Someone on Twitter pointed out that the worst part of the year of deaths is not simply that we’ve lost celebrities, but that we’ve lost a whole group of the celebrities who helped an entire generation realize that being different was somehow okay. That your sexuality and sexual identity/presentation didn’t have to be set in stone, or conform to the conservative standards. That you could have a mental illness and still be happy and successful and loved. The people we lost this year helped so many people come to terms with who they were, and losing them hurts precisely because they were so comforting in those ways.
This year has become a parody of itself. I cannot wait to toast its end on Saturday.
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