FUCK IT

Dear Universe,

I’m realizing there are two very different versions of the term “fuck it.”

The first means everything sucks. Everything goes wrong. There’s no point in trying because life is just going to fuck you in the ass. Fuck it.

This is the “I-give-up” fuck it.

Then there is the fuck it I prefer: the “bring-it-on” fuck it.

The bring-it-on fuck it says, “Look, I don’t control how this plays out. Life is gonna life, and it’s gonna life hard. Certainty? Doesn’t exist. So you know what? FUCK IT. I’m going to enjoy the ride”

What if we said that kind of FUCK IT more often?

It’s raining today? Fuck it – I’ll get wet and dry off later.

My husband left? Fuck it – I’ll drink wine and do yoga and have unshaved yeti legs under my sweatpants for a while and see if there’s a soulmate who dares enter the scene eventually.

I burned the dinner in the oven? Fuck it – we’re having cereal today, kids.

The bring-it-on fuck it is the battle cry of someone who dances in the ring with life even if they might get knocked the fuck out by it.

That fuck it person enters the ring with a resounding “Let’s fucking go!” because even a Mike Tyson to the face will make a hell of a story later.

The I-give-up fuck it people?

They stand there saying “why bother?” bracing to get punched in the nuts.

Same potentially-lethal blow. Way less fun.

Look, I get the I-give-up fuck it, Universe. I hear it. I’ve said it on many occasions.

That’s the fuck it of someone who’s taken a lot of fucking punches. Hell, they deserve a medal just for still standing.

But for me? Fuck it – I’m going in swinging.

I’m not giving up.

That fuck it can fuck right off.

XO – Bailee

October 2, 2026