Don't Believe Yourself

👋🏼 THOUGHTS FROM ME, TO YOU

Dear Biddies,

If this finds you feeling poopy today, sometimes you just have to “dip it low, pick it up slow”, and hope that the movement shakes out some excrement that you no longer needed to be holding onto. In life, I have found that there is no greater antidote to pain than your ability to do the funky chicken dance, to get low like Lil’ Jon & The East Side Boyz rather than getting low like James Vincent McMorrow (though there is a time and a place for that, too), and to tell your own negative thoughts to go fuck themselves as you shake dat ass on the dance floor.

And perhaps, it’s not so much about your ability, because we all know how to dance (even the most awkward of all stiff-jointed straight white boys after a few beers), it’s just that we stop ourselves from dancing, from being silly, and from getting our freak on because somewhere in adulthood, we learned we had to take ourselves seriously. In the eternal chase for youth, perhaps what we are searching for is not an elixir that will firm up the skin on our sagging butts, but a way to remember that a loose butt can shake just as well as a firm one—a reminder that there is more possibility than impossibility in our futures. When I was a kid, I wanted to be Harry Potter when I grew up, and even though I lose no sleep over the fact that that dream didn’t come true, I never want to lose my ability to believe that my life can be magical, even if I’m feeling poopy.

Hard to believe it’s only been a week since I last talked to you all, because if feelings equated poop, I was feeling straight liquid diarrhea last week. And yet, some combination of finally taking my Zoloft consistently, copious amounts of sleep, and ultimately, a YouTube workout video that made me feel kind of stupid at first unlocked the happy lunatic in me that I’ve been searching for over the last few months. I dragged my ass out of bed on Monday morning wondering how I was going to face the week when I decided to search “yoga for depression” and then “workouts for depression” in my YouTube search bar, and then desperately clicked on this video and this video. The second made me feel absurd for the first 10-15 minutes before I realized that absurdity was exactly what I needed. That your body, does in fact, store emotion, and I needed mine to stop storing my depression to make room for my joy.

I’ve battled my mental health long enough to know that I’ll probably never be cured, and that there’s no shortage of heartbreak life has in store for all of us—the ones we love either leave us or die, money comes and then it goes, and we grow old and saggy despite our best efforts. But even in the face of the inevitable darkness that awaits us, we can remain defiant by sometimes, simply deciding to dance.

With love and aggression,
— anna

⁉️  ASK ANNA

Dear Biddie,

Every relationship ends, in the physical sense anyways—either because someone falls out of love or someone dies. Nothing in this life lasts, but I do know that the impermanence of love doesn’t, and shouldn’t, stop us from loving. In many ways, perhaps it would’ve been easier if your ex-fiancé died. Fell off of a cliff while hiking. Choked on a chicken bone. Stung to death by a swarm of Yellowjackets. Then you could miss him without the guilt that perhaps you could’ve done more, done less, or controlled the catalytic moment that split your life into two halves: the one where you felt loved, safe, and optimistic about your future, and the one you’re living now where you feel abandoned, unwanted, and pessimistic about the days ahead.

Sometimes, in order to feel better long-term, we need to look short-term. The shortest of terms. Myopic to the point where you’re not even counting days, maybe you’re counting hours, quarters of hours, or even minutes. And then, during those precious minutes we’re all borrowing from Father Time, we need to shock ourselves. If your daily routine involves going to work and then going home to cry over your DoorDash order, maybe tomorrow, you go to work (because #bills), and then go to the local shelter to give a dog a little love even if you can’t adopt one (a lot of shelters have a program where you can temporarily take a dog out for a few hours to help the dog decompress from the stress of being in a cage all day), and then after that, you give yourself permission to go home to cry over your DoorDash order. Your body has become accustomed to pain and what you’ve been doing so much that it needs to be reminded it can do other things, and in the process, feel other feelings. Maybe the dog doesn’t heal you completely, but it heals a cell in you. Or maybe it reminds you as it poops on the sidewalk after ingesting a questionable banana peel that you can still laugh even while you’re crying. Or, it shows you that you’re not a dog person, and that tomorrow, you’re going to take a cat out instead.

Your instinct isn’t telling you to avoid men, your pain is. Knowing the difference isn’t the cure to what you’re feeling, but it is a step forward. Your instincts are hardwired for connection and love, but your pain is hardwired to protect you from injury and death. The problem is, your pain is also a spineless liar, and it will convince you to stop living altogether in order to avoid injury and death when in reality, we’re all destined for either physical or emotional injury and death. I don’t say this to discourage you, I say this to remind you that even in your despair, while you are choking on your tears, you can still make noise, albeit gargling and muddied by the phlegm in your throat. One of my favorite works of fiction is the play Smokefall by Noah Haidle, and despite my best efforts, I could not summarize the passage below without butchering his message:

FETUS ONE:
Every story, if you follow it long enough, has the exact same ending.
Every life is just a little bit of noise between two silences.

