Sometimes it makes you feel like this monkey. (Via Gratisography)

“Done is better than perfect” is the hottest mantra in creativity and marketing right now. But what happens when your “done”… kinda sucks?

First, let me say: I agree with this “just get it out there” strategy wholeheartedly. Dedicating yourself to producing new content consistently is the absolute best way to attract new peeps to your universe, learn what your passions are, and find your voice. It also helps you climb out of the “IF IT’S NOT FLAWLESS IT’S NOT WORTH IT” wormhole.

But every great strategy comes with some less-great drawbacks attached.

Because when you’re creating, sharing, and working through new ideas constantly… you’re bound to produce a few duds.

Hey, it happens. It happens to me, it happens to your favorite authors, bloggers, and comedians, it happens to your next door neighbor who totally finished NaNoWriMo this year.

That’s just the reality of being a maker building up your portfolio.

When “good enough” is your standard, you are inevitably going to create something you’re not totally happy with (if you haven’t already). It might be something you hate a little bit, or a concept that’s full of holes when you read it over, or something that sparks an outright negative reaction from your audience.

And then, the feeling kicks in. The dreaded, unpleasant, sticks-to-your-gut-like-glue feeling of… creative shame.

The worst part about creative shame around something you’ve already put into the world?

Other people can see it. Ahh!

That alone might scare you enough to kill your momentum, and make you wonder:

Man, I suck. How do I hate this even more after re-reading it?!

Dang, that was a mean comment. Should I just get rid of the post?

You know what, I think I’ll dele — Fuck. How did someone already retweet it? It’s been up for like 30 seconds!

Still, intellectually, you know failure happens.

You’ve probably read a “famous flops” article or 20 in your day. I know I have.

However, while those stories always end in some inspiring act of redemption, they don’t generally offer a strategy for dealing with that uncomfortable, tight feeling in your chest when you think about your latest flop. They don’t absolve you of the guilt that you dared to put something into the world that wasn’t quite good enough.

Those posts can’t promise you that you’ll get your own redemption, either.

So let’s talk about what happens in that gap — while the embarrassment is fresh, sharp, and grimy, and you’re trying to figure out what to do next.

Story time!

My first encounter with creative shame happened at 16.

I “started” my writing career by penning and editing fanfiction — a.k.a. fics — in my teens. (Go ahead and crack your jokes. I’ll wait.)

I’d had some solid success with a previous fic, so I decided to switch it up and capitalize on the third wave of Star Wars fandom by writing a short romance (you’re allowed to roll your eyes here).

You see where this is going, right?

16 year old writing a romance? Terrible.

16 year old writing a romance in the Star Wars universe? God help us all.

About 48 hours after posting I received a string of comment notifications. Excited, I clicked.

The first comment read:

“You know your fic is bad when it gets posted to godawfulfanfiction.net, but this was truly terrible. Maybe one of the worst I’ve read ever…”

The rest of the comments agreed with the poster, and largely focused on making fun me, telling me I should leave the site forever, or linking to where my fic had been re-posted on godawfulfanfiction.

My heart sank. My cheeks flushed. My palms began to sweat.

Was it really that bad?

I read it again, through my new, critic-beaten lens.

Oh god. Yep. They have a point.

Still, I wish this was the part where I stood up for myself (why are people expecting the pinnacle of literary prose on a fanfiction site anyway?!), or found a way to re-write the piece, or that all of those mean commenters came back and apologized.

But none of that happened. Instead, red-faced and teary-eyed with shame alone in my bedroom, I deleted the story as quickly as I could.

For years, I told no one.

Eventually, however, this became my go-to tale for any creative afraid of bad feedback.

The fortunate thing about being brutalized by faceless internet critics? After it’s happened, you find a way to wear it proudly.

(Of course, this wasn’t the last time my work would receive harsh feedback. But you never forget your first.)

I recently relayed this story to a friend working anxiously on her first-draft manuscript. Once she’d finished shrieking with laughter, she made a sympathetic noise, and asked:

“But how did you keep writing after that!? Those comments would make me curl up into a ball and never write a word again.”

