THE DAY AFTER the election, I watched my brothers and sisters encouraging each other to get their passports and identification papers in order. They shared essential information and resources to prepare for the future, offering support, money, legal advice, an escort—anything to keep each other safe.
The trans community is here; we have always been here. Contemporary culture can’t unsee us. This genie isn’t going back into the bottle. We’re not alone in feeling targeted, and are, in fact, joined by many others. It’s now even more critical to build alliances with communities of color, immigrants, women, Jews—anyone who has been targeted by this new administration. We are in this together, protesting and fighting a shared oppression. This struggle is universal.
We must remember that the path of human rights has lurched along throughout history with all sorts of persecution, progress, and setbacks. There’s a deep chasm in our society that has been exposed, and we’re all now staring into this abyss together. We’re unsure of what to do and what comes next as we grapple with fear, anger, sadness, and despair.
Apathy is not an option. The only antidote for this anxiety is to connect with community: the real-life, here-and-now, in-the-flesh human beings who are our neighbors, coworkers, fellow commuters, baristas, strangers we pass on the street—each person who wanders into our everyday lives. Now, more than ever, we must strive for kindness in our daily interactions.
I’m not going to stop working for LGBTQ rights. I’m going to fight harder. Everyone around me promises to do the same. Now is the time for hope and faith in the essential goodness of community. Together we will—we must—create a future in which art, activism, and freedom flourish.
Grieving couple comforting each other
This response to someone grieving a friend might be the best internet comment ever
When someone is hit with the sudden loss of a friend or loved one, words rarely feel like enough. Yet, more than a decade ago, a wise Redditor named GSnow shared thoughts so profound they still bring comfort to grieving hearts today.
Originally posted around 2011, the now-famous reply was rediscovered when Upvoted, an official Reddit publication, featured it again to remind everyone of its enduring truth. It began as a simple plea for help: “My friend just died. I don't know what to do.”
What followed was a piece of writing that many consider one of the internet’s best comments of all time. It remains shared across social media, grief forums, and personal messages to this day because its honesty and metaphor speak to the raw reality of loss and the slow, irregular path toward healing.
Below is GSnow’s full reply, unchanged, in all its gentle, wave-crashing beauty:
Why this advice still matters
Mental health professionals and grief counselors often describe bereavement in stages or phases, but GSnow’s “wave theory” gives an image more relatable for many. Rather than a linear process, grief surges and retreats—sometimes triggered by a song, a place, or a simple morning cup of coffee.
In recent years, this metaphor has found renewed relevance. Communities on Reddit, TikTok, and grief support groups frequently reshare it to help explain the unpredictable nature of mourning.
Many readers say this analogy helps them feel less alone, giving them permission to ride each wave of grief rather than fight it.
Finding comfort in shared wisdom
Since this comment first surfaced, countless people have posted their own stories underneath it, thanking GSnow and passing the words to others facing fresh heartbreak. It’s proof that sometimes, the internet can feel like a global support group—strangers linked by shared loss and hope.
For those searching for more support today, organizations like The Dougy Center, GriefShare, and local bereavement groups offer compassionate resources. If you or someone you know is struggling with intense grief, please reach out to mental health professionals who can help navigate these deep waters.
When grief comes crashing like the ocean, remember these words—and hang on. There is life between the waves.
This article originally appeared four years ago.