I've lost count of my crying. But I found the women who taught me to get back up

I can't count how many times I've cried in a day.

I thought 2026 was truly going to be my year. Turning 40, doing well at my job, living in a fabulous apartment. Dating, admittedly, was still a bit rough. But the last experience was a reminder of what I wanted versus what I hoped for. And then, just like that, my life felt like it had gone upside down. Well, not entirely upside down. The occasional up and down, but also the shifts from left to right. Feeling one moment I've landed solidly on my feet, only to realize it's a muddy puddle. Even when there are those glimmers of hope, there are moments I've done nothing else but curl up on my couch, eat, and occasionally cry while watching romcoms.

I'm truly thankful for Netflix during this period of readjustment.

The last time I felt like the world around me was crumbling was in 2013. Like at the start of this year, I felt like I was on top of the world. Nearly done with grad school and finally received a coveted fellowship. A group of friends who meant the world to me. Then came my grandmother's unexpected death. There's a special bond that comes with being the eldest grandchild of immigrant grandparents; it's like they pour all their hopes and dreams into you. Her death was followed not long after by the death of Bernadine, my witty and lovable trans auntie, and my rescue dog, Dash, struck by a car as he ran back to the house.

By November of that year, I felt like I was made of stone. I poured myself further into my studies to prevent a breakdown in, say, the middle of a classroom. Gradually, however, the stoic outer presence gave way, and I needed an outlet to pour my heart out and reclaim my inner peace.

One night, as I watched another Netflix romcom (The Perfect Find with Gabrielle Union, highly recommend!), I reflected on the distant and recent past. I truly believed this year would feel like a coronation, but at many points it felt like a trap door. It's been a rough one, POLISHed Ones. And I know I'm not the only one out there; Black professionals continue to face unprecedented levels of unemployment compared to our White counterparts. Not including the rising number of trans folks who continue to face additional barriers when it comes to employment, housing, medicine, and more. And it feels like it's only getting worse under the second Trump administration. Yet, still, so many of us find — no, create — room for joy. Building our own brands, enriching our circles, and setting much-needed boundaries for others and ourselves.

And then, I was reminded of the blueprints I had watched or listened to in my life but hadn't yet fully digested. My grandmother, who traded in her comfortable lifestyle for menial work when she came to this country, yet still found a way to hold her head up high. My trans aunt, long before the "tipping point" for trans rights, refused to break when society was far from fair in giving way to a Black trans woman who relished in her joyful and authentic life. My mother, who never gave up when life handed her crumbs, reinvented and pivoted when forced to. They each dealt with chaos in their lives, sometimes right before my eyes; other times, hidden and yet surviving through it all. My tears of sorrow gave way to tears of admiration. Of determination. Emotional tribute at the feet of the women who got up and tried again when the world nearly brought them to wallow perpetually in the dust.

And then, an epiphany: what if chaos isn't meant to break us down? What if, in fact, chaos is the universe's way of building us up?

Three romcoms and a dinner later, I once again looked back at 2013. A year that felt like the world was crashing in like waves of a storm. But I forgot what happened in the successive years. I found peace and solace through drag, which directly paved the way for my professional career. The exhilaration and freedom I relished onstage allowed me not to be afraid to come back out of the proverbial closet as a trans woman. The chaotic storm of 2013 gave way to the calm waters of 2014, with the ripple effect reaching all the way to 2026.

The chaos I've experienced these past few months has planted seeds that wouldn't otherwise have been sown. I certainly wouldn't be writing for, let alone founding, POLISH in February if I hadn’t been laid off from Out. Bruises from the assault in April, a month after my facial feminization, continue to heal. My 40th birthday in May flopped harder than the Great American State Fair, from folks dropping like flies 48 hours before a planned dinner to a "friend" raffling off my birthday gift to her followers. And yet, by July, I realized it was a reminder that not everyone in your circle is rooting for your triumphs. There are some who are only interested in seeing your tribulations.

Chaos isn't just a moment when the world feels like it's caving in. For all intents and purposes, chaos is a catalyst for change and growth. Yes, there'll remain fears and doubt until my feet feel like they're on firm ground. And, yes, there'll probably be other moments when I break down and cry, curled up on my couch. But, if you're in a similar phase of not knowing the unknown, give yourself the space and grace to cry it out.

Just remember, the tears of today will water the seeds that will blossom and decorate the next phase of your life's path. 

POLISH with Marie-Adélina is where Executive Editor Marie-Adélina de la Ferrière thinks out loud — on the stories we cover, the culture we're in, and what it means to build something like this. Have thoughts? So do we. Reach us at hello@polish.media. Views expressed in POLISH with Marie-Adélina are the Executive Editor's own and do not represent the positions of POLISH Magazine, its Board, or POLISH Media, Inc.