encouragement

blog: breakthrough and new beginnings

I don’t often experience “breakthroughs”. I’m more of a slow and steady, parse the information, ruminate on all the options kinda gal. But I guess ‘breakthrough’ is the closest word I can use to describe where my head is at right now.

Two weeks ago, I marched in the Sydney Mardi Gras Parade for the first time. It was actually my first time even attending the parade since 2000. I’ve always been queer and I’ve never felt the need to label my queerness. The crowds, the hullabaloo, the spectacle, the Pride-with-a-capital-P aspects of queerness weren’t really for me. But I’ve been intentionally exploring my place in the ‘alphabet soup’ of LGBTQ+IA for a few years now, and since I had no other commitments I decided this was the year I would do all things Mardi Gras.

It was important to me to join a float that spoke to my intersectionality, so I chose Aspect, an autism support group (whose theme this year was literally ‘Intersectionality’ by the way). Because my health has been somewhat in decline the last 5-6 years, and having never marched before, I was worried about the physical demands of the parade. Everyone I spoke to said something different, from the “Oh it’s really quick, like a light jog, I don’t think you’ll be able to do it, why don’t you hire a mobility scooter?” crowd, to the “It’s a quick walk but there’s lots of stops and starts and chances to catch your breath, you’ll be fine.”

And you know what? I was. In fact, I felt more than fine, I felt AMAZING. Seeing the crowds lined up to cheer the marchers on was so empowering, and I felt especially proud when I walked past the disability and accessible viewing space and saw two awesome individuals I’d met and shared a train into the city with. The walk was easy, I was dancing the whole time. Afterwards I went off to a metal gig and though I was dressed in 80’s gear (the sub-theme of Aspect’s float), nobody cared and they even complimented me on my outfit. Then I spent the rest of the night hanging out with some friends feeling completely relaxed, completely myself, and importantly, feeling good about who my whole self is. I even connected with someone unexpected, in a really open and honest way, no games or bullshit, which is always such a blessing.

It made me realise there’s a lot I’ve been missing out on in life, because I’ve thought it too hard or that I didn’t deserve it. It made me angry at myself and my entire perspective has shifted since that weekend, for the better. I immediately put myself on a sensible diet plan, and have already lost 2 kg. I’ve organised some fitness training, which I’m nervous about but will try my best to stick to. I haven’t even needed my cane at all during this whole time. I’ve finally got my house in order. There are some negative things in my life right now that I’m dealing with. But overall I’m feeling like the good outweighs the bad.

Best of all, I feel the creative juices flowing for the first time in years, and decided to revamp this blog site (that I hadn’t touched in ten years, d’oh). I’ve spent the last couple of weeks trawling through old livejournal accounts, google drives, multiple emails and FB pages and profiles to find the majority of the poetry I’ve written since 1998 (prior to that it’s in a notebook somewhere and I was an angsty child and no one needs to read that stuff, haha). I’m so close to re-launching this site, and questioning myself hard. What is my motivation here? How do I want people to engage with my art? What if this is all just angsty depressive love poetry word vomit and I’m not as good as I think I am?

It’s easy to run back. It’s easy to say, “You know what? At least I tried… ” and disappear again into my cave. It’s easy to tell myself that nobody wants to read my style of writing anymore, that my health problems are too much of an obstacle to experiencing human connection, that people will ultimately just betray and hurt and reject anyway so why bother. It would be easy to go back to my victim mindset and cry about my loneliness and feel sorry for myself. But… I don’t want to. I WANT to put myself out there again. I WANT to see if there’s still a place in the world for my art. I WANT to see if there’s someone out there who can love me.

They say ‘The heart wants what the heart wants‘ – and I can’t tell my heart to be quiet anymore.

blog: just smile and say thank you

I was talking to a friend yesterday about how a lot of people have to learn how to take a compliment graciously. For example, someone says “That’s a lovely dress!” Me a few years ago: “Oh, this old thing? I got it at Kmart on the clearance rack!” Me today: “Why, thank you!” But it took me a while!!

It’s really not hard, but I guess a lot of us struggle because compliments force us to admit we secretly think we look cute too, or did well in a challenge, or cooked a really great meal, etc. A lot of us grow up being told not to “put tickets on ourselves” (for non-Australians that’s “think too highly of yourself”!).

And we have “tall poppy syndrome” here in Australia, where anyone who tries to stand out above the crowd becomes a target for being taken down a peg or two. Which makes today’s rhetoric of “love yourself” and the body positive movement, etc. so hard to embrace for some people.

But if we were to embrace our own awesomeness, it wouldn’t be hard to say “Thank you” when we are paid a compliment. Instead of deflecting the compliment we are paid, I’m sure some people give false compliments just to be ‘nice’ or to be manipulative but I’d wager that most compliments are genuine and people who give them just want to contribute to making your day a little brighter. By deflecting their compliment, you are devaluing their opinion and their contribution to your life.

So practice just saying “Thank you” when people say nice things about you! It’s hard at first but it’s not impossible, and when you do there are smiles all round.

Oh, and by the way – you look nice today!

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blog: create your own interpretation

Three things are true:

1. Everyone has a story
2. Your story is important
3. YOU ARE NOT YOUR STORY

We tell ourselves stories all the time. We give meanings to things, it’s kinda what humans do. We hear what people say, we see what they do or don’t do, and we add our own meaning on top. It’s natural to apply personal experience to things, to want to deepen our understanding of them. But too often we stop there, we take our assumptions as gospel.

Assumptions make asses out of umptions, which is bad enough. But when we internalise ‘meanings’ as truths, when we allow these perceptions to become part of our “story”, we cross into dangerous terrain.

