I hate birthdays – mine, in particular. It’s just a reminder that I’m getting older – that another year of my time on this earth has passed. And you definitely don’t feel any different than the day before (my grandmother ALWAYS asks me that). (more…)
Posts Tagged ‘Fear’
Waking up in my bed on November 9th, I didn’t have to check my Facebook to know how the election turned out. I felt around me, how everything seemed to be covered in an invisible layer of slime, including myself inside my quiet cocoon of my room. I heard in the rain hitting my window, almost as if the earth was crying. (more…)
Posted in dating, disability, election, heartbreak, LGBT, politics, society, Uncategorized, visibility, voting, tagged amerikka, crip time, education, election, Fear, future, jobs, queer time, trump, ugh, uncertainty on November 24, 2016| Leave a Comment »
There have been interesting parallels between our class discussions around queer crip time and my current life. This has only become more obvious post election as I scramble to rework my five-year plan. I am not sure how much to share because while I am a very open person there are some aspects of my life that I prefer to keep private.
Posted in body politics, gender identity, normal bodies, transgender, Uncategorized, tagged cosmetic surgery, Fear, gendernonconforming, mental illness, murder, natural, suicide, transgender, unnatural, violence on October 25, 2016| 2 Comments »
Having been around various forms of sex work I have become quite used to cosmetic surgery. I spent a lot of time drawing parallels while reading Susan Stryker’s “Frankenstein” piece. I think about the times in which we allow ‘unnatural’ bodies to coexist peacefully and when we view them as threats. (more…)
I was sitting here in the library, realizing that Sunday is way past when this last blog was due, riddled with fear and insecurities. To be perfectly honest, that is how I have felt this entire semester sitting in class. Tangled in fear, feeling incredibly inadequate and extremely confused as to why someone like me was sitting in a class full of incredibly complex thinkers… Maybe I should explain why…
I have to say, there is something incredibly inspirational about some of my classmates. A majority of them seem to be very comfortable and open with talking about bodies. It’s amazing how some people have this ability to say what they feel, and not only that, but say it in such a way that is full of sincere conviction.
This is not something I have, which is why these posts are such a nightmare for me.
I am the internalized body. I am the churning and stewing of the abstract held together in skin. I’m bad at voicing things about bodies at all. Who am I, anyhow, to even have an opinion on someone else’s body? Or to have a general thought at all? The internalized body doesn’t think this way, no, it is far more concerned with eating away at its own guilt.
The good thing about the internalized body is that it can live off its own energy. Far too concerned with the inner demands of self-regulation, constant calculation and extreme analysis, this body comes off aloof and unaware to other bodies. Unless, perhaps, this body dares to compare itself to another body leading to a subsequent re-analysis.
The internalized body is a shell that doesn’t leave room for leakage. It’s a product of its environment, no matter what the substance is inside. This body is never going to let you in on a fear or a worry. No, this body is wound snug. If one thing gets out, the mess will follow, so its better to keep it all in. This body is here to please and protect. It’s a paradox of looking the part on the outside while keeping the true body on the inside safe.
I wish I could be that true body. That fearless, open, wonderful body. I wish I could be the body that moves and shakes, dances and achieves, doesn’t aim to please and doesn’t mind to offend.
Alas, I am the internalized body. And I need to keep it all in.