It seemed to me, "Well, these are Real People! Maybe I could be like them and then I will be a real person, too!" Plus, look at them. They're amazing.
They liked all the things the Religious Right scorned: women's autonomy and rights; all the sex; thinking for oneself instead of blindly following male leaders; gay people; immigrants; poor people on welfare. It was like this whole other world, one that had always been barred to me.
I jumped in, desperately wanting to fit in with my new friends. I'd never had this kind of best girlfriend before, and now I had two, and we were inseparable!
In my effort to find personhood and fit in with my new friends, I think I did things I would not otherwise have done, talked about things I would otherwise not have discussed. They gave me courage. They also picked up the pieces when things didn't work out as planned.
(I was obviously Taylor Swift in this scenario)
Some of that was really beautiful. Most of that was really beautiful. But underneath it all there was still this yawning hole of person-less-ness in me. Where once a primary caregiver with rage issues and a personality disorder had definitively told me what was Right and Wrong, now two equally passionate -- if slightly more balanced -- women of strength and conviction told me what was right and wrong. And I just went along with it all, because I wanted to fit. I wanted to feel like I was a part of something.
I started changing. I got my nose pierced. I began growing my hair out. I started wearing kimonos and feather earrings and shopping at Free People and practicing yoga. I thought maybe if I did all the things my friends did, I would be as sexy and confident and free! -- all the things fundamentalism had stolen.
A couple of months ago, Beyonce and I were talking. I said, "I am changing. I got a tattoo because you are covered in tattoos. I got my nose pierced and took up yoga and feather earrings because Shakira likes those things. Do you think I've affected you in any way?"
Beyonce paused. "Sure," she said eventually. "We pack lighter now for trips. That's all you."
I know she didn't mean anything hurtful by it. And maybe if she thought for longer, she could have come up with some things they'd adopted from me. But it felt like I had irrevocably changed myself -- tattoos and nose holes don't just disappear -- and that I would keep on changing and morphing, trying to become like my friends so I could have their freedom, until one day there was nothing left of me, whoever Me was.
To be honest, I don't really know what happened. I think it's that my desire to be a Real Person with Real Thoughts caught up with me. I realized in this jarring moment as I was leaving a bar one night that I didn't agree with anything I was hearing -- and that even if I did, there was no way I could ever attain it because of my shame. I had tried so desperately to fit that mold, that they thought that was The Real Me. But really, it was me trying to belong. I can see why someone would feel betrayed by my suddenly freaking out and stepping back. But in my mind, it was like this:
I was in pain. I hurt. I didn't exist. I had tried to be brave a couple of times and say, "You are doing XYZ and I hurt when that happens." But eventually I thought, "If I loved the right way, I would stop trying to hem in someone else's experiences because they hurt ME. I would step back."
So I did. Or I tried to. I was in such discomfort that I didn't think through long-term ramifications. I knew I needed to not feel the way I did, I knew I needed it to stop. If speaking up for myself didn't work, I needed to try to draw back a little bit.
I just didn't expect the fallout from all sides. I never meant to betray anyone. I tried a couple times to connect, hoping to be heard, hoping a friend would look in my eyes and try to understand my pain or my motivation. It didn't work out very well.
So here I am now. I am a woman in my late 30's, trying to figure out what she thinks, believes, feels, and wants out of life. I have come to the understanding and realization that I will follow any leader who presents herself, healthy or not, until the dissonance between my emerging beliefs clashes so blindingly with hers that I panic.
That's a hard thing to live with and to understand.
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