Looking back, I think it came down to this:

I was embarrassed to my core. Sure, those people were unnecessarily mean, but I’d been caught red-handed submitting sub-par work. I knew I’d cringe every time I thought about it for years to come.

But, with a gulp, I realized the bad feelings and shame would all pass with enough time.

I loved to write. And it was either stop because the internet made me feel bad, or keep going and hopefully create enough good work that I could put this humiliation behind me.

So, a little more nervous, and a little more self-critical, I bowed my humbled head, and I quietly continued on.

Since then, I’m proud to say I have created some good stuff, right alongside numerous other cringe-worthy, meaningless, self-congratulatory works, both shared and hidden away.

After all, over a decade of writing publicly is plenty of time to produce some seriously crappy stuff.

Because that’s the reality: When you’re habitually creating and sharing your work, you can’t hit a home run with every swing.

Someday, you’re going to write something, or create something, and it’s going to suck. And you’ll try to pretend it doesn’t, but you can’t avoid it forever. Then, you’re going to feel bad. And you’re going to question everything.

And you know what? That’s alright.

Creative shame, in all its cringe-y, uncomfortable glory, is OK, because it’s part of the process.

Just like failure, just like rejection, creative shame is a tool. It taps you back into where you really are with your creative work; where your bad habits are, where you’ve gotten lazy, or where you hit ‘Publish’ because you just wanted to put something out there.

So: what should you do when it happens to you?

How should you recover when the creative shame monster starts to whisper in your ear that you’re not good enough, you’re a fraud who’s been found out, and you should just give up already?

Here are a few ideas:

1. Take stock of what went wrong.

In the immortal words of my dad, “If you make mistakes, you’re learning. If you repeat them, well then you’re just doing a bad job.”

Chances are, you already know exactly where and why you veered off course. The thing that went wrong in a piece you’re embarrassed about probably isn’t a new symptom. It’s probably a quirk or habit you know about, but have been ignoring, or not devoting enough time to working on.

So face it. Revisit it. And put more energy into the solution.

2. Remember that this will pass in time.

Creative shame feels like absolute shit.

It makes you sad, it makes you angry with yourself, and it’s one of those memories that might jerk you awake riiiight before you fall asleep at night.

But that’s just part of being alive. That’s part of making stuff for the world. And eventually, as your consistently solid body of work grows, you’ll forget that puff piece, the attempts at insight that came out wrong, the clumsiness, the rushed concepts, and the screw ups.

Sure, you can freeze up, let the shame take you over, and give up completely.

But is that really the way you want to go out?

3. Tell yourself as many times as you need to: “This happens to everyone — even people I respect most.”

Show me a creative who’s made it through their entire career without having to swallow some bitter criticism pills, or squirmed over a piece they hated, and I’ll show you someone who’s never taken risks, who’s never tried to grow, and who’s so caught up in not being embarrassed or wrong, they’ve paralyzed themselves.

They’re also probably pretty boring.

The opposite of creative shame is creative courage. And you can’t have one without the other.

You can’t heal the shame without courage.

And you can’t find prove your courage without shame to test you.

So as you go along, as you create and produce, just know that every day, millions of people around the world are on the same journey you are.

Shame will stop some of them. It will make them give up. It will cause them to melt away.

But that doesn’t have to be your story.

Because if you want to build yourself up for success? You have to build yourself up to absorb blows too.

When a critique resonates, use it.

When you’re frustrated, listen closely to yourself (but not so closely that you freeze up — remember you’re your own worst critic, not your best, or even most knowledgeable).

And when someone’s judging you for the sake of it like a asshole, feel free to tell them where they can shove it.

So keep moving. Keep your gloves up. And when creative shame comes to find you, let it in, then let it pass.

It’s all part of the process and the purpose.

Stay tough, and stay focused. I’ll be cheering you on from the sidelines.

Photo by Juliet Warren. Whiskey by Maker’s Mark.

