This is a brainstorm. Which is my half-assed apology for not having anything totally coherent to say. I’m exploring, I’m learning, I’m — okay, yes– “leaning in” to this. This— I could call it anger, or frustration, or an aggravated boredom. I’m not sure. It’s a feeling and I’m feeling it.
It’s the opposite of when I feel like I’m holding myself back, suppressing emotion. It’s what I feel when I want to feel alive and am holding back instead. So part of it, maybe, is frustration at myself for holding back. It’s the anger I feel at myself when I intentionally make myself small, or quiet, or pretend to not know things that I know.
This is the part of me that wants to feel alive and strong and brave and smart and this part knows I am capable and efficient and intelligent and can do so many things that I am anxious about. This part of me is confident– this part has a tendency to get cocky– but this part also doesn’t really give a shit about what other people think. This part of me says things like “I don’t give a shit what other people think.”
This part of me wants to be one of the guys. This part of me likes drinking beer and eating burgers. This part of me doesn’t care about emotions because this part of me knows that not everything is personal. This part of me is masculine. This part of me loves being gay because it is just so honest and real to find women beautiful.
This part of me was so happy as a kid when I wore Power Ranger Velcro sneakers and ran around with the boys. This part of me shifted from third- to first-person narration in creative writing and began writing from a male voice in elementary school. This part of me wore a sweater vest in my fifth grade school picture. This part of me got very, very buried in middle school and high school; this part of me got shut down when puberty hit and gender became a difference that mattered. This part didn’t know where to go so she tried to make herself very, very small and hide.
I know this part is about gender. This part is about all the things I believe I am not “supposed” to be. This part feels rebellious, but she’s not, not really. This part very much needs to be seen and heard. This part needs a voice. This part is writing this blog post right now and it feels good about it. This part of me listened to angry Amy Ray on her walk home because that’s the type of music that validates this part.
How do I integrate this part more? How do I make sure this part gets her voice? I’m going to work on brainstorming. This part does not want to feel small and hide. This part desperately needs to be alive.
Amy Ray w. Brandi Carlile- Stand & Deliver