Tag: labels

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. 

067b – the inherent insecurity of an artist

Something that I always keep coming back to is labels. I know that it’s important to me that I accept certain labels (from myself, for myself).

What are these labels, you ask?

Well, to name a few: artist, photographer, writer, poet, musician, singer, vocalist

I want to be able to use them for myself without scoffing.

I know exactly when I started rejecting these labels (I actually picked it up from someone else who was rejecting labels because they didn’t feel deserving of them, and because I thought that this person was actually much better at the craft than I was at the time, I internalised “well if they’re not even calling themselves a photographer, how can I?). And I applied the same reasoning to all others labels as well.

HOWEVER, there is only so much time and brainpower. It gets tedious to go through this dialog which almost always goes the same way.

Oh but how can I call myself an artist?
> Oh but you are an artist.
But I’ve never made any money out of my art or I don’t even know if any of my art is good!
> Yeah but that doesn’t matter. 

So, obviously, there is a push and a pull here. There are two parts that are fighting with each other.

Maybe rejecting these labels served me a purpose AT SOME POINT OF TIME. Maybe I didn’t want to come across as overconfident, or cocky, or lacking self-awareness, etc etc. I was afraid of judgement, basically. But is it serving me at all anymore? 

If I write -> I am a writer. 

If I click pictures -> I am a photographer. 

If I paint (sometimes) -> I am an artist.

If I write poetry (sometimes) -> I am a poet. 

If I play or make music -> I am a musician. 

This SHOULD feel true. This SHOULD feel enough. But why is it that it still doesn’t? I think it’ll take some practice. 

Let’s look at some definitions: 

noun: artist: a person who creates paintings or drawings as a profession or hobby.

noun: musician: a person who plays a musical instrument, especially as a profession, or is musically talented.

noun: writer: a person who has written something or who writes in a particular way.

You get the gist. I think it’s always the “especially as a profession” that I would hang on to as the main reason for rejecting all these labels. 

Yesterday at a poetry slam somebody talked about the inherent insecurity of an artist. Obviously I really related to that and we talked about it at length, but couldn’t really come to a conclusion. I think over the last few years, enough people have given me the gift of putting these labels on me and while it always feels magical to hear someone call you a poet or a musician or an artist etc etc, I know that what I really really NEED is for me to give myself the same gift, again and again. 

So okay, there is a clearly an inner-critic who is not ready to give this to me. Maybe I can think about the benefits of these labels, instead, then? 

To be honest, the only benefits I can think of for now are just more efficient and optimal conversation, I do think second-guessing everything you say can get tiring for someone listening to you. And then that (ie more confidence, surity) allows for quicker connections with potential collaborators as well. 

Maybe you’re thinking, how the fuck does this all matter? Call yourself whatever you want, just do the damn thing. But I’ve found that loopy dialogues like these are exactly what prevent me from doing the damn thing. If I’m thinking about this insecurity, then there’s a reason for it. I feel strongly about it, and I do feel a need to resolve it. 

Maybe that’s enough. Maybe I don’t need 100 benefits to a thing to adopt it. It feels true, it feels resonant. I know I revel in labels like woman, queer, demisexual, ambivert, etc etc. So why is it that I feel so undeserving of these other labels? 

I still don’t know. Ah, I don’t know if I got anywhere with this. 

But I’ll end this with one more point to my inner critic: maybe it’s just realising that calling yourself a musician doesn’t mean that you’re implying that you’re a good musician. That is something you cannot decide. You’re passionate about these crafts and you’re also cognisant about the subjectivity of art, that is all there is, actually.