Who Do I Think I Am?
Who Do I Think I Am?
A human who needs love, that's who
To show up here every week and write you a personal letter is a kind of vulnerability that I have to continually disregard because if I were to analyze it too much, I’m not sure I would ever want to show up here again. Who do I think I am writing about my life like I have something to offer? And worse, who do you think I am? I’m not sure I want to know. February was a reminder of oh how quickly things can shift. The sun burned off the clouds this month, and then the bleakness of gray skies and slick sidewalks returned. Just last week, I wrote about the delight in sharing my work among a creative community that has formed so organically here. That strong sense of belonging has fueled my creativity. But only a few days after publishing that essay, my confidence was shaken by a string of little interactions that left me feeling as if I was a bother and annoyance to those around me. Taking up too much space. Showing up where I’m not welcome.
For someone whose job it is to be somewhat exposed and on display, self doubt can be shattering. The people pleaser in me gives in, gives credence to my projection of someone else’s assumption of me. You are taking up too much space. You are not welcome here. It whispers, if not even your closest friends and loved ones are paying attention, why would anybody else? All I wanted to do that night was shrink away, isolate, and spiral into the familiar narrative of worthlessness.
But I’m learning how to train my mind to not be seduced. And I’m getting pretty good at it. A few weeks ago, I joined my dear friend in watching the recording of
’s class, Writing the Personal. It was about navel gazing, self absorption, and the value of sharing your story and truth. “Writing is the thing that continuously teaches me to be courageous,” Anna said. She went on. “When we hide, we are reinforcing the idea that love and relationships are conditional—enables relationships that don’t serve you and keeps you small.”I am very familiar with making myself smaller—and with believing if I do X, Y, and Z, maybe they will love me more. I do it in real life and I do it here. I do it with strangers and I do it with friends. It’s very human of me. I also think that it holds me back. Not only from the potential for unconditional love from others, but also from unconditional love of myself. Anna weaves in the wisdom of yet another writer, one so familiar with being exposed, Melissa Febos:
“What a terrible predicament: to not know if love is conditional and yet to understand that the only way to find out is to risk losing it. I don’t know where everyone who takes that risk finds their faith, but I know where I have found it: first on the page, where I test those early words, groping for a way to say what I have tried to hide from. Then in the freedom I have found by being seen. Not by the reader, but by my own higher power, by the self that is capable of holding the most pitiful part of my past and loving her clean. I need the idea of audience for this, but the first witness is never a stranger.”
The words are like aloe on a burn. That night, at the top of my spiral slide, I turned off my phone. I curled up on my couch. I embroidered. I caught up on my favorite fashion YouTuber. I journaled. And I started writing this letter.
I returned to myself and the wealth of love I’ve been building within. The sting of being a soft human, of facing rejection and loss, didn’t hurt as much. If I can truly love even the most wounded parts of myself, then external love is but a bonus. Therefore, showing up here consistently becomes less about what you think of me and more about what I think of myself. I won’t let vulnerability destroy me.
With cautious love,
ICYMI: I launched a new series of weekly-ish threads where we can chat, discuss, opine, vent, share, etc. I often feel quite lonely and isolated in my little creative corner, and I wish I had somewhere to share and learn from other people like you. The first thread is about strategies for drumming up business, the second one is a would you rather scenario. I’d love to see you over there!
Latest Stories
This month, I spent a good chunk of time revising a piece that I’ve been working on for more than two years. It’s supposed to appear in print this spring, and I’m really excited to tell you more about it, but I’m going to hold off for now out of fear of jinxing it. Cross your fingers for me.
For Field Mag, I wrote “How the Icelandic Concept Úlpa Can Guide Us Away From Overconsumption,” informed by the 97-year-old brand 66°North
From my archive: In 2019, I wrote a piece for Backpacker about polar bear jail in Manitoba. “They’re totally unpredictable. You don’t know where they’re going to show up.”
March Mood
Monthly Shareables
Reading: I’m slowly getting through Rebecca Solnit’s Recollections of My Nonexistence, but gosh, her writing about violence against women hits too close sometimes that I need breaks. “What is armor after all but a cage that moves with you? All the worst things that happened to other women because they were women could happen to you because you were a woman. Even if you weren't killed, something in you was, your sense of freedom, equality, confidence.”
Wearing: My new favorite outfit formula includes tomato red SeaVees Bodega clogs and these wide cropped & Other Stories jeans
Listening: You can find me dancing in my kitchen to this Shania Twain cover
Watching: A dear friend from college, Subha, recently started a book tube for her latest reads. She’s the cutest and her reading wrap ups are solid.
I’ve watched so many films I’ve loved lately. Past Lives. American Fiction. Poor Things. Killers of the Flower Moon. Self Reliance. Saltburn. Dune 2 is up next.
Making: The BF Bestie Bag, a few thrift flips, and another embroidered table runner. You can keep up with my makes here.
Cooking: This butternut, kale, and brown butter pasta was so good. I used cinnamon and crushed fennel instead of garam masala. And Steve made this nourishing lentil, carrot, chicken recipe from the Salad Freak cookbook.
Snacking: Trader Joe’s nutritional yeast, onion, garlic, and salt popcorn
Thanks for sharing 💖