to be a healthy person, a good friend, and an effective activist in my community. Like many other freelancers who primarily work from home, I had grown accustomed to using social media as my virtual water cooler — a place where I could communicate with other folks. The strategy backfired in 2016. I spent more time pissed off and exhausted than delighted and energized. Now I schedule time to use social media to share things I think are beautiful, intelligent, hopeful — and, yes, at times, things that upset and disturb me. I make jokes. I goof around. Sometimes I get serious. I engage here and there in political conversation.