What I learned in 2016 is...

WHAT I LEARNED IN 2016 IS... IS... IS IIIIIIISSSS

Man, what a year, right? It's sucked, a lot. So much. But thinking back, I'm pretty sure I said that at the end of 2014 too, and 2015. Maybe as far back as 2012 and 2013, but I tend to not think about those years too hard. But the point is, was this year any worse, really?

Me thinking about 2016

And like, yeah, kinda. It really sucked. I mean, we lost Bowie, PRINCE, Carrie Fisher, Alan Rickman, Leonard Cohen. George Michael, on Christmas of all days, the day when he is most significant. The day after we lost Carrie Fisher, her mother, Debbie Reynolds passed away. Gene Wilder! For fuck's sake we lost Gene Wilder! Like, how do you continue. And not to mention all the other shit that happened this year, Brexit, Trump, countless shootings, I don't really want to go on, you were there, you know what happened and who we lost.

But I'm not content to just wallow in the filth of this year, I want to pull something from this year, I want to make it better, maybe just for me, but maybe for you too.

WHAT I LEARNED IN 2016 IS:

Carrie Fisher taught me to be proud of my mental illness, and advocate for myself. She taught me that I can still kick ass and kill space slugs while struggling with inner demons. Most importantly she taught me that I can go out on a high note, such as revealing I had sex with Harrison Ford and then blissing out like a champ.

David Bowie taught me there's no right way to be a man, and there is no right way to be proud of my body. He taught me that makeup can still be just as masculine as a beard. He taught me that being beautiful doesn't make my dick any smaller. 

Alan Rickman taught me it's never too late to chase my dreams. Alan Rickman's first film was at age 41! And that was Die Hard as Hans Gruber. How badass is that? To not be in a film until you're 40 and then be one of the most iconic movie villains of all time. It's never to late to start doing what you're passionate about, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

Gene Wilder taught me how important it is to make people laugh. And how strong of a tool comedy could be, Gene Wilder died my first day in Boston, and I resolved myself to make more people laugh, in the absence that he created.

Leonard Cohen taught me that it's okay to be beautiful, poetic, and even sappy, as long as there is sincerity behind it. What has made songs like Hallelujah, Chelsea Hotel No. 2, Anthem, and countless other Cohen songs so immortal is the sincerity behind them, and to have that sincerity in my own life.

Donald Trump taught me that what I do is important. Haha, no, not with anything he's ever said or done. But with the fact that people need to work and stop him. People need to call him out, and fight against him. Speak out. And as a writer, as an actor, as a person with a fucking soul, I can do that.

In 2016, I learned where I am meant to be, the type of people I'm supposed to surround myself with, the things I am meant to be doing, and who I want to be.

2016 wasn't a banner year for me. I hit some of my lowest points, I did some pretty terrible and lousy things, but you know what? You fucking no what? None of this "New Year, New Me" Thing. I want to just be a better me. There are people who love me, so I shouldn't become a new person and risk losing them, what I need to do is become a better me, to thank them for being loyal and standing by my side. For being with me, I should be better, not just for them, but for me. Because I have to live with me, and I plan on living with me for a long ass time.

I want to better myself, in honor of those we lost, for the people who love and stand by me, and most importantly, for myself. I think I've said that a lot on the 80 something posts I've made on this blog, and I mean it every damn time. Just know that I am always working to better myself. I am always trying to be a better me and make better choices. 2016 may not showcase that perfectly, but know if I hurt you this year, I am deeply sorry. I am, and I will do anything I can to make that better in 2017. 

My New Year's Resolution is just to be a better dude. Be someone that would be missed if I suddenly and tragically perished in 2017. I want to do justice to all my friends and family, who love me, even though I am a problematic mess, know that I am your problematic mess. 

I learned this year that I'm allowed to be a work in progress, I learned that I don't have to be perfect, but I can try and be better. I'm only 18, I'm not meant to be a complete human being yet, and the best thing I can do for myself is to love myself and to keep trying to be better, and to forgive myself.

I am lucky enough to have so many strong and supportive role models in my day to day life. Good men who are caring and loving and strong. And powerful women, who teach me to love myself and others. I am lucky to love and be loved back. And I will continue to do so until the day I die. 

Thank you for reading, everyone. It means so much, everytime.

Happy New Year.

Love,

Bailey S. Fox

Die Snake, Die

When I was a boy, I remember going looking for snakes and other reptiles with my father. My father is a man who vastly enjoys finding and protecting reptiles and amphibians. I was never the enthusiast, I've always been more of an indoors kid anyway, but there was something always deeply unsettling to me about snakes. And this discomfort would well up every time I was around them.

But I wasn't afraid.

I couldn't be afraid. 

How could I be afraid of something my father so clearly loved?

 So I would hold the snakes and I would search for the snakes. The hunt for the snakes continued, even with my apprehension.

Now I could never tell my dad that I was uncomfortable, he loved snakes. I didn't want to dissapoint him. And I wanted to love snakes too, even though every time I saw one I suddenly became deeply uncomfortable. And I was a scared kid, heights, new food, breaking rules, other people, girls, boys, being late, being wrong. But not of snakes, no, never of snakes.

