no need to grow 🌀
maybe going in circles is the way life's supposed to be. why not celebrate the fullness and roundness of life?
Life’s stories are always prone to disruption and digression, thwarting the neat storybook narrative we love so much.
Almost all of our stories follow the same basic pattern: beginning, middle, end: exposition, action, and climax. It’s a neat and tidy way of telling a story. But life’s not like that, is it? It doesn’t obey the rules. Life’s stories—like the stories told here —are punctuated by disruption, derailment, and digression.
Stories where the good guys lose. Stories where the bad girls win. Stories that just stop in the middle. Stories that fizzle out or simply never get going. Stories that don’t make sense. Stories that start where they should end and end where they start. Stories that go round in a cyclical loop, forever. Unfinished stories. Unstarted stories. Stories that stutter and mumble, that cough and splutter.
So… I’ve been messy with my emotions these past few days. Messier than usual and I mean this in a teasing-myself-kinda-way. Maybe that’s what traveling does to the soul. Daily tears are not unusal for me. It’s almost as routine as washing my face but…
I hadn’t noticed how much repressed rage I had, until my anger just came spilling out of me like boiling water. However, it was a very loving kind of rage. The one that wants you to see how deserving you are and that how you were treated wasn’t what you deserved. So I stand by my rage, even if I risk sounding bitter. it had taken a while before he could see the bitterness in it. may liked bitter experiences more than sweet ones. bitter experiences allowed him to stay awake. only sometimes they made him drunk.
Being part of an oppressed group and speaking out about injustice always includes the risk of sounding bitter. It sounds much more noble when you can say: “I’m not doing this for myself at all. I’m just supporting this cause from the generosity of my heart, because I’m such a kind person.” It’s harder to say: “This shit affects me. It hurts me. I’m hurting. Can you show up for me? Can you care about my suffering?”
All throughout my life, I’ve been in the caretaking role in my relationships. I’ve poured my entire heart out and mopped floors with it, just so that other hearts could have a clean place to land when they fell. The problem with being “selfless” as an oppressed person — not to say that I occupy a position of “pure” oppression — is that the world misses out on you. It misses out on your ideas, your ingenuity, your creativity, your wisdom. It’s not that selfless to be selfless. When you are without a self, you have nothing truly of yourself to give. You’re merely reproducing existing structures. In order to break out, we have to recognize the prison for what it is. People around me are going to hear no a lot more often from me, because I want to give an authentic yes. As my will to create increases, my capacity to be a perpetual caretaker decreases. I’m going to disappoint a lot more people moving forward and it’s gonna be okay. We have to want more of — rather than for — ourselves. That doesn’t mean we have to become careless, and, it doesn’t have to mean more of the same…
Wanting more of ourselves? By that I mean: How much space have you given yourself to just be you? How much do you allow your story to unfold as it needs to, to stutter and mumble, cough and splutter? Are you solely comfortable in the roles that you get validation for?
Have you tried out different roles? How did that feel compared to before?
Nothing is a given.
It’s not a given that I’m in Lisbon right now. It’s not a given that I met an adorable interracial couple from Brazil in the shared flat where I’m staying who quasi adopted me. It’s not a given that they’ve shared their food and stories with me, sometimes talking and eating for up to three hours. Eu adoro o sotaque brasileiro. It’s not a given that they’ve invited me to celebrate her birthday with them and go out together. It’s not a given that she’s queer too and that he has a queer sibling and I therefore am safe to be my queer self. It’s not a given that they’ve shared their experience growing up in the favelas with me. It’s not a given that they’ve shared insight after insight around racism and colorism in Brazil as well as Portugal. It’s not a given that we share culture through my Yorùbá ancestors and their Candomblé faith. I had to carve out space for this experience and trust that taking a risk was worth it. I didn’t really know where the money for this trip would come from at the time I booked the flight. It’s not a given that money did come when I needed it. It’s not a given my creativity pays me. It’s not a given that I have a generous family who sees my healing contributions to the family as worthy of compensation and who for the most are understanding around my inability to live a “normal 9-5”-kinda life. I’d be homeless if not, or living from couch to couch, as I see so many of my trans friends do. It’s not a given I’m here at all.
This might be a good point to plug that I have a mutual aid group where we help a Black trans woman in Spain pay her rent. She’s a friend. It goes to her community too because her home is a place for other BIPOC trans women to stay for free. Everyone contributes anything from 5€ to 25€ per month. We’ve been doing this for almost a year and have redistributed 2825€.
You can join our mutual aid group. Just shoot me a message here. We’ve just had the month with the lowest contributions since it started. I believe everyone is a bit tired and also financially exhausted. The people contributing mostly aren’t rich. Just people with a big heart.
Life is full of contradictions.
The more I let go of the caretaking role, the more energy I have to care. Care is our baseline, so maybe we should worry less, if we are caring enough. Creativity is our baseline, so maybe we should worry less, if we are creative enough. Growing is our baseline, so maybe we should worry less, if we are growing enough. What if we just need to return to ourselves, our baseline, over and over and over and over again?
Maybe going in circles is the way life's supposed to be. Why not celebrate the fullness and roundness of life? Our lives are worthy of celebration. Every mis*step of the way.
Something I’ve been telling myself to carve out space is: “I don’t need to grow today. I don’t need to get likes or subscribers today. I don’t need to write today.” What in your life requires a “I don’t need to…” in order to let go of expectations and pressure?
Love,
Imọlẹ
PS: If you can, use Ecosia, instead of Google. I do too. For the Congo! ❣
PPS: It’s a tiny action, but it’s not nothing. Stay informed. Plug in. Gently. ❤