So let’s get it out of the way: 2016 sucked a fair bit for most people.

But you know what? Fuck it.

We’ve gotta learn to deal somehow. Shit happens, has happened, and will continue to happen.

We’ll always have ups and downs and side to sides in this life. We win friends and lose them. Our heroes guide us, only to age and pass away too soon. Our political views sometimes get upheld, until election cycles put leaders we relate to significantly less (#understatement) in power.

That’s why, even as we bid a middle finger farewell to 2016, a year many of us will be glad to see the back of — hunting through the shadows for little jewels of light can only serve us.

Some pretty solid things doubtlessly happened to you this year, just perhaps on the smaller scale. So I challenge you to find ’em, share ’em, and share ’em loud.

Because the brighter we leave 2016, the brighter we can start this new year, and gear ourselves up to bring our massive, unmistakable supernova-like light to the world.

So, in the name of sanity, and being a human ready to explode into 2017 — I did some digging into the good that happened for me this year.

Here’s what I found.

(WARNING: PRESENTED IN LOUD, ALL-CAPS FASHION.)

6 THINGS THAT ROCKED MY FACE IN 2016:

1) I WROTE MY ASS OFF

I’m proud to shout from the rooftops that I wrote more this year than in my past 5 years of business combined.

This was largely thanks to the kind folks at Crew.co who let me jam on their blog (shoutout to Jory, best editor on the planet), and the peeps at Business Insider, The Next Web, The New York Observer, Quartz, and more who scooped up my pieces to spread the good word.

Writing so much was an unprecedented chance to challenge myself with topics around which I had a lot of vague philosophies, but not a ton of concrete ideas. That’s the ultimate challenge for any writer; finding ways to dig under the answers that seem obvious to you for your own reasoning.

The 5 I’m proudest of are:

How to Never Run Out of Things to Write About Ever: This was the fastest piece I wrote this year, but also one of the most impactful. Turns out, writing that gets your engine running doesn’t start when you get that first line onto a blank doc. It starts with the right questions.

Don’t Write Words, Write Music: By far one of my most challenging pieces of the year, this baby got written, rewritten, and re-edited probably close to 10 times. But the end result is something that makes my chest particularly puffed up; especially when it comes to identifying my own style.

Are you the Icing or the Cake: The Art of Becoming Indispensable: I got fired by a client and wrote a blog post about what I’d learned. The reaction was unexpectedly massive. I still have a theory most of the people who clicked just really like cake, though.

Content is King, and Other Reasons Why You Shouldn’t Write Online: Come for the annoyed pug in the blanket photo, stay for an extensive rant about how everyone sounds the same on the internet.

Vertigo: What to do When You Wanna F — ing Quit: This was the year I embraced brutal honesty with my writing, and I penned this quick love note to anyone in the creative sphere in the darkest throes of the battle we all fight, day in, day out.

Reminder: Just keep your gloves raised. You got this.

2) I GOT A CROCKPOT/SLOW COOKER AND DAMN GUYS THIS THING IS THE SHIT

While I’m not sure of the exact date of purchase (it may have been 2015 *cough*), I got into my slow cooker jam this year.

I made eeeverything in there y’all — from soups that warm the soul, to brisket that’s so damn moist it falls apart if you breathe on it just right, to clean eating recipes that actually taste delightful.

Work from home folks: if you don’t have one yet, this thing is a game changer.

I think everyone has 20 minutes in their day to chop some veggies, toss some meat in, and hit the “on” switch. Then a few hours later? BOOM. Your house is full of “Holy shit what is that?!” delicious dinner smells, and you’re ready to eat.

If you’ve got a slow cooker and you haven’t tried it yet? Here’s my recipe pinboard. YOU’RE WELCOME.

