I'm Moving On From "FAFO"...

It's time.

Grief has five stages, according to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross. Those stages are: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. These phases are non-linear and fluid, meaning that they don’t occur one after the other in any particular order and people can shift back and forth between the stages at any given time. I think the “FAFO” trend would probably fit squarely in the anger stage. As such, I’ve decided to progress past the desire to engage in that behavior. I don’t need it anymore. At least, it’s not healthy to keep doing and expect it to be effective at unification. We have bigger things to do. If you’ll allow me, I’ll explain my thoughts.

Firstly, let’s acknowledge what happened on 11/5/24; I mean fully acknowledge it. Bring it into the room and let it sit beside us, like a person. Give whatever happened to us emotionally and psychologically a face and a body. Give it a skin. Then, let it sit right next to us or across from us. He or she or they are there now. They’re there. All of whatever it was that we thought. All of whatever it was that we felt. The anticipation. The fear. The disappointment. That sense of explosive grief. The anger. Whatever it was that went on inside you. And, then we’re going to accept that that embodiment of all those things is ours and we can be present with it.

Okay. So, here we go.

It wasn’t just an election. It was a defeat. Not just of the Democrats, but of our hope. We had hoped America was ready. We had hoped America was better. We had put faith in Vice President Harris. We poured emotion into her campaign. We knew what was at stake. She did, too. So, too, did Governor Walz. The joy people felt with her rallies and appearances. The empowerment that her victory would mean for our daughters, sisters, and other women in our lives. The stake it would drive into the heart of MAGA for all eternity. We felt certain.

I mean, for God’s sake, how can you rob women of the right to a medical procedure and let them bleed to death in hospitals — and not piss off every single woman in this country, right? Well, it appears it’s quite easy to do that with white women.

And then we got beat. Not just beat. Beaten with people we traditionally knew we could count on. This wasn’t just a loss, it was confusion. It was a blindside. It was having the right of way at an intersection and then getting t-boned by an eighteen wheeler who didn’t bother to so much as slow down for the red light.

That’s when the grieving process started. There was denial.

What? How? There’s no way such an awful person could win. Not again.

There was bargaining.

Maybe we need to do a recount. Maybe if we recount, we’ll find the discrepancies.

Then, there came the anger.

If you voted for him, you’re against common decency.

I’m cutting off everyone in my life who elected him.

And on, and on. We’ve been in the anger phase a while now. I get it. I get why we’re going through this. Anger gets shit done. It also blinds you to healthier ways of doing things. The old adage I learned a long time ago, that has borne true time and time again, is this: grief is the price we pay for having the ability to love.

And, friends, we loved. Now, we get the grief. With that grief comes these stages — and they are hard. But, we cannot stay stuck in them, unwilling to get past what happened and only locked in on punishing and seeing punished; calling out, blaming each other, and I told you so’ing others half to death. Dwelling in grief is unhealthy. It’s unproductive. Worse, it won’t allow a person to heal.

By heal I don’t mean forget. By heal I don’t mean forgive. Whoever said you have to forgive to heal didn’t do what I do for a living, because, no you don’t. What you do have to be willing to do, though, is move past. And, that’s the hardest part. Because, sometimes we get so fused to the idea of the grief and anger, that we don’t who we’d be or what we’d do without it. The shock of the hurt becomes so overwhelming it’s almost like a blanket gets thrown over us and we forget who we were and where we were going in life. And, if the hurt is a traumatic hurt? Oh, baby, then it’s not just a blanket. It’s something else entirely. It’s ghosts and specters and demons and walking nightmares and all kinds of things under the blanket with you. So, I don’t know if this loss was traumatic for anyone — I hope it wasn’t — but, if it was, this post won’t be enough to get you through what may be happening inside. If that be the case, please talk to a professional and lean on your natural supports.

By heal I don’t mean accept defeat and give up. By heal I mean accept what is and work on what you can control.

I can tell you, that there’s a purpose — other than schadenfreude — that has to come now. Because, if all we do is yell “Hah! F**k around, find out!” at everyone who says: “Man. I didn’t realize what I was doing. How do I make this right?” All we’re doing is further dividing and creating enemies. You can’t preach unity and inclusion while actively dividing and excluding. That’s not something we can have both ways, gang. Sorry. We kind of have to pick one.

I’ve done my share of the FAFO thing. It served it’s purpose. It got me through the hurt. It allowed me to feel some sense of catharsis to turn the mirror on those who felt victorious. But, once I realized that I was my own enemy in using that tactic, it turned the mirror back on me. Because, I realized there was another old saying that I learned a long time ago, in what I do:

Give people a chance to work their way back.

My papaw put it a little simpler than that:

Son, you don’t stop a man when he’s trying to make something right.

So, I’m finished with FAFO. I don’t need it anymore. I’m moving on because it’s not helping and if we’re to recover from the catastrophe that befell this country six months ago, we’re going to have to start doing helpful things. Coalition building is helpful. So, I’m going to take my grandpa’s advice. I’m going to let the people who are trying to work their way back, make it right. If they’re reaching a hand out, I’m not slapping it away by telling them they got what they deserved. I’m going to try to reach out and take their hand by finding a place we can start from. We may not agree of everything and that’s okay. We can disagree and still fight together. If the starting place is that they want to stop what’s happening to this country, too? Well, right now, that’s good enough for me.

For me, they’ve messed around and they’ve found out. I’ve reminded them of it. I’ve felt superior in the satisfaction of that admonishment. Now, it’s time to move forward and build ranks. If you want to keep FAFO’ing people, go ahead. I won’t stop you. I won’t chide or correct or deride you. I won’t tell you how to grieve. I just need you understand that it isn’t helping now and it might be doing more harm than good. I’d like for you to maybe consider moving past the need for this behavior, too. But, if you aren’t ready yet, that’s okay. You’re the expert in your life, not me. You don’t need me telling you how to grieve.