Blythe feels nervous about getting surgery, especially about asking for help.

Blythe also traipses. Blythe frolics. Blythe parties. That is, she thrusts her body out into the wide open world. She shows up and serves looks and makes people laugh and feel good and think. She gives her energy—that is, I do. For I am the she we're discussing. But what about we? Where does "we" fit into all of this GoFundMe business?

For the first time in a long time, I need to stay inside. Quiet and calm, no traipsing or frolicking allowed while I recover. And I cannot do it without you—that is, we can do it together. Come visit me in LA in January and February, while you're at it.

Preparation for this surgery has not been easy, nor has it been cheap. I've thankfully been able to manage thus far. Yet I've brushed up against the limits of what I can achieve alone, which brings us here. The goal reflects a cornucopia of various costs: my gorgeous deductible, time away from work, food, and essential supplies to help my body and mind heal.

This is a collective kind of embodiment. Your energy in sharing this fundraiser with people inside and beyond my orbit—and the labor you've traded for any amount you choose to share with me—will be etched into my skin for a long time to come. For what feels like the first time ever, I'm asking for help in a clear way without any pretense.

That's one of my New Year's resolutions for 2026—that is, I hope this is the best way to be accountable to that intention. For me, for you, and for us. I love you.