Blogging like this feels like an inherently selfish act. That’s where I find difficulty in the process. Other than for the purpose of my own reflection what will other people get out of this? I am trying to write things that other people can benefit from and learn and find value in.
The last month has been what feels like for the first time in a long time, I am settling into life, and a job, and friendships. For three years, it has felt like I have been in constant transition, constant movement without rest. The last month I have experienced loss, grief, loneliness, financial hardship, emotional hardship and yet I finally feel as though there is settling. I feel comfort in this settling too. I don’t feel lazy or not good enough, I feel like I have found people that understand without explanation. I have found people that understand rest. I feel like I have comfort in stillness.
I have felt precious about my writing, like once it is in the world people are judging these stream of consciousness writings. Funny that I felt precious enough to assume people are actively reading and interested in them enough to judge them. Assuming my writing mattered enough for people to have strong feelings about it. The way I got over this preciousness and guarding of my writing is I realized I wanted people to know that I was here. Not because I want people to know WHO I am. Because I want them to know in 2022 with all the intersections in my identity, I was here. I existed in the arts space. I found joy. I thrived. I suffered. I was loved and felt love in return without feeling like my disability was an asterisk on my experience. Proof that not despite of it all, but with it all I was here.
Maybe this isn’t an inherently selfish act. I want other people to know through their multiple intersections of identity there is a way forward. If this act of writing provides that than I know there is value in it. I didn’t exist in the world able-bodied people built to exclude us. I started building a world where I could exist in the multi-faceted way all people do. I hope the people that come after me don’t have to build, I hope the world is built for us to exist in. For now, this writing is proof we are here. In case you missed me, I experience and continue to experience life with a full heart.
-s.g.
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