Robyn Louis's Blog

Valentine’s Day, 2026

I woke up at 3:00 AM — a fairly regular occurrence for me — and scheduled a massage. Do I normally get massages? No. Pretty sure my last one came courtesy of a work trip to a golf resort a few years ago. But thanks to being relegated to my apartment by below zero temperatures, unrelenting snow, and what increasingly feels like a midlife crisis that’s left me feeling like a boat bobbing along without direction, my body feels like garbage. This is my fault. I’m sitting around, eating potato chips,...

I didn’t want to do the “Welcome back to WordPress” post. Why? Well, I wanted to be too cool for it. I wanted to show up, irreverent and removed, using all lower-cased letters because I saw the cool kids on BearBlog(1) do it. But as I re-familiarized myself with the WordPress community, I was taken aback. I forgot how warm, how earnest, how real it can be over here. In the face of genuine authenticity, my schtick felt… well… like a schtick. Silly and try-hard and not even in a fun way.

So, I’...

Full Moon in Leo, 2026

“No, I do not weep at the world — I am too busy sharpening my oyster knife.” (c) Zora Neale Hurston

in 2024, i promised myself no matter what happened in november, i would pursue joy. i’m a black woman in america, raised by women who survived segregation in church pews and backyard get-togethers with a little something to drink, a cigarette they shouldn’t have smoked, and music to groove to. our pain birthed american art forms — the defiant joy in our tambourines and church stomps became go...

once a month, i swear to god i’m done with writing. i tell myself the old internet is dead and there’s no reviving it. i delete whatever medium i’m desperately clinging to for attention or relevance or the tingle of aspiration i once felt in the presence of a cool, self-possessed internet personality and promise to dedicate my precious time and attention to literally anything else. i’ve been on the internet for two decades — surely, i’ve run out of things to say.

and i was so serious this tim...

Well.

That’s one way to start a year.

I didn’t have hope for 2021. I told myself I’d play it by ear, a day at a time. The way I do everything else. I know, I know. Stoicism is boring and you’re sick of hearing me not have expectations for anything, but it is how I managed to survive 2020 in one piece, so I’m sticking with it.

Even with my ambivalence for 2021, I was unprepared to witness an armed insurrection at the United States Capitol.

My emotions ranged from shock to fear to a...

It came to me in the middle of the night, staring at my ceiling.

Youve never liked yourself.

Whoa. That couldnt be true.

I conceded my childhood and teens. I was good at one thing: school. I pushed myself to excel because the acclaim I received being a good student was the bright spot in an otherwise difficult childhood. As I entered my teens, I added self-righteous good girl to the mix. I didnt like myself anymore, being not like the other girls, but it turned down the volume on the...

So remember my triumphant return to blogging? Because the world was in shambles and I thought we’d need mediums like these — emphasizing the personal, the mundane — to act as our bridge over troubled waters? (I did not say “bridge over troubled waters” at the time, but it sounds good here, so I’m going with it).

Well. That hasn’t quite worked out.

It’s hard to write about yourself when you’re lost. When you’re sick of yourself. When you have no idea who the hell you are anymore and you’r...

I am not an infinite resource.

I am not a giver. My cup does not runneth over with affection or love or anything lying in wait for someone to receive it.

I am selfish.

I’m a bitch.

I am a fierce protector of myself.

I am rarely overwhelmed.

I used to be a person who dreamed impossible dreams, craved the adoration at the top of the mountain, needed to affirm my ability to anything and everything I put my mind to. I used to burn at both ends.

Now, I do not.

I say no....