Introduction

Dear Coquette,

I’ve been thinking a lot about your book and how each of us has favorite posts, and how much our favorites say about who we are. Our questions say even more about us, and I cannot wait to read which ones you’ve chosen.

I’ve asked you so many questions over the years. Questions about trivial annoyances, self-discovery, heartbreak, and my deepest darkest fears. Sometimes they weren’t even questions. Sometimes I just wanted to share with someone who I knew would understand.

Thank you for answering. Thank you for showing us that while we can break, we can also break open, that we are not alone in our fears, our grief, our insecurities, or our ecstasies. I love this tribe of ours.

So tell me, what would you say to us after we’ve finished sitting at your feet to ask our questions? After we’ve all been fed and half of us have fallen asleep after a good fuck and the fire has died down and we’re just nursing the last of our whiskeys. When we are finally silent, what would you say?

Dear Reader,

I’ve been thinking a lot about this book too, but I can’t quite bring myself to call it my book. This is our book. It is a token of a shared journey, a memorialization of our years spent growing up alongside one another. We did this together, every last one of us, and I’m honored that you’ve chosen to be a part of it.

For those of you who’ve been here since the beginning, you already know what this means. When this all started we were a bunch of delinquent children in a treehouse slapped together in the backyard of the internet. It was a silly game of truth or dare that we played to escape our boring lives and annoying parents and that ex who had broken our hearts. We were fucking around just having some fun, and then somewhere along the way the conversation got deep, the problems became real, and we accidentally stumbled into our adulthood.

It’s been a hell of a ride, and this book has been a long time coming. Now that you’re holding it in your hands, I hope you feel how much it belongs to you, and I hope you enjoy what we’ve chosen for this best-of collection. It was a beautiful and brutal thing to sort through all of my thousands of posts and squeeze some order out of the chaos and madness. I think we did a damn fine job. (Shout out to my brilliant editor, Tom, without whom none of it would have been possible.)

The five parts of this book cover everything from love, sex and drugs to philosophical musings on the individual and the greater good. There’s even a bit about me. For those of you whose favorites didn’t make the cut, please accept my apologies ahead of time. No doubt you’ll understand that it takes a merciless form of math and murder to turn 3,500 pages into 350.

For those of you who are new, welcome. I hope you enjoy what you discover here. You’re a part of this now too, and as you learn more about what we’ve all been up to, maybe you’ll come to love this little tribe of ours as well.

Our tribe – I’ve never thought to use that word before, but there’s something deeply appealing about the idea. It fits. I love that you all have favorite posts. I love that you see yourselves in them. I love the depth and breadth of your countless questions and the connection I feel to each of you as I answer them.

I’ve had an absolute blast getting to know you all. You’ve taught me so much over the years. You’ve made me grow. You’ve made me think. You’ve made me proud. You’ve made me cry. You’ve allowed me into your lives, and you’ve been vulnerable in ways that never ceased to amaze. It really has been a fucking pleasure.

And to answer your question (as I always will), at the end of our day after we’ve all been fed, when the fire has died down and we’re nursing the last of our whiskeys, when those of us still awake have finished talking shit and telling stories, when we are all finally silent, then I will raise a glass and say what’s in my heart.

Thank you for being a part of my life.

You are all my secret treasure.