As I grew up two things happened, I got over a lot of my fears: I rode zip lines high above the ground, ate new foods, broke countless rules, met new people, dated girls, kissed boys, I became a very late person, I spend a lot of my time being wrong, I stopped being so afraid. The second thing that happened, was I saw way less snakes.

I still was afraid of things, needles, spiders, death, but everyone has phobias.

But not as many as before. And I wasn't was not in no way afraid of snakes.

As I grew older I would find my own interests, new interests, and not accompany my father on his snake hunts.

Do you ever go a long time without really thinking about things? 

For instance, as a writer who lives in Boston, snakes aren't a big priority on my mind. And so it was a really long time before I ever thought about snakes. I would think about grades, I would think about boys, and girls, I would think about rock music, I would think about how Michael Bublé is just the straight man's Rufus Wainright. I would think about new stories, but not snakes, and I didn't have to, again, I live in a city. The closest thing I see to a snake is a rat's tail when I'm on the train too late at night. So snakes never grazed my mind, and I never had to think about my totally-non-existent-fear-of snakes-that-I-was-in-no-way-afraid-of.

But one day we had to give presentations in my speech class, and a girl Ana gave a speech on why snakes shouldn't be killed as much as they are and feared as much as they are.

And I began to panic, and feel fear.

Holy shit: I'm afraid of snakes.

I've spent my whole life ignoring the fact that I am fucking terrified of snakes. 

And it's not my dad's fault, I just wanted to impress him, but holy shit snakes make me so afraid and uncomfortable.

And I know what you're thinking. "No shit Bailey, you're afraid of snakes. Why am I reading this?"

But hold with me, I promise there is a point here.

And it fucked with me, it rattled me (pun intended) because I have been able to repress for so long that the idea that snakes terrify me out of sheer stubbornness, and how long we're able to lie to ourselves and put off self-confrontation. And it also shook me that I felt so ashamed suddenly that I was afraid of snakes. I'd watch my younger siblings go after them with such zeal and I'd always move too slow to catch them. I'd always be caught off guard, I'd always jump- just a little. But I'd never admit I was afraid. 

Now repression is nothing new to this blog, I talked about it last year with my David Bowie post and the tale of losing my virginity. But this isn't trauma, this is just me lying to myself for so many years, and for what point? Did I feel that this is where I needed to be manly? Is this what I needed to be masculine about? Why? I've never been the most masculine of people, so why is it that I still felt the need to be masculine then? Why did I feel the need at that moment to be false and strong?

Masculinity, specifically toxic masculinity has been something I've railed against for such a long time. This idea that men can't and aren't allowed to express emotions without being labeled as weak or wimpy has been such a disgusting idea to me for so long. And there are so many things that "men aren't allowed to do" It's so weird to people that I want to learn to knit, or I think there are better songs for women in musical theater for women. I like Ke$ha and Taylor Swift, I cry, a lot. I love clothes shopping, I like talking about how I feel. I think that traditional men's clothing should be more interesting like women's clothing. As a cis-male I have three choices in underwear style. I couldn't even name all of the cis-female underwear styles. I love Gilmore Girls and rom-coms. 

But I'm still sometimes trapped in this box of not being able to self-express. Even with all my fucking forward thinking and free will I still get caught up in toxic masculinity. I'm at times really afraid to tell people how I feel, or be vulnerable. Sometimes I'm afraid to be affectionate.

For instance I have a friend who I kinda had a falling out with, who I really want to reconnect with, but I'm so afraid of the vulnerability in asking to talk again and hanging out, that I still haven't done it. I have hard times telling my parents things (like the fact I have a new girlfriend, surprise!) And I shouldn't, I don't want to live trapped by this fear of expression and vulnerability. 

The fist time the idea of being a feminist was introduced to me was when I was a junior in high school, and I realized that it was something for me too. Being a feminist not only meant fighting for women's equality, but also against toxic masculinity. It meant I don't have to fit into any sort of strict category to be considered a "man." And that was a really important lesson to me.

Being in Boston made me a little freer from that fear, because people are so expressive and accepting and varied there. It's not like back in Newfield where I was called "faggot" for the one time I talked about liking "Love Actually." And that's not even a super feminine thing! Love Actually is just a really good movie. And I liked penis long before I saw that movie. But I digress, I'm freer in Boston than I was at home, but I'm still not totally free. I still struggle with the things I've been taught in society.

I struggle with opening up at times, and talking about my feelings when there are consequences to how I feel. For instance, in class we could be looking at a picture of a man and I could go, "That man is hot!" But if I sat next to a man I found attractive I'd have a much harder time telling him. When you add stakes to feelings, then I'm shit out of luck. I don't want to be like that anymore. If I can ride ziplines nearly a mile long or cliff dive or risk my life with little worry, I should be able to tell people how I feel. And I'll start now:

 Dad, I'm afraid of snakes. I always have been, I'm sorry

I guess what I'm saying is that the expectations of others, be it my father expecting me to be okay with snakes, or society expecting men to be tough and emotionless, is a toxic cycle. If the snake represents the idea of masculinity in this drawn out metaphor, then sorry Ana, and I'm sorry dad, but I say:

Die snake, Die.

<3

Love,

Bailey S. Fox

(In no way do I endorse the actual killing of real snakes)