3) HOT DAMN IT WAS AN AMAZING YEAR FOR MUSIC I MEAN REALLY

#1 song: Kanye West’s Ultralight Beam

#2 song: Beck’s WOW

Albums I listened to mercilessly:

Kanye West: The Life of Pablo

Bon Iver: 22, a Million

Roosevelt: Roosevelt

Rufus Du Sol: Bloom

… Of course there are a ton more. You can check out my most listened to tracks on Spotify, or you can stop by my Hype Machine to check out more.

Best live shows: Tame Impala, Roosevelt, Har Mar Superstar.

4) I TAUGHT PEOPLE FOR THE FIRST TIME AND IT WAS SURPRISINGLY FUCKING AWESOME

If you’ve ever spent any time around me in a professional setting you’ll know I hesitated to teach for years. I’m always frightened that it’ll be revealed I don’t actually know enough, or have enough to offer, and my entire life and career will come crashing down over my head.

But this year I made it a point to try and crawl out of my shell. I did a fair number of video interviews and hot seats (some of which are launching next year), and most importantly, I had the chance to teach people live and in person, which was a first for me.

I’ll admit: I was terrified. My whole body was sweating underneath my extremely strategically-worn blazer; especially my palms, which were crushing the 10 pages of notes — THAT I DIDN’T END UP USING BY THE WAY — into a napkin like texture.

But you know what? I did it. And the hot seat questions that were being fired my way were so much fun, the whole audience worked through lunch to keep going.

5) I GOT TO SPEND CHILL TIME WITH CLIENTS AND TEAMS I’VE BEEN WORKING WITH FOR YEARS

The weirdest thing about remote work is how little time you actually spend in the same room as the people who pay your bills. But this year I got to spend some real time with the clients and crews who’ve completely changed my life.

Turns out we get along as well in person as we do on the phone, Slack, and Google Hangout. Who knew?

6) I MADE A WHOLE BUNCH OF NEW INTERNET FRIENDS (PROBABLY YOURSELF INCLUDED) WHO ARE A FUCKING VISION TO BEHOLD

The more I write, and the more I expose my Godzilla of a personality to the internet word, the more incredible people I’ve had the opportunity to meet, collaborate with, and love on.

And I have to say: it’s surprised me. I always imagined the internet, and the influencers on it, to have their ranks tightly closed off.

Surprise: I was completely wrong.

As creatives and entrepreneurs, it’s so important that we don’t just find ourselves sitting at the tops of our own perceived towers all alone. We have to keep our eyes up and on who’s ahead of us, and who’s doing things differently. This is not to imitate them or find ourselves feeling small; but to stay inspired, and ready for what’s next.

There always has to be another target, another idea to work through, a new angle. Get and stay inspired by watching the people who are doing it right, just a few steps ahead of you.

I also invested in some seriously killer group coaching this year — shoutout to Erika Lyremark and the Mark’d Mastery Crew!

SO, 2016. YOU WEREN’T THE BEST. BUT WHAT GOOD IS THERE IN CONTINUING TO CALL YOU THE WORST?

I won’t miss you when you’re gone — but for all the bullshit, challenges, and tragedies, you offered up some blessings too.

I moved into an awesome new apartment with my partner. I continued to build a business I’m proud of. I got to share ideas with people across the globe. Stranger Things hit Netflix. Westworld hit HBO.

And for that, I’m grateful. And that won’t stop with the year’s end either.

Goodbye forever 2016, and don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.

Who knows what’s ahead, but symbolically your exit can offer at least a brief heartbeat of positivity in the world. I can roll with that.

And 2017? I see you just around the corner.

And I’m ready.

Photo by Jeff Weller.

I’ve been starting posts with “fun facts” lately, so here’s another: I’m incredibly difficult to photograph.

While my wonderful photographer friends (shout out to Jeff and Juliet) would never say it to my face, and the adage “No one likes their own photos!” is fairly universal, I know the above is true for a few reasons:

1) I have an alarmingly expressive face and large, deep, and long dimples. Seriously — I have absolutely no poker face, and I’m a terrible liar because of these damn parentheses carved out of my cheeks. When I smile, my face goes from long-with-high-cheekbones to overly-excited-moon in a matter of milliseconds. Seriously, I’ve had multiple friends tell me I don’t resemble myself in some of my pictures. I dunno whether this would make me a great spy or something, but I hope to find a use for that, uh, talent one day.

