Jen just jen

full :: transparency
2018-09-17 01:39:49 (UTC)

fun is a serious thing.

And maybe being serious is a fun thing.
I've worried for so long that I'm the type to take life too seriously. So I haven't thought about the whole of my life entirely. I've divorced myself from the whole picture [college] because I just want to figure out how to live in the present moment.
But I already know how.
I just want answers for the future (and past) so bad sometimes, but that can wait when I remember my job is only ever to have fun. Bringing light into the world is the highest honor and the funnest one. It's my secret I keep to myself; it's my mission and my smile.

I just worry about me, when all is said and done. I worry like the rest of us about who I am. Because I know I am lost. I don't know a good many things. I think I pretend to not know because I don't want to. Or am afraid.
How can this be fun.?

I suppose I try so hard to disrupt these negative feedback loops in my mind with the forgetting the larger picture. Living in the moment. Shaking it off. But I'm still lost. I still have to face things. Just, lightly, and in my own time.
I can do this.

I think, I think I'm gay. Maybe only partially so, maybe entirely. I don't know. I know it's a fact about me I stuffed down way long ago when I knew I wasn't ready to face that scene. Showing up in life as a 'gay' person. I didn't want that label, I never do. especially as a lesbian; for some reason there's a stigma even I can't shake.

But maybe it's not the sexuality that's the issue but my concept of what sexuality is. Like, honestly, these midwestern conservative family values have got me fucked up. Because I forget how to be in touch with my body. And human to human contact is the most natural thing. But it's become so foreign and hard for me to allow myself to do. Even just accepting a hug.

I've listened to so many progressive podcasts and things and they've touched me deeply and one thing that stands out for me is when people think of 'gay' person, they immediately skip to the idea of to people having sex in bed. Like that's what being gay is all about. (isn't it?)
But the sex part is really in afterthought in any relationship. Okay, not an afterthought, but it's at least a secondary part of attraction.
Attraction buds from other things in a person- like personality, or chemistry. Attraction isn't ever about gender really.
Being attracted to girls in that way anyway sounds like an inconvenience sex-wise. But I guess you just don't choose these things, and really sex isn't about procreation as much as it is about intimacy so right? maybe it doesn't matter.

If anything, it's harder for me to let myself be feel attractive around or find attraction in dudes just because of the heteronormative ingrained ideas I have which screw things up for me. Like, 'sexual performing' is a ted talk aout how girls are groomed from a young age to be constantly conscious fo the way they look around guys and I feel like on some level that interferes heavily with the way I think about guys.
And things in general. Like I didn't spend enough time in my formative figuring out how to be proud of my character as a human being and instead learned how to apply eyeliner and match my clothes expertly and keep my hair straight.
All of things are alright, but they don't matter to me like the self confidence I'm lacking.

I just want to be a proud person, and when I trace back my steps to the last time I inhibited some proud-person thinking, it was before I realized I might be gay. And then instead of facing that next part of growing I let myself get ashamed and just slowly started living my life as an apology to who I could be.
And I don't want to be that way, but I find I'm already sorry I'm not.
And I can change.
if I want to . .

I wish being with Ethan made me want to change enough for me.
I wish it did.
it did. for a minute. But right now. Right now I don't feel real.
And it's heartbreaking but maybe my heart is already broken. Because I don't feel much except an echo of who I could be that I have to ignore just to keep existing.
I would fall apart if I didn't.

And I think I've said this before but I know I'm deeply angry. It's the same anger I see in Zack. Not the cousin but the coworker. I keep this rage balled up inside and take it out on myself, but sometimes I know it's not right and it comes out in other ways.
It's enough anger to propel me into another state of being, but I just don't know how to assert myself. And I'm afraid.
I'm afraid a lot.
I say that a lot.

I just don't know how to talk about these things. How do you bring up the existential dread in casual conversation, or the deep regret you have for the life you haven't lived? Or if you do, how do you find somebody who wants to (or knows how) to talk about these things on the same level as you.
I suppose it takes some searching for the right kind of person and the right kind of time and conversation.
And it takes a taking care of myself. I can't hate myself and also give myself the opportunity to speak openly about the things I need to heal.
And maybe practice.

I know that having fun in life is the most important thing for me. But, you know, a justified kind of fun.
Which can be hard when you're aggressively trying to become a better, prouder human being. But throwing the rules out the window when things get too tense is allowable too.
This next phase of my life I haven't quite figured out it's intentionality, but I think it looks something like that. Growing. On my own.
Without my parents. And finding out how to take pride in the person I'm being.
Even when it's hard.

I need a hug, I feel. Almost every moment of every day I feel empty and alone. It's called depression, they say.
I say it's called you don't know me like I know myself. It looks a lot more like suppressed self hate, and years of using technology as a way to escape the present. It's called a weakness of being unaccustomed to living life, and the broken frame of today's society teaching me to keep my weaknesses hidden.

So I write because somehow when I turn to a pen and paper or a computer screen nothing sounds so inconvenient to my brain anymore that I can't type it out for at least to figure out more at a later date.
Maybe this ramble has been incoherent or just plain ramble, but I don't care. It feels good to have myself to listen to finally, and not be stuck in the endless loop of hating myself for subconscious reasons I've suppressed.
Maybe it's not all my family that started this downward spiral, maybe I've just been supremely unlucky in life.

And here I was thinking I've always been lucky and just been stupid with my luck.
Or maybe it's both.
who knows.




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