Thread by @AlinaIsYou

Eight months away from Twitter has taught me the benefit of silent self reflection. It prevented me from shooting my mouth off about things I didn't understand. And it protected others and myself from the hurtful rage that comes from my tweeting reflexively rather than carefully.

I can't tell anyone what to feel, because feelings are down to the individual. And I certainly can't tell anyone what to do because I'd be a hypocrite considering the reams of thoughtless harm I've done on this platform over the years. But let me say this:

Questions of whether or not the left is eating itself or discussions of whether or not strangers deserve "canceling" often dehumanize in all directions. Is someone acting because of past trauma or are they going on attack "for the clout"? Both? Neither? I don't presume to know.

What I believe is this: I am a human being. Lindsay, whose friendship I found through this platform, is a human being. You are a human being. And I believe each and every one of us deserves the grace of a moment of quiet reflection before we comment or are commented upon.

I can't tell you what to do. But I can ask you to take a breath, take a beat, and live with whatever it is you're feeling about Lindsay's words before publicly reacting to them. And I can ask us all to please practice that restraint with most people and situations, too

I know every one of us can think of times when we wish others had granted us a moment of grace, online or off, and didn't. And rather than continuing that cycle what I'm asking is that each of us consider pausing and granting that grace which we were denied along the way.

Over a decade ago, I saw a video about Labyrinth and tangentially about running jokes and David Bowie's *ahem* package. It made me smile. I made it my business to get to know the person who made me smile that day and I don't regret that for a moment.

Lindsay, her words, her wisdom, and her ability to cut through and make me think in ways I hadn't before are things I'll always treasure. Mostly I'm just grateful we've gotten to be imperfect weirdos laughing together. It grieves me in ways I can't express to see her in pain.

Pain when it comes from within the confines of what we believe, foolishly or not, to be our own community, is devastating. That's why I'm choosing not to vent frustration or anger at the people who are frustrated or angry with Lindsay and reacting to those feelings now.

Instead I'm offering you this moment of grace, because it's the one good thing I believe I can give in this moment. It's what I gave myself eight months ago so I could begin to be better. It's what I can give to Lindsay as she figures out what and who she wants to be next.

I sincerely know how hard it is to trust anyone, including oneself. But I'm asking you to trust me, to trust Lindsay, and to trust yourselves just long enough to let this moment breathe and pass. Like a turd in the wind. Sorry, I had to! Can't be serious all the time!

Anyway. I love you Lindsay. I have love for everyone I met through you, even those who I'm not on the best of terms with anymore. And I hope we can all heal and find a hand to hold as we transition to whatever comes next. Be well.