2) I feel intensely awkward in front of a camera, despite the fact I love the end results of my shoots. You might not know it looking at my photos, but for every 1 fantastic shot on my site or social media, there are roughly 800 of me cross-eyed, derp-faced, or slouching.

3) I end up cracking loud jokes to put myself at ease. So that means there are a ton of straight-to-the-trashcan images of me with an extra-elongated face forming “o” sounds, half-laughing, or clearly struggling over consonants.

Which brings us to why I wrote this guide:

If you’re a goofy-faced, joke-making, oh-god-am-I-doing-this-right photoshoot strugglebus rider like me, I think I might (finally) be able to help you.

Photos are challenging — and a yuuuuge element of your personal brand if you have one — so I understand the pressure you might be putting on yourself. I put it on myself, too.

You want to look professional. You want to look cool. You want to stand out. And at the same time, you want it to feel like you.

That’s one hell of a balance beam to be walking on, emotionally and mentally.

I’ve been doing roughly 1–2 shoots/year for 5 years now, and I still get nervous every time my over-stuffed makeup bag, pile of wardrobe options, and I arrive on location. It really makes me look back at all those America’s Next Top Model reruns and think, “Damn. Some people get all the talent.”

But don’t despair, my fellow awkwards: If I can do it, so can you.

So here are a few tried-n’-true tips to make you feel at ease the next time you step in front of the lens.

Tip 1: Work with people you trust.

I’m spoiled, because I’ve never worked with a photographer I haven’t known for years. But that’s also intentional.

The awesome humans who do my photos know me very well. They know my voice is loud, and my forehead and eyes can get powerfully line-y, and they’ll tell me when I’m doing that weird thing with my fingers. They don’t hesitate to say “Hill. Chill.”

But if you don’t know your photographer, that’s OK too. To calm your mind, see if you can hop on the phone with them for a chat, or send an email before you work together outlining any concerns you might have.

Do this whether it’s your first time, or you’re a veteran, because it’ll make you feel infinitely better when you’ve told your photographer what to look for, what to avoid, and why.

Tip 2: Plan ahead. Purpose builds confidence.

Fact: It’s a bad idea to walk into high-stakes situation like a photoshoot with no idea of what to do.

So take some time to figure out what you want, and don’t want. What’s going to make you different? What do you want to avoid? Are there any cliché poses, or locations that make you roll your eyes? What do you want to capture about yourself?

For this, I recommend starting with a “Photoshoot Inspiration” board on Pinterest to try and nail down your aesthetic. I have one you can check out right here.

Inspiration matters, because being clear on your vibe helps you get in the right headspace for the big day.

When I did my photoshoot for my website, I sent my photographer Jeff a pile of Terry Richardson and Juergen Teller inspiration, and a ~10 page creative brief about my goals for the shoot.

Was I over-prepared? Definitely. Was it annoying? Probably.

But I didn’t want another stereotypical “personal brand” website, full of stock images of me barefoot on a couch drinking coffee while laughing at nothing in the distance, or sitting on a city curb for no apparent reason, or pretending to be on the phone.

(No hate on people who do this, by the way. There are industries in which that’s a necessary norm.)

If you are a personal brand, remember photos aren’t necessarily supposed to make the viewer feel like you’ve checked off all the boxes of what entrepreneurship “should” look like (i.e. you, barefoot, on a couch). They’re supposed to convey a sense of who you really are. They should feel natural to you.

So I stripped away all those “make me approachable” tropes in favor of things that felt more me — like striking a power stance in high heels on a rooftop, or looking dead-on into the camera with an eyebrow raised, or making silly faces. Because that’s who I am, and the more proud of that I feel? The better my shoots will be.

Tip 3: Practice, practice, practice.

