All the Fucks I Had to Give, known to friends as “All My Fucks” and “These Fucks” took their dying breath and left this world on March 10, 2021, just before their thirty-fifth year.
These Fucks were born in the Frontal Lobe on a crisp, Fall morning when my kindergarten teacher asked me why my mother would make me wear such an ugly dress. They continued to grow strong and healthy for decades, fed heartily by many missed kickball kicks, uncontrolled bodily functions, a handful of fuck-nurturing junior high school bullies, and the desire to attend clown school.
An incorrigible socialite, All The Fucks I Had to Give could frequently be found fraternizing with Social Anxiety, Expected Perfection, and my Penchant for Toxic Relationships and Workplaces. One of These Fucks favorite pastimes was whispering sweet terrors of what other people thought about me into my ear. When I tore my powder blue, wide-legged corduroys down the center seam the first day of junior high, These Fucks insisted everyone knew the rip was caused by my terrible fashion sense. When two of my six graduate school applications were rejected, These Fucks mused it was probably because I didn’t have the brains to pursue a career in Art History. And when I arrived at my best friend’s wedding without a date in the summer of 2013, These Fucks convinced me the groomsmen were daring each other to hit on me as though we were in a nineties teen movie. All these days ended with me crying my mascara off in a bathroom stall at 4 PM, but the wedding incident included champagne—so that was nice.
All My Fucks had a prolific college career. Majoring in Insult to Injury with a minor in Public Humiliation Studies, These Fucks served as president of the Guilt Club and was named Volunteer of the Year of the Catastrophic Thinking Bank. These Fucks graduated from Shame University in 1998 as valedictorian of their class with high honors.
Another of All the Fucks I Had to Give’s favorite pastimes was spending hours rabble-rousing with My Social Anxiety. On any given day, you could find These Fucks at one of their favorite haunts, usually around Sending an Important Email, My Thought Spirals Before Going to Sleep, or at Before a Big Meeting.
These Fucks had been on life support for nearly five years before they passed. After suffering a life-changing altercation when they were suddenly hit in the face by The Realization People Aren’t Thinking About Me That Much, These Fucks have been in and out of rehabilitation. They were lovingly kept alive by my especially judgemental coworkers who hate the way I dress for no reason, eating more than others at public functions, and a stranger on the internet who made a snarky comment about my hair.
All the Fucks I Had to Give finally succumbed to death last week, losing their long battle with Self Acceptance, Attending Therapy, and Not Having Time For That Shit.
These Fucks will be missed dearly by many of my family members, who will find me much less tolerable at family functions, as well as my boss who is hell-bent on increased productivity, and all the ladies in my book club who consider my tastes to be “unrefined.”
These Fucks are preceded in death by The Need to Say Yes to Everything, Dating Shitty People, and The Desire for a Pony for my Birthday. All My Fucks are survived by Eating Two Desserts, Speaking My Mind, and Wearing Sweatpants to the Grocery Store.
Rest in Peace, All My Fucks. You will not be missed, and I’m glad you’re gone.