Taking Care.

2025 was not the worst year of my life. After the past five, my expectations are very low. In a machine gun fire of deaths, lockdowns, small business closures, and interpersonal landmines, having a year where only one friend died and I didn't have to shut the doors on something I worked endless hours to bring to life... yeah, it's a win. Not to be a fucking bummer. New Year's always makes me reflective, and as cliche as that is, I don't think it's a bad thing to spend some time taking stock of what you've done in a calendar year. What worked, what didn't, what your intentions are moving forward. Even in the shitstorm of unanticipated trip-ups, I am ever a planner. I like to know what I'm working towards, and how I am proceeding. It probably drives the people closest to me crazy. I'm unable to just kick back and enjoy a little time off, a little space from the grind- instead the "quiet" time is me examining the past 12 months and trying to formulate an attack on the next 12. Exerting some control on the foggy and unknowable future brings me comfort? Or spins my wheels enough that I feel satisfied. After a few days on my couch, here's the Good & The Ugly of 2025.

The Good: I made more art this year than I have in many years previous. I made sadboi autobio cartoons. I went to life drawing again. I drew on the streetcar, on the subway. I designed several short run pieces of merch for Little Ghosts books, two sticker packs, at least two new stickers every month for Sticker club, and three book covers for Little Ghosts press. I did two covers and a little logo design work for a couple of indie publishers. I designed several posters and graphics for our events and events for pals. I did a handful of portrait and pet commissions. I didn't always feel like doing the creative work, and sometimes coming up with ideas drove me absolutely bonkers, but I worked out the muscle for pushing through that block and coming out the other side. After years of feeling like I put down being an artist, this was the first year I really felt like I picked it back up again. It's like rediscovering a favourite album, or crying in the arms of an old friend. I don't know why I ever left.

I leaned into just being at Little Ghosts Books. After closing Sidekick, my instinct was to pick up a thousand things, get a side job, burn myself out so I could have a very familiar I am doing too much and I think I might die burnout. If I wasn't nearing cardiac arrest from the stress of it all, how would I know I was working hard enough? I listened to Jay and when I came to the shop with full availability, I didn't cut the team's hours or increase my workload- I lived in what was there, gave myself the space to take it in. I cut Books & Brews dates that were poorly attended in the past. We planned our first indie Little Ghosts' Fest, and while planning it we travelled less. We built up the newsletter as a team, hosted another monthly book club, and in general just settled into a homey routine. I am happy to have spent more time in the bookshop. I feel like the staff, the regulars, everything we do is better and warmer and more tight-knit now. Being present and not spread too thin across too much toast is no longer so uncomfortable I spiral into an I'm not doing enough panic. That's a win for a chronic workaholic.

I hosted way more friends and family at my place. See above, where I was used to making myself uncomfortbly busy as though that is a magical badge projecting to the world that I am a Good Boy who is Doing Enough. What I wasn't doing enough of was spending good time with the people I love in the way that I love to do. I hadn't made a meal for pals in years, hadn't baked for fun nearly as much as I like, hadn't watched a movie in a big dumb pile in my too-small apartment. This year, I fixed that. I hosted Monsterfucker Support Group (my monsterotica book club) for all of the good weather months, BBQing in the backyard. We had a movie night where I brought in all the outdoor furniture so we could fit everyone. Family members who hadn't been to Toronto in years came to visit, and I hosted dinner (as I had juuuuuust enough folding chairs to make it happen). Bruce, the snuggliest 85lb Rottwieler Mutt who ever lived, got to climb into the lap of nearly every person I like well enough to invite to our tiny abode. It's messy here- Jay and I love books, and I screenprint and craft, we both love to cook, and we do all of that in less than 800 sq ft. I have made countless shelves and cabinetry improvements to our space, but it is still cluttered in a way that makes me self concious. However, with full bellies and fun activities (and hopefully full hearts? That was my goal) no one made me feel bad about it. I think all of this put 5 years back on my lifespan, at least.

After an on-and-off fraught relationship with alcohol, this year I self-imposed a Sober Summer. I never drank at work, or got blackout, or really had anything that anyone in my life would identify as a problem, outwardly. But... inwardly, it was. I would get home from work, look around, not know what to do with myself, drink a beer, check out. It was often only one and never more than three. I was using it to "turn off." That didn't just include work- it included having real conversations with my spouse, cleaning the house, doing anything creative or vulnerable, answering my phone. Just dumbass dick behaviour, really. I could have been using those hours to read or work out or help cook dinner, and instead I was drinking. Moreover, I would drink beverages I didn't even like. Alcohol is much too expensive and bad for you to not even enjoy it. Giving it up for three months was embarassingly hard. I wanted a beer extremely often. But I managed to do it, and though I am no longer completely sober I often stock my fridge with non-alc Coronas or other fake beers to deter me from going back to old habits. I am hoping to be sober. I have sober aspirations. I just do really like a bourbon, a stout, the occasional glass of red wine. Alas. It might just be something I push against forever. Friends of mine who have stopped drinking also report that it is hard and stays hard, but I am proud of myself for the effort, and I do feel a lot better.

