Five Years
Looking Back & Looking Ahead
“My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor and some style.”—Maya Angelou
Happy New Year, friends. We made it. Barely, by the skin of our teeth, but we made it.
The theme of 2025 seemed to be change. I started a new job. We sold our old house, moved into a new one. Stressful but exciting changes, happy moments. As the year wound down, more change. Only not the exciting, happy kind.
Due to my family history, I have been undergoing regular MRI screening for breast cancer, and my most recent MRI, when compared to a previous scan, indicated that an area of cells had grown. First, a needle-guided biopsy to retrieve a sample. The results of which were “atypical.” Then, on December 30, a lumpectomy, where they removed the mass and sent it off to pathology to determine whether the cells are precancerous or cancerous.
In between these procedures, I lost someone. Their death was unexpected, even though it had felt, for some time, inevitable. The downward trajectory of their addiction did nothing to prepare me for the sudden and shocking loss, the knowledge that they were not going to get better, even after all they had survived. A hollowing out, an emptiness.
As I grieve this person and await the results of the lumpectomy, I am living in the in-between. Being in the unknown is perhaps worse than knowing. When we know, we can determine what to do next. Now, I don’t know what comes next.
Though I don’t know what comes next, I do know that, no matter the outcome of the results, I will be ok. Whatever they caught they caught early, and I have a care team that treats me like a human being, not just a mass of atypical cells. For this, I am grateful. And yet, I am suspended in a state of disbelief, a kind of surreality. I feel both lucky and supremely unlucky, and I can’t make sense of how some of us survive addiction and others do not, how some of us live our lives healthfully and still get sick, how some of us throw caution to the wind and somehow make it out the other side, and others don’t.
Grief is a slippery thing, sometimes solid and other times paper-thin, survivable at one moment and insurmountable the next. The thought that the one I lost will never see our new home, will never celebrate the mundanities or momentous occasions of life with me, will never read this newsletter and message me afterwards with words of encouragement, as they used to, again. This doesn’t seem possible, but it is. It is true. And it takes my breath away.
I wasn’t sure that I would share these things here; the balance of sharing what is true and what is just for me to carry. A balance I have been tinkering with since I started this newsletter five years ago, which is both an eon and just a blink. The pandemic altered our sense of time, where entire years seemed to disappear and remembering what we had for dinner or watched on Netflix the night before became nearly impossible. We all experienced a tremendous loss, a collective trauma, and yet it is something we don’t collectively talk about, haven’t reckoned with.
Perhaps I started The Find to reckon with, in real time, the collective traumas we experience but don’t often talk about, the collective joys we take for granted or haven’t noticed. It is an exercise in presence even as it catalogs the past.
Five Years
Five years ago I began this practice, but I realized this morning that the seeds of what was to become this newsletter were planted a couple of years before. In 2018 I had just finished reading The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, a workbook for tapping into your creativity, and had committed to writing the prescribed Morning Pages each day, three pages of whatever arises first thing after waking up. Much of what I wrote was not fit for consumption, but that was the point. The unburdening of thoughts and gripes brought me back to the page, to my own voice. The practice cleared the underbrush to make space for curiosity, contemplation, and inquiry. It helped me make sense of the world.
As is often the case, moments of joy and upheaval—the times when we probably need the practice the most—led me away from the daily pages, but I remained committed to the practice of writing The Find, which has led me to unexpected and joyful places. Connecting with people from all over the country, hearing from other writers or creators, and even the small act of sharing content that helps make life just a bit more bearable, all brought me into communication with something bigger than myself, adding layers of meaning and purpose to my life.
Last year I wrote that “the community I’ve found here is an unexpected joy,” and this remains true. Thank you for your support.
Looking Back: Top Posts
Beginning each new year with a review of The Find, looking back through the topics we’ve covered and the responses from readers, has become one of my favorite rituals to start a new year. Here are some of the highlights from 2025:
Most-Read Posts of 2025
Style is Resistance - On the Cowboy Carter tour, the Met Gala, and the firing of Dr. Carla Hayden, the former Librarian of Congress.
Running Commentary - Men bothering me is inextricable from my femaleness, my Blackness. It is in fact because of these identities that I am being bothered, and in the way I am approached.
Stay Human - When every day is a drama in the public sphere, the little things, the everyday things, are anchors.
An Unlikely Friend - Thoughts on the only relationship I have with someone who doesn’t think like me.
Turning Toward Each Other - In times of upheaval and crisis.
Some of My Favorites
The Absence of Substance - When everything means nothing, nothing means everything.
Bookshelf as Aesthetic - The more we adhere to the allure of appearance, the more we look the other way, the less we care when our rights, or the rights of our neighbors, are taken away.
The Wasteland - On social media and its discontents.
Survival Strategies - How we thrive for the next four (now three!) years.
In addition to writing about these topics, I shared my favorite music, movies, and books. In return, you shared your insights, feedback, and testimonials of support.
As I said last year, The Find reminds me to stay curious and open, even when, or especially when, the world feels increasingly scary and awful. You and this community of readers encourage me to keep going.
Looking Ahead: A Survey
Five years since it began, the mission of The Find remains the same: to question the status quo, and to center and celebrate the work of minoritized creators.
And I couldn’t do it without you! Your feedback is always welcome and helpful in continuing forward with this newsletter; please share your thoughts in this year’s The Find Survey. It should take about 5-10 minutes to complete, and the first five respondents will, as always, be entered for the chance to win a cool reusable water bottle.
This labor of love requires hours of research, writing, and curating. It brings me a lot of joy, and it also takes a great amount of time. If you value this newsletter and are in a position to support it, please consider a paid subscription. And if you aren’t (I get it, it’s hard out here), sharing the newsletter is also a much-appreciated way of supporting The Find.
Subscriber Perks
In addition to the biweekly essays and recommendations, paying subscribers receive access to:
The full post archive. Public posts go behind a paywall after six months—if you want to dig back into past editions of the newsletter, a paid subscription is a great way to do so.
Subscriber shoutouts. Send me something cool you’re doing and I’ll share it with the community!
No matter what you choose, I’m happy you’re here.
The Finds
Action. Download the Defend and Recruit workbook to learn how you can protect immigrants in your community (thanks to the FEMINIST newsletter for highlighting this resource).
Listen. “In Another Time” by Sade.
In another time, girl
Your tears won’t leave a trace
In another time, girl
In another place
Watch. The Residence on Netflix. What a delightful whodunit! Starring a flawless Uzo Aduba as birder-detective extraordinaire Cordelia Cupp and featuring an epic ensemble cast, The Residence is a hilarious murder mystery that will keep you guessing until the very end (thanks to Shannon for the rec!).
Read. Blood Moon by Britney S. Lewis. If you found yourself loving the Twilight series but wondering where all the melanated characters were, this juicy YA romantasy is for you! Werewolves, vampires, myths, and first love; what’s not to like?
Thank you for being here. May 2026 offer us what we need.
In solidarity,
Emma
I miss Becks. May you have a long and happy life.