Yeah you heard me. Stand in front of a mirror, and practice your expressions and poses for a while. Muscle memory will be your saving grace when you start to feel that “Gah, this feels so strange!” tension.

You don’t have to grin like a maniac in every photo. Practice calming your face, and creating micro-expressions that feel more natural, and true for you. Stand with your feet one way, then another. Relax your jaw and eyebrows. Open and close your mouth. See how you feel with your hands on your hips, or your arms crossed, or sitting down.

One great trick? Take in a big inhale, and exhale slowly as your photographer snaps your photos. This will relax your whole body, give you something to focus on, and help you look much more calm and collected.

Tip 4: Dress in stuff you feel great in.

In almost every shoot I’ll do 3 different outfits (casual, party-formal, and business fab), 3 different hairstyles, and 3 shades of lipstick.

You’ll notice that in all my shoots, I’m dressed intentionally simply in blacks, whites, and blues. The silhouettes are sometimes unusual, but not so unusual that you’re wondering how I squeezed into them. The only real pop of color is either in my jewelry, my lipstick, or my blazer.

That’s intentional, because a) I often do shoots in front of white walls, and b) too many prints tend to distract me in photos. When I’m dressed in monochrome, or chic contrasting colors, the little voice in my head that’s speed-stressing things like “Omgisthistoomuch? AmItoomuch? Isthisgaudy? WhatamIdoing?!” snaps shut.

But before you go throw out that awesome crazy print dress you planned to wear for your next shoot, remember: This is just my opinion. Dress in whatever makes you feel awesome — that’s the key.

Tip 5: Have a drink.

Yes, really.

Now don’t get me wrong — I’m not advocating you walking on-set with bloodshot eyes and a sloppy grin. Don’t get drunk. Just sip on something like a small glass of wine or whiskey to take the edge off your nerves, if that’s something that you know might help. (No red wine, though.)

Do I drink at all my shoots? Absolutely not.

Will this tip work for everyone? Probably not.

But starting my shoots with some friendly banter and a little nip of something has helped me relax, and have a bit more fun without worrying whether I’m making a strange face. Maybe it’ll do the same for you.

Tip 6: Try to care a little less.

Ask any photographer worth their salt for advice before a shoot, and they’ll tell you the same thing:

“Be confident.”

It’s good advice, but not entirely complete advice for someone like me. While I can feel confident in short bursts during shoots, before long I’m wondering if the photographer thinks I’ve been staring into the distance too long, or if I look too silly, or too serious, or I’m trying too hard, or I’m too… anything.

So my advice? Try to keep calm by not sweating every. single. shot. Give yourself time to warm up (for me, it’s usually an hour or so). Sure, you’ll probably have a few duds when you review the raw footage, but a great photographer will be able to spot, and hone in on, those moments when a sense of power and confidence is coming through your eyes.

And remember: Great photos are a matter of capturing split seconds. There’s no way all of them are going to be awesome — but at least a few will be.

You might blink. One eye might be open more wide than the other. Your hair might be a little out of place in some shots. That’s OK — and the longer you sit with those “off-beat” photos, the more you might realize you actually like them.

How do I know? Because for every photo that hits the trash can, there will be a fantastic photo that shows the world who you are, and what makes you great. And having photos that capture your essence as an entrepreneur, brand, and human? That’s priceless.

So try to relax. Try to have fun. And “Say cheese!”, my fellow awkwards!

Like most millennial women, I share a group chat with two of my best friends.

Whenever an injustice happens, circumstances get tough through no fault of our own, or we’re breathless with disbelief about the flow of political, social, and economic events, we’ve coined a battlecry:

“Stay angry.”

Society has long told women to be more pleasant, to step back, or to find ways to be more neutral and accepting — that boiling over with rage is unbecoming, or unwise.

Of course, the same goes for men to some extent (what with constant unbridled fury being pretty unhelpful for society), but for women our lifelong conditioning to bite our tongues, hold it in, and pick our battles requires serious unravelling.

But times are changing. And so are we.