The Ugly:

Even though I took so much more time to be present both at home and in the business this year, I fell into my old traps. I used to say that I make all my decisions with my heart and none with my head, and while that's true, I have now had time to reflect and identify the problem a little more clearly. I will choose everyone and everything before I choose myself. If I can kick a problem down the road for the temporary benefit of other people with blowback only on myself, I will do that. Saying, "Actually, that doesn't work for me," seems fucking impossible. If I have no justification besides my own interests, safety, longevity, peace... then I will proceed without those interests in mind. I throw myself at grenades that never needed to be there. It has to end. I've developed a terrible jealousy for seeing people in my life choose their transition goals, financial security, and personal development above sacrificing themselves for the sake of their jobs, family obligations, etc. It's not a good feeling. I think at some point I thought taking care of everyone else meant safety, and it has served me in the past, but when you're an adult and the road gets hard... no one is coming to save you, but you. I'm working on hearing myself more, and showing up for it. It's incredibly difficult. I am no good at it. I will continue to try.

Small business is hard! This year brought tariffs and it completely tanked our online orders for months. Despite doing more and being more locally focused, the continued inflation married with the loss of sales meant that we stagnated financially. We applied for a dozen publishing and arts grants and recieved only two of the smallest of the bundle (which don't get me wrong, is a small miracle that I am greatful for). I don't know if it is sustainable, and if it is... not the way we are doing it now. I expect big changes coming to how we do business, but to all of my little main street and creative entreprenuer pals who closed up shop in 2025 and found day jobs... man, I see you. I have been doing this 1000% all-in since I was 23 and it is harder than ever before, and I am getting older, and I want things like an apartment with access to laundry and maybe air conditioning in the 100 degree weather. 10+ years of employing folks and small business taxes and commercial rent (Did you know that between Sidekick, Ghosts, and our apartment I was paying $12 000+ per month to landlords but couldn't ever qualify for a mortage to buy a building and cut that number down?) and it essentially on paper amounts to not much. In fact, it is often just seen as a negative. I'm a risk, unstable, a bad bet. It's demoralizing, y'all. I am working to hang on to the why of what I do, but the real pressures of it do get to me. I am still paying off the Little Ghosts business loan at a high interest rate. Heavy is the head and all that.

I found out I have a bio sibling, we corresponded for months, she flew across the country to visit me... then got overwhelmed and left before we could spend meaningful time together. I know this wasn't meant as a massive rejection of me as a person... intellectually. Emotionally, not so much. I know I am a flawed boy who is neurotic and avoidant and self-involved, but it is hard to imagine that, after getting to know each other via email for a year, someone would see me for a couple hours and have the very strong reaction of, "No thank you, I'm going home. Please cut back contact." I'm holding space to come back to this, and am working through understanding the trauma informeed reasons for the reaction to our meeting, but yeah. It hurt.

An old friend of mine commited suicide in March of 2025, and it spiralled me in a way that I didn't see coming. We hadn't been in close contact in years, but he was my first pal in the city. He worked at my favourite comic shop, and I saw him weekly if not more for many years. We did a drawing group together, one he invited me to. We had so much in common that folks referred to me as his "X-23" which will only have meaning to my fellow comics nerds. He was a cartoonist, he was funny, he was messy... everyone loved him. After closing The Sidekick and grieving my relationship to that community, it felt even heavier. Mutual friends told me how much he mourned that space, but it was a sentiment he never shared with me. He made me some silly art that was very current to projects I was working on despite not being in touch. I felt this loss, but I also felt a constricting pressure around my ability to be okay- I had been talking to my therapist about my depression which has always included suicidal ideation. I both wished we had shared the weight of living with this, and was angry that if I ever lost my fight with myself I would be doing this to all of our mutuals again. I made a few small comics about it, and maybe one day I will be able to share them, but for now... I just mark this as a terrible loss and a special light that went out in the world. And I am commiting myself to staying around, even when that seems like an insurmountable battle.

I'm hoping to keep the good from 2026 and dial it up to 11. Being more inside my life, creatively and interpersonally, has been immensely healing. If you're reading this and have been to anything I hosted- Thank you. Quite frankly, you're the reason I am still here. Between 2020-2025 I lost three people close to me, closed a small business, lost my beloved soul dog, saw my Nana move into a retirement home and begin to lose her memory, had to help Jay naviagte his Dad's estate and move his Mom into nursing care. We did all this while still accomplishing things as creative people which is actually insane. There has been so much joy but also it has been life on hard mode.

I want to put some of the suffering to bed in the upcoming year. So much of COVID-era life was just survival. That's familair to me. Putting your ideal scenarios aside and just dealing with the mess in front of you. I can give myself credit where it is due there. I am good in a crisis. I am bad at the rest. I don't want to rely on my very adept instincts. It's time to learn new things, help other people, build new experiences, grow. I'm signed up for a three month ceramics class. I'm going back to mentoring. I'm looking at going back to school in the spring. I'm giving myself space to explore the next steps in my transition. I am scared, but hopeful (which of course makes me scared again). In the interest of keeping track of these goals in a way that doesn't feel like another small business accomplishment checklist or a To-Do post-it that I am so fond of putting on my laptop keyboard to yell at me in insistent yellow, I made myself a little Bingo sheet. Whimsy! A lot of the slots are things that are already in progress, or habits that just need a little fine-tuning. I'm not here to self harm with impossible demands. Just continue to nudge myself in the direction of a life I enjoy living.

But seriously. A lot of the last five years can FUCK OFF.

So I made a little merch about that, in case y'all are also into saying a distainful 'Good Riddance' to the past half-decade. May the next be full of hope, change, creativity, and saying Fuck Off to the things that no longer work.

Fuck Off Black Glossy Mug

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Fuck Off Embroidered Sweatshirt

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Fuck Off vintage corduroy cap

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How are y'all feeling about the upcoming year? Share some hopes for 2026 in the comments, or bitch about how much 2025 sucked- anything in between. Always happy to hear from you. <3