In this new year I want to show up as I am. I have been hiding from all of you behind quotes by other people and easy gimmicks that let me off the hook. But I want to become stronger and I know that the way to do that is to show up as I am now. Scared, terrified really, of showing up and sharing myself here with you. I grew up thinking it was not cool to be a woman, that my place in this world was to be the shadow of a man, because as a woman I had nothing of value to say or do. I believed real artists were men, and that I was to keep busy while I supported a man who did work that was important. So now, to prove my belief wrong and to straighten the path and speak my truth, I am here.
My name is J, or Jennifer -my given name- a name that has never felt like me because it is Anglo-Saxon and I don't really feel I come from one place in particular. It’s also name that feels girly and I never felt girly in any way. J feels universal in gender, place, culture and form. I am a strong woman. I am an open human being. I wear my emotions at the front of my body, and they guide my way as I interact with myself and others. I feel life. I feel it intensely and painfully at times. I grew up trying not to feel because half of my feelings were wrong, according to those around me. I grew up trying to be sweet and accommodating. I wanted to be cool and indifferent because I could see the imperfection in all of us. The pain in all of us, the division. And while everyone around me acted as if they were whole, I knew none of us were.
I have let myself break apart in the past few years. I have stopped acting as if I was all right because I wasn't. I was a ghost to myself. I was avoiding myself by trying not to feel what I felt, and trying to be accepted by others. I was crumbling inside because the strength and toughness that had been my banner was false. I was exhausted and I could no longer take care of everyone and act like I had it all figured it out. I could not take care of myself. I could not even care for myself. I was indifferent to my own story, my own pain.
I feel uncomfortable writing about me. Who am I to show up like this? Who even cares? The internet and the world seem to be all about having life figured out. But I don’t, and that’s ok. I definitely don't have it all together, and I don't care anymore. I feel freer now that there is space inside me. I am ambiguous and complex. I am hate and love. I am intolerance and compassion. I murder people in my mind and I also give my life for them. I have no idea what I am doing or where I am going, and for once, that’s ok. I am no one’s pillar, not even my own. I fall apart many times a day and that’s ok. I’m still here.
The hope I have recovered in this journey is that I am chaos and order. Disbelief and awareness. Ugly and kind. The life that comes through me has no shape or meaning, but it keeps me going and seems to choose. I am a girl and a woman, and a man and a daughter, and a wife and a monk and a murderer. I pray and I destroy. I seek connection and run away. I am inarticulate and smart. I create and I am nothing. I am God and a snail, and I meet you here again as me. I will try my best to not hide.
Exposed ring.
Handmade with tourmaline quartz and recycled sterling silver.
Soon in my online shop.
