I have missed you, dear blog readers. A lot has happened over the past few months, and while it’s hard to admit it, I will say I haven’t been my best self this past summer.
Lots of good things have happened! My karaoke team came this close to competing in the city-wide finals, I went to the Maryland Sheep and Wool festival with very good friends, I met Neil Gaiman, I drove to Madison, WI to visit a friend, I swam in the ocean. Most recently, just this past weekend, one of my best friends married her long-distance love on a very beautiful fall Saturday afternoon.
Sometimes, even when there are happy things going on, I do not feel happy. It’s the weird nature of brains. The feelings are real, because I am feeling them and they are scary and hurtful, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they are true. They mask the truth, and words or actions from loving and caring friends can’t always make it better.
In this time, I never felt worthless, just small and unimportant. My friends are wonderful and amazing people, and I am constantly awed by their projects and accomplishments; however, this twists itself inside me, leading me to believe that I myself have nothing to contribute to this world. Logically, I know that’s wrong. Emotionally, it hurts.
Friends have sent me hugs and reassurances of my awesomeness, photos of kittens playing, gifs of babies wearing sunglasses, links to this quote from Ira Glass. Some of it helped, some of it didn’t. Then yesterday, My Parents Favorite Music posted a comic to promote donations for the next album, and after crying for about half an hour (dude, like crying), I felt a little better about things. I mean, I know I’m not the only person in the world to feel this way, but somehow, seeing Steff’s comic and how deeply it touched other people gave me the courage I needed to begin breaking out.
I never fully considered this website to be an accomplishment—it felt more like a side project, something I did for fun—but now I’m realizing how quietly powerful and subversive my blogging is. I’m a fat woman unapologetically posting photographs of myself, wearing clothes I enjoy. I don’t snark on others. I don’t talk about dieting. I experiment with styles and colors and new trends and timeless classics and I don’t give a fuck to the haters. Aside from the summer’s silence, it’s the one project I’ve kept up on the longest, without permanent abandonment. It’s a project dedicated to self-love and self-care.
Perhaps sharing my feelings, good and bad, can help others realize that we’re not alone in this world, and ours fears and hopes are shared. It’s not always easy, and sometimes it’s downright scary, but I’m not ready to give up on this just yet.