Interpreting stuff that happens in a way that is negative and harmful to our self-identity and self-esteem can damage and alter our view of who we are so effectively and insidiously it can take years to come to the surface. And yet these damaging hidden ‘truths’ we embrace about who we are have a very real affect on our actions and choices along the way.

“I’m worthless.”
“I’m ugly.”
“I’m fat.”
“I’m trouble.”
“I’m no good at anything.”
“I tore my family apart.”
“People will always let me down.”
“I have to look out for myself.”
“I can’t trust anyone.”
“I can’t be trusted.”
“I’m a bad person.”
“I’ll only hurt others and let them down.”
“I deserve to be hurt.”
“Nobody gets me.”
“I have no one.”

Seriously, who wants to go through life with a story like that?

Things happen. How you interpret them is going to become part of your story, that’s inevitable. But you are in charge of what you make it mean. Don’t stop at assumption. Don’t short-change yourself. Look at your identity, the stories you tell yourself about who you are, where do they come from?

Our identity is often comprised of a series of coping mechanisms and defences we created to deal with the challenges in life and our limited understanding of them. You don’t need to lock yourself into an identity that was created to address life situations you may no longer inhabit.

Take any of the above statements and picture a friend saying them – how would you react? Would you tell them they were being ridiculous? Would you rush to reassure them that those things are simply not true? Would you help them find ways of turning their thinking around?

Good. Now go look in a mirror, and do the same thing.

“I’m worth everything.”
“I’m beautiful.”
“I’m happy in my skin.”
“I’m someone worth knowing.”
“I’m good at anything I put my mind to.”
“I value and respect my family relationships.”
“People want to be there for me.”
“I can learn to let people in.”
“I have faith in people.”
“I am trustworthy and reliable.”
“I am a good person.”
“I am committed to having positive relationships with others.”
“I deserve to reach my potential.”
“I have many unique qualities to offer people.”
“I have a strong and supportive network.”

Life’s too short to build your identity based on negativity and pain. Embrace change, embrace love, embrace a more authentic and connected life

blog: serendipity is a scam

Every ‘beginning’ is a re-branded ending.  But if that sounds depressing, the counterpart is also true – every ending is a re-branded beginning.  The more you realise this, the more you see that there is no finiteness to the universe, everything is fluid.  Everything old is new again.

People often think things like, “If I hadn’t spoken to the stranger on the bus that day, this particular chain of events would never have happened, and I wouldn’t be getting married/ getting a promotion/ writing this book right now. It was meant to be!”  Or they apply the same worry to the future, that if we’re not in the right place at the right time, we’ll miss an appointment with destiny. But Serendipity is merely a nice idea.

Story time!  Over a decade ago I was coming home from cooking class via the train, and I had a bag full of fresh baked apple pies.  The train being crowded, I was standing in the foyer with a bunch of other people, and an alternative-looking guy about my age decided to sit down on the floor. Fearing for the safety of my freshly baked goods, I cried, “Don’t sit on my pies!” He apologised, then said, “You’ve got an accent!” and by the time we had arrived at our destination we were firm friends. 

If life were a Hollywood movie, I’d be telling you the story of how I met my husband.  But that man has been happily married to another woman for six years now and both of them are very dear friends.  True, you could say that a chance encounter led to a friendship that has spanned over a decade now, but it could also have been true that it led to the worst heartbreak of my life, or even nowhere at all. 

I guess the point I’m trying to make is that we make our own fate.  I do believe some things are meant to come into our lives in some way, but I don’t believe our destinies are set in stone (unless you’re Ta’veren, but that is a whole other blog). The universe gives us the raw ingredients, if you will, but there are many different combinations we can make from those circumstances and happenings. 

The concept of time as linear is false.  You cannot stray from the path if there is no path to stray from. When you see this, you’ll either feel lost and frightened by s lack of definitive purpose, or you’ll feel liberated and stop beating yourself up about missed opportunities and failed five year plans.

Seeing life events as devoid of the “meaning” we tend to ascribe to them doesn’t have to be depressing and nihilistic.  It can be an exciting blank canvas, an empty stage on which to play and create anything we want. 

blog: you are not alone

There will be times in your life when things get a bit slippery, it’s hard to hang on and you feel like you’re falling. It’s natural to panic and reach out to other people around you for help, but you often get mixed reactions depending on who you turn to.

There will always be the people who tell you not to be silly, of course you’re not falling. They firmly believe things like, you reap what you sow, or that a little hard work and perseverance can solve almost any problem you might have. These types of people often think there’s no such thing as depression and mental illness, preferring to label it as ‘laziness’ or ‘melodrama’ instead.

Then there are those who refuse to acknowledge your cries for help, simply because they don’t want to see you fall. They care about you, and can’t handle the thought that you might not be okay. Or maybe they want you to sweep it under the rug, because they depend on you, and need you to be stable and to be there for them.

There will also be those who just want to tell you all about the time they fell. They are quick to talk about their experiences; the “story toppers” are especially hard to deal with – if you have depression, they have the mother of all PSTD, if you have trouble making ends meet, they’ll tell you how they nearly lost everything that one time. These people can be useful, recommending medication or treatment methods, organisations who can help you, or things that worked for them. However, they tend to busy themselves with the symptoms, and ignore the cause.

All you really need sometimes is acknowledgement. What you need is someone to reach out and grab hold of you and halt your downward progress. You need someone to look in your eyes and say, “I know.” And then it will be okay. Because you know that someone out there knows what you’re going through, and they’re committed to not letting you fall.

That’s who *I* want to be – and who I want to encourage other people to be. Sure there will always be elements of all the above people in how we treat people who are struggling and disadvantaged. There will be temptation to deny what other people are going through, or to relate to their experiences in context of our own, and that’s fine. As long as at the end of the day, we’re throwing the life line as well, and letting people know – we’re on their side, and they are not alone.