embracing what we can
as i think about chapters—of the year, of life, of identity—i keep coming back to a question: what does it feel like to be challenged just for existing?
this month, my trans friends had a hard month. an administration dragging them, openly saying they’ll only recognize two genders and two genders only. imagine hearing that from the highest level of government—like your identity is up for debate. and it makes me wonder, what is it about our community that is so threatening to certain republicans? to religious groups that don’t believe in same-sex love? why is it so hard for some people to just let others live?
i don’t know what the rest of this year is going to look like. i do know i want to find myself. to grow with myself. to stop doing the things i know are bad for me. to take care of myself. but also—to connect deeper. to feel more.
chapter 1 of 12 is ending, and like every january, it feels like a bit of a wash. a reset from the holidays. a reminder that another year is here, whether i’m ready for it or not.
learning to let go
this month, i’ve been thinking more about death. something i avoid. something i hate—because why wouldn’t i? why wouldn’t i want to live? why wouldn’t i want to celebrate the feelings that come with being alive?
but as i build kinnect, as i have the conversations i need to have, i’m realizing something: letting go isn’t optional. no ai search, no hopeful signal to the universe will change the fact that life ends. and maybe, for the first time, i’m starting to see the beauty in that.
somehow, someway, things aligned for me to even have these thoughts—to exist, to feel, to reflect. there’s something cool about that.
so maybe this first chapter of the year is the one where i start to accept that there is beauty in death, just as there is beauty in living. and that part of living is not just holding on, but saving the things that matter. capturing the moments that define us, so our experiences—our joys, our struggles, our wisdom—don’t disappear when we do.
the next chapter
we spend so much time trying to make sense of what’s ahead. but what if technology actually helped us do that in a way that felt personal? what if we could prepare for the realities of aging, of transition, of all the little shifts that happen as we move through life?
what if we could actually use what we know—the data, the stories, the things past generations didn’t have—to better understand ourselves? to make sense of graying hair patterns, body dynamics, mental health. to recognize our own emotional needs.
tech is at a point where it should be hyper-personalizing for what it feels like to be 33. to think about what it means to have a kid in the next year or two. to understand how we process relationships, how proximity affects us, how we move through the world.
because if we can’t stop time, maybe the best thing we can do is make sure we don’t lose what matters along the way.
