I never thought this was where I’d be at 30 – Los Angeles, for one, was a place I tried to get away from as soon as possible. Performing I tried to shove into a bag and hide under my bed for more than a few years. And being queer, and being butch… well, I never exactly abandoned or denied those parts of myself, but I never made peace with the fact that my life and lifestyle left me deeply ashamed in some circles and gregariously arrogant in others.
I’m coming to terms with that now – and it’s fucking scary. I wake up terrified at what I’m trying to do. Nobody in their right mind moves to Hollywood to try and break in as an underrepresented minority. But I’ve always found my way into situations through side doors and back alleys, so I guess this is just one more attempt at scaling the wall and sneaking in. I’m good at being sneaky.
The most painful part, though, is realizing how many years I’ve spent – possibly my entire life – half-pretending to be myself. Half-hiding in plain sight. I can’t take it any more, but this change hurts. It comes down to something simple: I’m learning to like what I like, to know what I know, and to admit what I don’t. I’ve never really dealt with any of that before.
I’m puzzling it out. Sure, when I realized I liked girls I took up that mantle and ran with it. I’ve never been without a girlfriend (sometimes more than one) since the age of 13, and now I’m partnered up for the duration. But I’m realizing now that what I found in the comfort of always having a lady on my arm was the gleaned confidence to be who I am. With a girlfriend, if she liked my style, my haircut, my favorite bands or books, I must have been ok.
At a certain point, however, I stopped allowing myself to have an opinion other than hers, or, really, other than that of whomever I was speaking with at the moment. And that’s where I sacrificed my sense of self entirely.
Part of why I’m with my partner is because she’s the only person I am unable to lie to. And in un-learning the habit of lying, I’ve had to admit those things that I don’t know. Admit that I have no opinion about politics or current music or that TV show or whatever, because I don’t know anything about it, I’m not following that trend, I didn’t see your status update. Because I’ve been too busy trying to be whatever I was supposed to be in any given circumstance, rather than being myself. Because myself is weird, and queer, and butch, and geeky, and you might not like me if I show you that.You might disagree, or think I’m silly. The painfully shy little girl I used to be couldn’t handle that. The still-very-shy 30 year old takes a deep breath.
So, now, painfully, I’m learning that it’s ok if I enjoy something and you don’t. If that’s girls, awesome, if that’s ties, awesome, if that’s musicals and singer-songwriters, if that’s my haircut and not yours, so be it. I can still like it, and it can still empower me. I’m allowed my tastes.
I had no idea I was the only one holding the key to that door. If you think I’m silly for figuring this out now, oh well. (I’m working on being ok with that.)(It takes time.) Thank you for reading, anyway. I’m glad you’re here, it helps ease the fear of waking up.
This is so brave.
I really like this quote: “Because I’ve been too busy trying to be whatever I was supposed to be in any given circumstance.”
I am just starting to realize that I may have been doing that exact thing my whole life too. And in a way this way of being, perhaps it’s some form of a survival/coping strategy (I can only psychoanalyze for myself), it renders us invisible. And what a hard and scary thing to start trying to be seen when you’re used to being unremarked upon. Thank you.
May the Schwartz be with you 😉
This post is so perfect!!! Thank you for writing it. I am getting out of a controlling relationship and in learning why I stayed in it for so long I learned because for me too if she liked it I liked it. I’m just now discovering I do have my own feelings and identity. It’s been very exciting to learn to let myself be me and consider that I might have my own view of the world. Keep up the good work! Take care of yourself.
You are rad.
I love this post.
George Eliot said, “It is never too late to be what you might have been.” Some people come to this sooner than others; some never do at all. It’s difficult to be yourself when society tells you who, or what you are, is unacceptable because it goes against “the norm”. Many of us hide parts of our selves to fit in, and sometimes, aren’t even aware when they do it.
That’s what I did.
If it’s any consolation, you’re doing this now, at 30 (or were, then, at 30; if you see this comment, it’s well over a year later than you wrote this post), and not at my age. I turn 50 in a few weeks. It took me almost 20 years to realize I was trying to live someone else’s life. If being a late bloomer has its advantages, there’s also a corollary: I was much truer to myself when I was younger, and lived my truths out loud. That you have recognized yours, and are honoring them, puts you ahead of the game, even though it may not feel like it at times. So if no one tells (or told) you, good for you. I, for one, am proud of you.
Hi Lyn – Somehow I missed your lovely, lovely comment three months ago – but I wanted to take the time now to say thank you. I am so grateful to have this space to write in and figure things out… I can’t imagine going through this at any other age, but I suppose it falls under “we are always exactly where we’re supposed to be”. So thank you for reading and for your encouragement. I’m working up to writing more regularly again so know there is more coming. 🙂