Empathy. That's it. That's the Post.

I'm an empath, in that I absorb other people's energies and emotions. I don't know why, maybe because I was raised by a narcissist and absorbed all her shit, or maybe I just am who I am? No idea, but I am a sensitive soul who is glad to be so.

But you don't have to be an Empath with a big E to practice empathy.

When I was 19, a thousand years ago, my grandma died while I was at work. She'd been close to leaving for some time and my parents had been living with her full time so she could die at home. She was the only grandparent I'd known, as the others all died before I was born or shortly after.

A week earlier, I'd gone to my parents' house to feed the dogs and found our Husky, Tiffany, on the floor of the kitchen, lying in her own pee, unable to get up. My dad came over and we drove her to the vet where we made the decision to euthanize. Then a week later, my grandma died.

I was at work at Clothestime, a little clothing store chain in Southern California that is now long gone. My manager knew about my dog and that my grandma was sick. Sometime during that shift, someone called the store and told my manager my grandma had died. My manager didn't tell me about it until my shift was over so that I wouldn't leave. "You'd want to keep busy anyway," she said, as if she was considering my feelings at all by keeping that information from me. As if keeping that decision out of my hands was the kind thing to do.

That isn't empathy; it's selfishness cloaked in supposed good intentions.

Maybe her night would have been harder. She'd have had to close the store on her own and had to stay later in order to pick up the slack. But that one night would have made all the difference for me, a young person who'd just lost her only grandparent. Sometimes we have to sacrifice a little of ourselves to help someone in need.

I bring this up now to show how so many of our priorities are fucked up. In my years managing or supervising or even just mentoring others, I've often said the words, "It's good to value your work, but you're not saving lives." Because at the end of the day, unless you work in health care, it's just not that critical! There are so many things that are more important than our jobs and it takes some empathy from those who supervise these jobs to figure that out.

A few years after that, I was a manager at a Victoria's Secret store in Los Angeles. One night, one of my employees, on her way home from a late shift, was assaulted by someone who followed her off the bus. After that, if I was the closing manager, I drove home any girls who rode the bus. I was 22 and 23, driving all over Los Angeles late at night, in neighborhoods I didn't know in the days before GPS or smart phones, and I never thought twice about it. Because protecting the women around me was important. Because I had a car and made more money than they did. I also made sure the gal who was attacked never worked a late shift again because it was triggering for her.

I don't tell this story to prop myself up, but to show that there are ways in which we can give of ourselves to help others and make small differences. We live in the society we do and while I think most of that is designed to be unjust, regular people don't have to march in lockstep to that injustice. We can subvert that by being kind, by extending some heart to others, by showing patience to those who rely on our decisions.

Especially now, when we're all experiencing trauma and grief, allowing some room for people to cope and survive is essential. I'm not talking about big institutional changes, which are important for sure, but how individuals, especially those who hold some sort of authority over others (managers, business owners, landlords, teachers, etc.) can extend empathy to effect change on the micro.

Earlier this year, I was bullied off a specific nerd fandom site from a young person who "just feels like the term trauma is overused" and felt that people should just buck up because it's all shit everyone goes through. And, like, I don't regret that ass bullying my traumatized ass away (because my mental health is more important than any fandom), but I do wish he'd heard my argument which was, in a gist: YES, it's all shit we all go through and that shit is TRAUMA and in order to recover, we need more empathy, not less.

Yes, we all experience horrific things. Yes, that is all trauma. All of us experience trauma.All of us, yes even you. Just because it's common doesn't mean that's okay. We all need to learn how to cope with that and recover.

Now, we're experiencing a collective trauma and the only thing that will help us survive (besides physical health solutions) is empathy. Empathy is what drives emotional healing and survival. If you have a way to extend some kindness to someone whose life you affect? Fucking do it! Now is the time.

That also extends to the self. You have to be kind to yourself, gentle with yourself. You are the most important person in the survival of you.

I know your trauma is lying to you. Your anxiety is lying to you. Your depression is lying to you. It's telling you all sorts of things about yourself that make you feel shitty and worthless and hopeless. You know how I know? All those things lie to me too! I'm soooooo fucking tired all the time and my body holds the scars of all of the trauma and anxiety and depression, but who else will defend me but me?

My therapist has me do an exercise and it feels completely silly, but it works. When those harmful lies are being thrown at me, I talk back. I pretend the little Andrea inside me is a real, separate person, and I defend her. I use my sassiest, wittiest, foul-mouthed arsenal of words, and I stand up for her. Trust me, it works, because once you hear it out loud, you know you're right and that all of that mess churning in your heads was made of lies.

We're going through a lot. We're scared. We're grieving. We're coping as best we can. I really and truly believe the only way we're going to get through this is with empathy and kindness.

And P.S., guilting your Boomer parents into staying home so they can stay alive for you IS kindness too. Just saying. They guilted you for 40 years, now it's your turn.

And stay home!

I made this. Feel free to use.