074 – you have to write about the questions too

I don’t think enough writing can be done if your aim is to only write about the answers. I think you have to be open about the questions too, primarily because for someone like me, even the answers are found through writing. Of course, this is one of those times where the questions I’m seeking answers to are a little scarier than the ones that were present in my life over the last couple months. Questions like “Do I like to write as much as I think I do?”, “Can I make 10 original songs?”. Based on everything that’s happened this week, those questions are easy. Even “failure” in that aspect feels so easy to cope with. 

So what questions am I talking about then? 

This week, the questions have been: 

Q: Does the label woman not fit me well anymore? Could I benefit from labels like genderqueer or gender-fluid or nonbinary a little better? 

This one obviously came with a lot of grief. Realising how attached I was to this label was a revelation. Actually, it wasn’t a revelation. I knew I was quite attached to it. Growing up, I was quite often called a “tomboy” and I never actually liked the word. I don’t know why but I didn’t like being made feel “masculine” just because I liked to wear conventionally non-feminine clothes. So, then, feeling feminine and actually liking the label “woman” was a relief. If I liked the label, if I liked feeling feminine in my own ways, then clothes and presentation didn’t have to matter as much. I actually remember feeling quite happy when I got my first period. Despite all the crap it meant (ie monthly bleeding, cramps, PMS, etc etc), it made me feel great – like I finally belonged. 

I don’t know enough about how I feel about this label anymore, but I’m going to take this slow. It’s entirely possible that the label has served me well until now but it just doesn’t anymore. We’ll find out. 

I will be moving (or attempting to move) towards some detachment from it so that I can find out whether I’ve just been “tolerating” the label or whether I actually like it. 

Of course, it’s also worth keeping in mind that I may not want to think in terms of “man” or “woman” anymore. Currently, both words make me feel a bit icky. Which might be understandable because both words currently carry so much more within and around them. What a conventional man or woman looks like, their associated qualities, what society expects from each of these roles, etc etc. 

Why is this scary?— someone had asked me earlier. I think it’s only scary if I start thinking about the sexual identity aspect along with this as well. That is, 

Q: Do I not like my female body anymore? 

This one, I don’t think I want to explore just yet, not by myself. I want to understand how I feel, internally, before I start thinking about my form. After all, I am more than my form. I am more than body. Of course, I’m grateful for my body— it helps me sing, it helps me write, it helps me dance, it helps me paint, it helps me play instruments, it helps me smile, laugh, run, walk, sit, talk, eat, see, sense, etc. So, yes, I’m grateful for my body, and currently, acceptance and gratitude is all I can offer it. 

I wish I could tell you that writing about these questions makes me feel better. But the truth is, it only makes me feel a little better. So— then— there are some other questions that I think can help me cope with the heaviness of these ones, while I live and figure out the answers. 

Q: How do I comfort myself? 

I know I have people who love me, support me, are willing to talk to me about all this and that’s amazing and I’m incredibly grateful. But here’s the thing. Sometimes the hardest moments are just your own. You’re the only one who has to witness them, and you’re the only one who has to remind yourself that everything is passing. Compassion, music, kindness, self-love, I have to vocalise all this to comfort myself. I have to explicitly tell myself that I’m capable of finding my way out of this chaos, that I am capable of supporting all these confused, fearful, anxious parts of me as well. 

Q: How do I find joy and hope when I’m sitting in what feels like rock-bottom? 

Overlapping with the previous one, mostly. Went to a really nice concert last night and that really helped. It has in the past too. 

I remember April 2022, it had been over a month since I’d moved to Amsterdam. The housing market was proving to be super difficult and I was terribly anxious about not being able to find a place in the time-frames that I wanted. I was staying in my third hotel in less than 2 months, and I was about to enter a depression pit. But we had tickets to Peach Pit (one of my all-time favourite bands) and I put in all the effort to just GO. It was kind of the same last night. So I guess community events that are also aligned with my values and interests could be an important way. And of course, affirmations. We’ve made it this far, we can make it farther. 

Q: When do I feel powerful?

I don’t know where this came from exactly and power is not something I seek, but maybe so many feelings of of fragility, insecurity, weakness naturally beg this question. I think mostly, I feel powerful when I’m in awareness. Every time I can remind myself to come into awareness, whether it’s with positive daydreaming or even negative thought-spirals, coming into awareness can be an incredibly powerful and revolutionary act. Yesterday morning, it was after doing a “what am I feeling?” exercise, and turns out I was feeling a lot. So yeah, I think I feel powerful when I can be aware of everything I’m feeling or thinking and not let it consume me. It’s not about control, more about simply not being controlled by anything. 

039b – the passing nature of feelings + writing is a weapon

But eventually, most feelings pass. Even the most intense ones. It’s hard to believe that one day you could be grieving the one that got away, fully believing that no, you’re really never going to love again, and two days later the only thing you want with all your heart is to be present at your friend’s wedding which the whole world seems to have somehow made it for. And then that makes you ask a question to yourself… Is the FOMO (here, I’m referring to the feeling of missing out, not the “fear” of it) real? Ie would the feeling have been diluted a bit if fewer “other” people had made it to the big thing? Ie yes, you’re really sad to not be around for your friend’s big day, but is it a lil tougher simply because so many other people are? Ie feeling alone in your fomo can definitely make it worse. 

Now that we’ve isolated and untangled our feelings a bit after writing about them in 2nd person because hey, let’s face it that’s much easier.. I think I’m okay. I think I’m okay with the reality of having made some bad decisions. I’m okay with telling myself I’ll do better next time. 

Man, writing is so miraculous. When I write, new questions open up magically. Questions I wasn’t able to see when the thoughts were just thoughts in my head. What is it about putting thoughts out on a paper (or screen yeah yeah) that makes them feel so structurally accessible? I was going over some of my notes from 2020 and I’m feeling quite impressed by 2020-self in the way I write about my feelings and just open them up for analysis.

For example: This is a note I have around one of the feelings that comes up post break-ups. (ie not being able to express your lingering love for a person)

The main thing I’m impressed by is how quickly I am able to jump to a different thought (ideally a question, or a less negative thought) when I write. I think if this were just in my head I’d ponder over related thoughts (ie “I really miss him” -> “I really just wanna tell him ILY” -> “Maybe I should text him” etc etc) before I’d find the ability to question this train of thoughts. 

My conclusion from today’s adventures?: Faith in journaling and writing has been re-restored. Some of the stuff I went through today feels very breakthrough-like. Quite a fulfilling day in terms of self-growth. I was also quite sick for a whole week so quite glad to finally be feeling better.