FETUS TWO:
But there is that noise we get to make.

FETUS ONE:
No one will notice.

FETUS TWO:
We can laugh.

FETUS ONE:
We can cry.

FETUS TWO:
We can sing.

FETUS ONE:
We can scream.

The “how” to your question lies in the “what” you do, and if nothing else today, I hope you make a noise so weird and shocking that it surprises even the most painful parts of you into realizing that their work is done here, and you can let them go.

With love and aggression,
— anna

Got a question? 

Reply to this email with your question and I will try my bestest to answer in the next email.

GIVEAWAY TIME!

If you’ve made it this far, I’d like to give you free shit and also maybe hopefully reach more readers who this newsletter could help. I’m hosting my first ever giveaway and all you have to do is refer a friend who might like Brutal Banter (they don’t even have to sign up!) to enter for a chance to win the below beauty bundle from me. More referrals equals more chances to win. Everyone who refers still gets all the below freebie rewards automatically, but now, one lucky biddie will get this care package courtesy of me. Winner will be contacted and shared next week!

1. One referral: Get the f*ck back up a playlist (for days when life is kicking your ass). Never underestimate the power of a well-timed song to hack your brain into believing that you’re not dog shit.

2. Ten referrals: Get an exclusive pack of handwritten notes from me to remind you that you are, indeed, enough. Use them as your phone wallpaper, save them to your favorite camera roll folder, and remember that nobody ever got to be where they are without starting from where they were.

💄 BEAUTY BANTER

• Skin Banter: 

  

  Sol de Janeiro Rio Radiance SPF 50 Body Spray Sunscreen with Niacinamide: SPF but make it horny. Smells like a rich girl who doesn’t apologize and tans exclusively by accident. Shimmery but not glittery, dewy but not desperate. You’ll be glowy, greasy (in a good way), and slightly delusional. Spray it on before doing absolutely nothing productive—except maybe convincing yourself that your ex still checks your stories.

• Make-Up Banter: 

  

  The no-makeup makeup look for people who still want to be a little hot at the farmer’s market. Laura Mercier’s Long Wear Tinted Moisturizer Natural Dewy SPF 30 with Hyaluronic Acid delivers just enough coverage to even things out without hiding your skin’s actual vibe. Dewy, breathable, and infused with hyaluronic acid, it feels like skincare with a plot twist. SPF 30 keeps you protected while you pretend not to care who's looking at you in the tomato aisle. It won’t slide, won’t cake, and won’t betray you mid-afternoon—just soft, healthy-looking skin with main character energy and a subtle “I eat peaches out of tote bags” glow.

• Hair Banter

  

  If your ends feel like they’ve been ghosted by hydration, this is the soft apology they’ve been waiting for. The Mini Leave-In Conditioner from Crown Affair doesn’t just pretend to care—it actually shows up. Lightweight but nourishing, it smooths the chaos without weighing you down or making your hair look like it just confessed its feelings and instantly regretted it. It’s the kind of product that makes you look like you have your life together, even if you were crying into a sandwich an hour ago. Small enough to travel with, strong enough to un-ghost your split ends.

🗞️ ANYTHING BUT POLITICS BANTER

The headlines you may have missed while politics dominated the headlines.

1. Submarining: The Toxic Dating Trend That's Even Worse Than Ghosting
   Just when you thought ghosting was the peak of dating disrespect, along comes submarining—where someone vanishes without a trace, only to resurface months later as if nothing happened. This manipulative behavior is wreaking havoc in the dating world, leaving victims confused and emotionally drained. Discover why experts are sounding the alarm on this trend and learn how to protect yourself from becoming collateral damage in someone else's emotional games. 👉 Read the full article on VICE

2. She Gave Up Sex for a Year—and Found Something Wilder Than Romance

   Description:
   Melissa Febos didn’t just stop dating—she went full cold turkey on touch, codependency, and the idea that being wanted equals being worthy. What started as a year of celibacy turned into a brutal, brilliant confrontation with the self. If you’ve ever confused intimacy with identity, this one will shake something loose.

   👉 Read the full piece on The Guardian

3. Meet the 'Relationship Anarchists' Ditching Romantic Norms
   Tired of the dating rat race? Enter relationship anarchy—a radical approach where love isn't a zero-sum game and your best friend might just outrank your situationship. This WIRED piece explores how millennials and Gen Z are redefining intimacy by rejecting hierarchies and embracing connections that prioritize consent, autonomy, and mutual care. It's not just about polyamory; it's about dismantling the entire playbook of traditional relationships.

   👉 Read the full article on WIRED

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