What the Actual F, December!

By Mama Tiff

I haven’t written for a couple days because I’ve been sick as hell.

Like… flu + lungs shutting down = Sunday doctor visit + prednisone. Sexy, right? Nothing says “holiday magic” like coughing so hard you pee a little.

TMI? Yeah, well—welcome to real life.

And while I’m over here hacking up a lung and trying not to die, BOOM—life drops some devastating, life-altering news in my lap. No warning. No permission slip. Just… here you go. Good luck, babe.

So now I’m in this weird place where:

• My body is recovering

• My heart is breaking

• My brain is like, “What the actual fuck is happening?”

Every fall I get excited for the holidays. Cozy sweaters, sparkly lights, cinnamon-everything. Then last year, my mom died. And now this year? Somehow even more painful. Cool cool cool. Thanks, universe.

But here’s the thing I know:
Every single memory, every single season of heartbreak has always ended up making room for something better. Even if right now it feels impossible to believe that.

So today…
I’m wrapping Christmas presents. I’m watching cheesy-ass Christmas movies. I’m taking ibuprofen for the headache from hell. And I’m coughing while I try not to pee my pants (again). And I’m waiting—patiently-ish—for the good news that hasn’t shown itself yet.

Because sometimes life is just crazy and messy and painful, and you have to:

• Laugh so you don’t cry

• Swear so you feel powerful

• Trust so you don’t fall apart

To anyone else having a “what the fuck” holiday season: I see you. I’m with you. We’ll get through this, pissed off and sparkly as hell. ✨

Love you.

The Queen’s Path.