So we say: “Stay angry. Whatever you do, stay angry.”

And so should you.

Not forever, and not for keeps. Holding grudges and vendetta are boulders for a soul swimming through the mighty rivers of experience.

But healthy anger itself, in its raw and justified form, is a tool. It’s a fire in your heart, and under your ass. When you’re angry, and you know you deserve to be, you have the power of confidence on your side — which is the backbone of action that inspires great changes in you, and in the world.

And when you take that action? That anger turns into momentum; leaving you free to keep fighting the good fight with love in your heart, instead of hate.

We live in a world where complacency is easy, and welcomed.

“It can’t be all that bad,” we say, as we return to work, to our phones, to our other conversations.

But it can be. And it may be. That’s why complacency is the enemy of truth. So we have to stay (constructively) angry — and stay moving.

So if you, like me, are currently struggling with a big clay ball of confusion, sorrow, and frustration these days — may I make a suggestion:

Use those feelings, and pour them into making something.

Creation allows me to stretch my anger out, to meditate on it, and learn from it. To use the energy the heat of my chest has created to build into something else.

And now, I hope you’ll do the same with me. I have a few ideas.

5 ways to stay angry (and create beautiful things for the world)

• Way #1: Use your art

If you play music, write a protest album.

If you’re a writer, pen and share exactly how you’re feeling consistently. Share what you’re reading, and what you’re thinking.

If you do comedy, start writing a bit that makes people think, and reminds them what’s at stake.

Paint. Draw. Speak. Make videos. Wherever your creativity leads you, use it. Raise your fist however you see fit.

• Way #2: Go guerrilla

My favorite iteration of this is guerrilla gardening, whose official tagline is “Fight the filth with forks and flowers”.

Guerrilla gardeners use abandoned or neglected lots and plots of land to stage acts of protest for a range of causes — including land ownership and land reform — by sowing and tending illegal vegetable patches and flower gardens by night.

Other ideas:

Guerrilla positivity: Post-it notes or signs reminding people to stay strong, and keep smiling.)

Guerrilla bake “sales”: Bake key protest words, phrases, and imagery onto cakes, cookies, and treats, and share them with the neighborhood for free, talking to people you hand goodies to as you go.

Guerrilla greeting cards: Share cards with words of tolerance, or hope, or even — yes — anger if you like. Drop them into mailboxes. Have a field day.

FYI — International Sunflower Guerrilla Gardening Day is May 1st. Plant sunflower seeds in places you feel could use a little more beauty; like empty flower beds, tree pits, and roadside verges. I’ll be joining this year. Will you?

• Way #3: Open the door to conversations, online and in person, that you may have been uncomfortable discussing before

Now is not the time to stay silent. Now is not the time to worry about who you might be offending, or who might offend you. Ask your questions, share your insights, and invite feedback.

Be prepared to be disagreed with and hold space anyway. (Or don’t. I’m a “more flies with honey than vinegar” type, but it’s your platform. Say what you need to say, without hesitation.)

While this isn’t “beauty” in the traditional sense , every sentence, every thought, every opinion can plant a seed in someone’s heart, and help them pick up the torch when their time comes. So don’t hold back.

• Way #4: School yourself and others on how to help the people around you overcome bullying or harassment

There’s already a great comic about this making the rounds on social media about combatting islamophobia, but the same technique can be used for homophobia, racism, sexism, and everything in between.

If this happens to you, or to someone near you, online or in person? Do not keep quiet. Share about it. Write about it. Make another comic. Open the door to dialogue and keep it open.

• Way #5: Hold protest parties

While I haven’t done this yet, it’s a great way for yourself and your friends, to offer people space to vent, swap ideas, but also make merry.

A few ideas: Smash the patriarchy parties, Drinks and discussion parties, Rage art parties (to create more of what we talked about in Way #1).

Get creative. I sure will.

Now — are you ready?

This is it.

Stay angry with me.

Don’t let it fester, but don’t let it fade.

The fight is just beginning. How will you rise to meet it?