hi, hello, it's me, Maleficent
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So it appears the intentions I sent out into the Universe for Monday, January 20th did not transpire!
I have tried to write, in a humorous tone, about my use of grudges in life. I’m well aware of the countless articles that describe how grudges are not healthy, or problematic, or could be resolved with forgiveness. I wanted to counteract those messages.
Here’s how my previous writing on grudges began: A book I was consulting about anger asked me to do an exercise where I list out my grudges. Instead of beginning with something like “humans” or “capitalism,” I started with just the names of individual people I hold grudges against. My list totaled 18 people. This was a surprise to me because I’d previously envisioned a much longer list, more of a chore to write, a document that would unearth some ancient history or something. But no. Just eighteen souls. Another pleasant surprise is that none of the people on the list were serious romantic exes. I truly have only good thoughts about them, and I wish them well. The rest were a mishmash, starting with a couple of people who have either known me my entire life or just about, and neither of them is my late father (lol, sorry, Mom). Then there was a small cohort, very small, of people I met in my 20s. Also included was someone I met in my 30s, and the rest were all people I’d met since 2014. 2014 is significant only in that it was also when my first book came out. Let the grudges begin! Let them multiply! What did these people do to earn a grudge? A sticky, gritty mosaic of reasons—everything from “used to love me and praise me and take photos with me then out of nowhere stopped talking to me” (babe, I kinda miss you, but fuck you), to “harmed me with their inaction that would have saved me from harm” to just plain old “betrayed me” (its own umbrella—we’ll leave it at that). I should note that also left out of this list are all the grudges I hold on behalf of other people—an entire population that would fill a tiny town! These are legitimate gripes, ranging from “wrote something stupid and shitty about my friend,” to “underpaid people,” to “put my friend in mortal fucking danger” (they can all go to hell).
Previously, the writing then took a turn and I was considering how my grudges, over time, have become “less severe.”
But this is 2025. My grudges, actually, have multiplied. Malice, wishing ill harm (often in ridiculous, unrealistic scenarios), and grudges are just one tool I use for staying alive.
This current political moment, which has been building for years, if not since the beginnings of the u.s., requires me to feel more than just bad, yucky, or grim (and I feel all these things). I feel horrified, and sometimes I feel scared. I feel betrayed by people I’ve never met. Harm does not have to come to me, personally, for me to feel these things.
My malice towards those in this country that have been given the power to fuck with people I love motivates me to stay alive. My grudges against those who do nothing to stop the harm, have done nothing, who in their inaction enact harm, only grow. These grudges are justified. This malice I have seems, to me, reasonable under the circumstances. My amusing fantasies of harm coming to those in power (the easiest one is wishing them embarrassing, painful gastrointestinal issues for the rest of their lives) may not be fueling a revolution, but they sometimes help me make it through the day.
Sometimes writers and artists benefit from the spite they feel toward any number of things—whether it’s a perceived snub, reading a book they disagree with, or reading a book they wish they had written. This kind of spite, when a writer/artist can use this particular juice to push them, while not wholly identifying with the feeling of spite, can, and does, create art.
Back to my notebook:
Today, I couldn’t tell you without checking my notes who the 18 people are. I could probably name about 6, tops, off the top of my head. Sometimes they show up in a fond memory. Sometimes their names are revealed to me when someone else mentions them on social media. Oh, them. Right. A couple of them heart my Instagram photos and I see them—Hi, it’s your Grudge calling! We like what we see! And other times I’m greeted with a reply I can’t see on someone else’s social media, and I have to click to view who it is, and then it’s Oh, yeah! I muted/blocked you! Good call.
In 2025 some of my personal grudges have faded. I have even approached some of the old grudges with something like humor, sometimes even a measure of neutrality. My grudges against those in power, though: they shine with fury.
The photo above, of the yellow flower pushing through the wooden fence, is one of my guides in 2025.
If you are someone motivated by spite, driven by vengefulness against those who have harmed you: Harness that shit. Make it work for you. Whether personally or globally. Smile as you drive a stake through the heart of that which tries to crush you. Laugh when you see your enemies fall. We need you in this fight.
I’ll be here, working, writing, continuing to send my intentions out, alchemizing my bitterness into useful actions in this terrible time, including and not limited to, art.
Thank you for reading. Thank you for being here.
Pre-order the reissues of my books, coming in April 2025 from Northwestern University Press
I was once told that I am genetically predisposed to holding grudges. True story.
😂I believe it