I Can't Have It All, But I Can Have This

Every couple of years (every couple months, every couple weeks, every couple hours), a new article is released asking that same old post-feminist question: Can a woman truly have it all? Probably not (it's unlikely that you'll ever grow eagle wings, though, please, prove me wrong), but that doesn't mean that there's not a ton of amazing, super cool things that we can have and that several of us probably already do have.

Take me for example. I, by most definitions, am a woman. I identify as female and was born with female reproductive organs. I once fainted while drinking a mimosa at a brunch spot that I described to a friend as "cute" and, recently, I started sobbing while rewatching an episode of Friday Night Lights because "no one will ever love me as much as Coach loves Tami." Those, I believe, are the scientific qualifications for womanhood and I meet them with flying colors.

Sadly, I do not have it all. Like right now, for example, I do not have a plate of nachos or a talking dog or all of the dozens — literally dozens — of other things that my life is seriously lacking, but this is not about those things. This is about all of the great things that I do have and am generously willing to share with you:

  • A scab on my right shoulder from what I say is a skateboarding accident, but is really from burning myself with a curling iron.
  • A crumpled up paper bag on my floor that I keep meaning to throw away, but —UGH — later.
  • A permanent retainer glued to the back of my two front teeth.
  • An eye that I JUST realized is BIGGER than my other eye.
  • A photograph of my first grade classmate who is now in prison for attempted murder.
  • Three almost-empty bottles of Sriracha in my fridge.
  • A flop sweat.
  • A bunch of notes I've written dictating who I forgive and who I do not forgive in the event that I die unexpectedly.
  • Relatedly, a will that I wrote while drunk, in pencil and on the back of a receipt, determining which of my friends gets to keep my shitty clothes.
  • Occasional night terrors.
  • An oscillating fan.
  • Several entertaining anecdotes for when I'm finally interviewed on a podcast.
  • A working accordion that I do not know how to play.
  • A genuine feeling that, if we met, Mandy Moore and I could be really good friends.
  • A baditude.

As you can see, my life is fine — spectacular, even — without having it all and you know what? I'm not even sure that this supposed all actually exists. Buddha once said, "When you accept you have nothing is when you truly have everything." No, not that Buddha. I'm talking about the guy named Buddha who sits outside of my corner bodega and never wears a shirt.