After so many years of answering your letters, the time has finally come for me to write you one of my own. No, not to seek advice for some weird adult problem that’s all about retirement accounts and back hair (or maybe both at once! WHEE!), but rather, to say thank you—and to say goodbye. As a wise man once said, all good things must come to an end, and alas, young grasshoppers, I am moving on.
As you might have noticed, SparkLife has been slowly transforming over the course of the past year to focus more on classic literature, and less on social drama. These are not bad changes, but they do mean that the site will no longer require a resident expert in matters of the heart and hormones. And so, as the clock strikes midnight on December 31, Auntie will join hands with the Punishment Salmon, the Sacred Bikini-Wearing Badger, and the Googly-Eyed Weirdo in all his many various incarnations, and retire to her home in the deep, deep woods, where she will enter a chrysalis made of rhinestones and chewing gum, and emerge after a to-be-determined length of time as Auntie the White. (Yes, the Punishment Salmon has hands. I was waiting for the right moment to tell you. Now you know, and oh my god, it’s so creepy.)
We’ve been through a lot together over the past ten years, kiddos. Family dramas, friends and frenemies, breakups and makeups, crushes of every variety. We’ve learned how to flirt, how to date, how to dump someone, and how to ride out a breakup with dignity (and snacks.) Some of you have been here from the very beginning, and I’ve seen you grow up, graduate, launch careers, find your people, or maybe just one person. You’ve made me laugh, made me cry, and—on at least one occasion—turned my hair completely and prematurely gray. I’ve seen you navigate your way out of dark places, battle with demons both big and small, and persevere through hardship with humor, with strength, with the most wonderful grace. You’re terrific, and I’m so proud of you. Yes, you.
If you’d like to follow my writing elsewhere, you can keep an eye on me on Twitter—or keep in touch via email, especially if you have updates on that whole in-love-with-your-BFF situation. (Please! The suspense is killing me!) In the meantime, I want you all to know that you’re the best and brightest internet kids an agony aunt could ask for, and it’s been a privilege to be part of your lives. Happiest of new years, and best of luck.