The Newsletter Thingy
The Sybarite Newsletter: The Power of Snails and Fifteen Minute Cities
Just when I’ve lost faith in humanity, along comes reminders that life is rich with anchors to what’s real.
I’m a centrist. I didn’t vote for Donald Trump but I understand why others did. I’ve spent time interrogating myself about my own liberal beliefs, and for years have described myself as politically homeless (like so many of us). I’m a heterodox thinker, someone who considers each issue separately, as opposed to simply falling into lockstep with a party or online tribe. I even had an affair with an extreme right wing dude, whom I call MAGA Man. (And by “affair” I mean wild fling; no one was married).
So it came as a surprise to me over the last three weeks that I’ve lost three friends over the election results. Me, the centrist, lost friends. Me, the one who Trump supporters tend to like and who say things like “at least you don’t scream at me.” And before my Trump readers assume that it was all people on the left who dumped me, here’s the math: it was two Trump supporters and one Kamala supporter who torched our friendships.
MAGA Man is mad at me because after the 2024 results showing that Trump won the popular vote, I wouldn’t “at least agree” that there was “some evidence” that the 2020 election had been rigged. I refused to do this because it wasn’t rigged. I ended our heated text exchange by writing “Because I cannot! Do you want me to lie to you?” I haven’t heard from him since.
Then there was my friend A. She uses a medical intuitive instead of doctors, is rabidly anti vax, and is so attached to gender roles that she thinks men should pay for her in all circumstances no matter who the man is or what the circumstances are. She asked me whom I voted for, and when I told her she went full Mean Girl, taunting me. Apparently, “triggering the libs” is truly a fun game for this crowd.
Frustrated that this didn’t work on me — because I don’t care that much — she escalated. She proclaimed that the entire federal government was corrupt and didn’t care about Americans. I, as a federal employee in my real life, explained this would be wildly offensive, but it wasn’t because she had no idea what she was talking about. The next day she continued, sending me “citizen journalist” accounts from Instagram. I wrote back that my mother has a journalism degree from the University of Missouri and I was gonna stick to actual journalism, thank you very much. Then she doubled down on how bad the federal government is, writing, “I just don’t trust federal agencies. For instance I don’t trust the American Dental Association.” (emphasis mine).
I had a lot of fun informing her that the American Dental Association is just a bunch of dentists not a federal agency. Like MAGA Man, I haven’t heard from her since. (I do think that these two should meet, and I’ve brought this up to both of them. They’ve both declined, which mystifies me).
The third friend is a former history professor who texted me for 45 minutes straight last week calling me a Nazi and asking me if I was going to make “the trains run on time,” because I had no plans to quit my day job. I tried to explain that federal agencies implement law that is created by all three branches of government (statutes by the legislative branch, case law by the judiciary, and regulations by the executive branch) but he wouldn’t let up. I finally recognized the text storm for what it was: abuse. I told him to lose my number and that was that.
I’m still marveling at these latest developments, because again, I’m the centrist here, although it does illuminate how we’ve truly lost the people on the fringe. I don’t think we’re getting them back. I don’t think that someone who thinks that the American Dental Association is a federal agency can be saved, just like I don’t think that someone like MAGA Man who is accustomed to existing in a permanent state of grievance can be saved.
I’d like to report that I care about the loss of these three people, but I sort of don’t? Culling the herd, at least for someone like me who gets overwhelmed by too much stimulation, is often a relief. Having conversations with people who are in lockstep with one group or another is truly exhausting. This is — don’t laugh at this transition — why I believe in the power of beauty writing and recipes and travelogues: we can all find common ground in these spaces. And if you show up to find common ground in these spaces it means that you can be saved, or might never need to be saved in the first place, because you are anchored to reality. If you ground yourself in the pursuit of better skin or healthier cities, rather than being perpetually online, your brain really doesn’t have room to swoon over the oligarchs or have Trump Derangement Syndrome.
With that in mind, please give Elle Silver’s story about rubbing snail slime all over her face in the pursuit of “glass skin” a read. If this isn’t anchored in the elements — mollusks, slime, gardens, dirt, skin, vanity (in the best way) — I don’t know what is? As someone who wants to have a skincare and beauty routine, but just doesn’t because I find it hard to get out of bed, I’m so excited for Elle to continue to write beauty content for Sybarite. I’d rather worship at the alter of beauty and skincare than any political movement.
And speaking of being anchored in reality, I’m really excited to share Rocco Pendola’s story about his imminent escape to a 15-minute city. I won’t spoil the read by explaining what a 15-minute city is, but I will say that if you’ve ever wondered whether your happiness comes from your home or your city, this story is for you.
As always, Sybarite — your reliable anti-self help publication — is looking for new writers. I’m too tired to explain the submission guidelines again, other than to say that if you do want to submit, send a draft to adeline.dimond@gmail.com and we’ll go from there.
Stay grounded, Sybarites.
Your Sybarite-in-Chief,
Adeline D.
