I’ve been really struggling with my voice lately. I feel like there is so much to say, and nothing I can say at the same time. Having a voice is important to me, but so often I prefer to stay on the sidelines, watching and listening and having all the conversations in my own head rather than out there and visible. Seen.
Being seen is so hard, isn’t it? There is such a vulnerability in being observed by others, known by others. For years and years I’ve struggled with an internal filter that only allows certain things to escape my inner world and make it ‘out there’. This was a battle I fought for years with my therapist, and with myself, a struggle to express what I needed to without sanitising and checking it before it left my mouth, often leaving me with nothing to say at all. I can’t stress enough that this was a process I had no control over whatsoever. Intellectually, I knew there was nothing wrong at all with my thoughts, but I often experienced what felt like a physical block preventing me from expressing them.
There has been a wonderful thread going round on Twitter lately. It has been so fantastic to see so many people share publicly the way that they identify, and what is most important to them about who they are. I wasn’t able to join in – not because I didn’t want to, but because I’m still figuring that shit out, and the thread didn’t need an essay about my (relatively privileged) opinion of myself and how I identify.
I haven’t shared a huge amount about myself on here yet either. If you’ve read some of my posts you might know that I’m a therapist, and that I have a disability. You might also have figured out that I am a creative introvert who loves water, but not much more. Part of that is my need for anonymity, and part is that this blog is in its infancy, and I’m still in the beginning stages of sharing things about myself.
Here is what I know.
I spent most of my life assuming I was straight. I also had the privilege that comes with presenting that way. Lately, I’ve been questioning that, and although I am certain now that straight isn’t the right way to describe who I am, I am not sure what is yet. I’ve also spent a huge chunk of my life seeing things in black and white, and so part of me is done with labels. I don’t necessarily mind if I don’t ever figure out exactly what box I fit into.
I know I care more about the connection, the chemistry and the words that are shared than I do about the way someone looks. (I’ve mentioned before just how strongly words factor in for me as part of attraction and desire). I definitely have a kinky side, though I haven’t had a chance to fully explore that yet either, and I think about sex a lot.
In many ways though, none of this matters at the moment, except perhaps to me. I might want to take the time to figure out more, but I don’t have the muscles to do it. It is one of my huge struggles at the moment, the ways in which my becoming more and more comfortable with myself and my desires has been shut down by my illness.
I don’t know whether I will get my body back, or not. My brain still works though, so I will continue to use it to explore, imagine, fuck and figure out who I am. And whatever my labels end up being, in the end, I know that I will always be exquisite.