on not creating
i owe myself a life with fewer demands
More than once this week I’ve sat down to write something and thought, Maybe I don’t need to share every thought I’ve ever had on the internet. And for the most part, this is true. I can tell I’ve been a lot happier not posting constantly on places like Instagram or Twitter (if you’re one of the ten people on my Snapchat, congrats, you get my constant word vomit and ugly selfies). There’s something sacred about keeping your life private, not feeling pressured to make a spectacle of your daily life. It’s easy to claim that writing and posting are opportunities for creative growth because oftentimes they are, but I think artists are all guilty of letting their art bleed too far into their life. Sometimes it’s good to create too much, especially if you’re really in a groove, but I think we are conditioned to believe we should be constantly putting out work. That personal work is not only worthy of public consumption but it’s necessary for you to be successful and happy.
The truth is, I’m not creating right now. Outside of my weekly self-portraits, I’m just trying to get by. I had an idea for a possible book I could write (typical), but after writing about ten pages, I realized that I actually can just let the idea be an idea for a while. I don’t have the headspace to be a writer right now.
A few years ago when I was in the worst creative rut of my life, I started to worry that I would never get back on the horse. I’ve always been in and out of creative blocks, as most writers are, but there was a year or two there where I just could not find any joy in writing, in creating. All my zeal disappeared. And I felt like it was my fault. That I needed to try harder or work on something better. But I was burnt out. And there’s nothing shameful about that. There’s nothing shameful about putting away the computer or the pen or the camera or the paintbrush and just…letting yourself be who you are.
Art always finds its way back to the artist. Sometimes the artist just has to go on a few journeys before they can be reunited with their art.
And lately I don’t know who I am. I know that I will never stop creating, not truly, because I was born with sparks in my fingertips. I know that right now I am stuck in the monotony of life, trapped in a day-to-day that feels a little hopeless and a lot overwhelming. I know that what brings me joy right now is going to Ballad Bingo on Mondays, watching a procedural show about a firefighter found family, reading queer memoirs. I know that I am struggling with demand avoidance. I don’t know how I’m supposed to be a normal person or how I’m supposed to keep my apartment clean or how I’m expected to eat three square meals a day every day for the rest of my life. But I’ve never known that, so what’s new.
I’m trying to fill up my cup without feeling bad about withdrawing. Thankfully I’ve evolved enough that I know I don’t owe the internet anything. I don’t owe you a newsletter every other day where I bear my soul, even if that’s therapeutic or fun sometimes. I owe myself a life with fewer demands. I’m trying to figure out how to do that.
I read a memoir by an intersex activist recently, and I think more than anything, it brought me back to a place that made me want to share my story. I haven’t felt that way recently, hence probably why I’ve withdrawn from writing newsletters, but this memoir was so…confident. Sure of itself. I could feel the author stepping into herself, allowing her mistakes to breathe, letting her passion shine through, and I thought for just a moment that that’s what I want. I want to be who I am, nothing more and nothing less. Maybe that’s why so many of these queer memoirs and non-fiction books are hitting for me this month. They’re proof that whoever you are, especially as a queer person, you are creating history in your wake. Your words have power, even when they feel insignificant. And I’ve always believed that my story is important, it’s why I’ve been a writer for most of my life, but sometimes I forget that the boring life I lead isn’t so boring when looked at from an outside lens.
The firefighter show I’m watching (9-1-1, the one with the recent bisexual awakening) is not one I ever thought I’d commit to. To me, procedural shows were always reserved for Saturday afternoon binging marathons on USA in our basement, and I never considered watching something like SVU from front to back. But I think I needed to find this show right now because it showcases humanity in such a nuanced way. It shows a group of broken people who are desperately trying to find security, to love and be loved, and they’re all connected by their desire to do good. Somehow every episode makes me cry, and even though it’s a rather silly and sometimes dark show, it gives me hope that everything’s going to be okay.
I’ve been so bogged down by my own brain lately that it’s been hard to appreciate all the joy I’ve been given. My (almost) sister had her first baby this week (she’s adorable, I love her already) and in two weeks I’m going to a cabin in Ohio to celebrate my best friend’s upcoming nuptials (not a bachelorette, but a wedding party party, or WPP). My other best friend graciously listened to me talk about my demand avoidance the other night while we both lamented that life is just really hard right now and we want to be clouds instead of people, and I’m seeing a bunch of fun concerts this month with some really great friends. I was nominated for a small business award for my photography biz with Inclusion Tennessee! I get to listen to an infinite amount of music thanks to Spotify! I am flossing regularly and using mouthwash again! I ordered a brand new alarm clock so I don’t have to use my phone in bed anymore! I have to remember that life is worth living!
If I say it enough times, maybe I’ll start to believe it.
For when I need to remember that life is worth living:
Read a memoir
Read an old favorite
Read literally anything that will bring you joy
Call mom
Go out to eat and let yourself spend the money without feeling guilty
Don’t get out of bed immediately when your last alarm goes off
Plan a trip to the movies
Tell your best friend you love them
Listen to this song - “It’s just a phase, it’s not forever”
Allow yourself to wallow
Stop looking for meaning in everything
Say yes to that big get-together you just got invited to
Pet your friend’s cat
Clean something, anything, everything
made it worth being here.