Your first thought: Who is this “Stella” and I mean..how many of them are there? Hmm…’cause I know zero Stellas except that one chick from the movie with the badass braids and muscle for days!
And I obviously know you thought this ’cause I’m psychic. And come to think of it I forgot to add that to my “About Me” section. But Shit. That would demand a 7,653,679th edit to that brainfuck and there are more pressing matters to deal with at the moment. So let’s not lose focus here.
Randomly so, I’ve deemed Stella a fictional, Universal representation of any and everyone who may feel that they can relate to the subject matter of this post. I have labelled you all as Stella because well, at the end of it all… homegirl did get her “groove back” and that my friends, would be the underlying goal.
In retrospect, Daenerys Targaryen would have been my ultimate choice, but I’m just too emotionally involved with Game of Thrones at this point in my life and The Mother of Dragons, is a kingdom herself who demands respect, and her own post.
I suppose I could have chosen Beyoncé as well but quite frankly, [insert fake yawn here] it’s getting a little old worshipping this chick as the Almighty Goddess of Girl Power. Wasn’t even on my list. I’m over it Bey. No offense.
Stella just felt… appropriate. So let’s leave it at that.
A friend of mines whom I shall refer to as [insert drum roll initiated by Captain Obvious here] Stella (shocking gasps) recently messaged me on Facebook. She had a question. Apparently, a very intimate one. And I, being the nothing-you-ask-can-possibly-shake-me kinda person that I am, bluntly responded with “Do you need a vagina selfie?! Because that’s the only thing that would sorta kinda surprise me so yea…go ahead- ask away!”
As I await her response- I’ll admit to feeling some anxiety. I mean a vag-selfie? What on Earth would she use it for? Is that even a thing now? Anatomical comparisons? Can’t she Google someone else’s? What if someone walks in on me mid-photo shoot? Fuck. Can’t talk myself outta THAT shit-nario now can I? I guess I could always say “I just really wanted to see what was goin’ on in there. No big deal….” and just carry on with my normal activities.
But to my relief, she went on to mention that she has read a few of my blog-posts, and couldn’t help but notice that I’ve been “through some stuff” and requested a full-out, honest-to-the-core answer. Who do I go to? Who do I talk to about these things? Friends? Family? A psych? What is my release? How do I “let it out”? What do I really do when everything just starts cooking itself up… reaching boiling temperatures in my head?
At first, the answer seemed pretty basic and so I responded with the obvious, well- my blog. That’s my purpose in having this blog. IT IS my “someone”. IT IS my “release”. IT IS my psych and my escape and all that good stuff. Granted, not everyone is comfortable with oversharing to the extent that I do. Granted, writing in TMI-prose means that I’m vulnerable to being judged by friends, family, and people who have not gotten to know me well enough to even understand. It means that I have to be open-minded about any feedback, or personal opinions that I’m now susceptible to and that I really can’t even defend myself much because well- I publicly made my own fucking bed. And I’m gonna have to sleep in it. Publicly. And that can get awkward. You know? Creepy strangers watching me sleep?! Meh.
But deeper into the conversation, her question unfolded and revealed its true depth and color. What she really meant was But what about the stuff you really CAN’T share on a blog? What then? And that made so much more sense. I mean she was right! I would never dare publicize my dirty laundry or what happens under the sheets with my hubby on this blog. Nor on facebook. Nor on IG. Nor any-fucking-cyber-where. At least not NOW at 31. I’ve learned from those mistakes, believe me. The consequences of being this ignorant and reckless, are mortifying.
And as a side-note: Listen here Humans- we’re living in an unfortunate as fuck time where everyone is watching and waiting. Waiting for us to stumble; to fall and never get back up; to fail; to look away for just an extra few seconds while they slyly sneak on into our lives and wreak havoc; to tip-toe their way in through doors carelessly left ajar. Don’t you ever set your relationship up to seem vulnerable for any opportunistic vulture-sluts out there. DO NOT underestimate just how envious, capable-of-the-unspeakable, and desperate for attention people have become.
And So her question and the remainder of our talk consisted of this category 6 shit-storm:
WHERE or WHO do we GO to… WHAT do we do when:
- We cannot afford or commit to therapy
- We can’t share the extent of these issues on a blog or Facebook for stupidly obvious reasons
- We just don’t trust anyone close to us enough. Not even family.
- We refuse to “burden” others with our self-centered dramas (though EVERYONE close to us would argue that this is NOT true, we still call bullshit on such claims every single time)
- We are convinced, that NO ONE could possibly understand or relate and it would be pointless
- We are afraid that it may be translated into something that it’s not, and will surely be judged for it.. or worse.
- We NEED ANSWERS to questions so intensely deep that we don’t even know where or how to begin explaining the reasons to which we ever even ASKED them
- We NEED the above-requested answers NOW. Before we lose sight of ourselves and before our families start becoming affected by it.
- We are trying not to implode/explode! How can we figure out which is the right wire? The blue or the red the blue or the red (tick…tick….tick…) blue or red blue or red blue or red….
I completely got it. I just understood her! I’ve been there. Shit. I’m there NOW. The realization and understanding that our inner-complexities can lead us into an isolation so dark… so soul-consuming that it can seem impossible to come back from- is horrifying. Stella is afraid she might be approaching this place. She feels alone, all-over-the-place, and lost in a maze of emotions so baffling and profound that she’s convinced she may not be able to control or conceal them for much longer.
So I had to give her the only answers that I have, as an imperfect, still-going-through-it human. And I wouldn’t so much call them answers but rather, acquired hints from my experiences.
We cannot wait for the answers we “want” or “need” to hear. They will never come. Because we are asking the wrong questions. Instead, we should be searching for clarity and a sense of acceptance. And those two things are Universal answers. We need to come to peace with the reality that asking the unanswerable will only end in slow, torturous, self-annihilation. We need to ask the rights kinds of questions. Instead of Why did he abuse me? What’s wrong with me?! We should be asking Why did I fail to see the signs earlier? How can I ensure this shit NEVER happens to me again? How can I help others?
There is no one-size-fits-all Solution. My peronal “outlet” is this blog. My escape is expressing myself freely, in the form of writing (or typing I guess). Writing is the armour that I’ve been blessed with, to protect myself from myself. Writing has saved my life. Whether it was in a journal with a pen, on a napkin with a crayon in the middle of the night, on a memo app in my phone… it has saved me from the unthinkable.
I cannot tell any Stella out there “WRITE! STELLA! YOU MUST WRITE!”, for all Stellas were not created equal. You have to find something that brings you peace. Something that wraps itself gently around your soul and whispers “It’s ok. You’re ok now” over and over until you realize, that it IS ok. It may be running. Perhaps painting. Singing out loud. Meditation. Dancing. Hiking. Traveling. I do not know but Stella- find that THING that brings purpose back to your life. Find it.
Find something, or SOMEONE you can relate to. Sometimes, reaching out to complete stranger who may be in a similar situation can be more helpful than you imagine. No commitments. No relation to you, or anyone/thing in your life…. Just straight-up sharing, exchanging ideas, experiences and emotions. Maybe an online forum? Or a BLOGGER like myself. But for me, I tend to turn to the books. Here are some that I recently ordered myself/am in the process of reading! I have a “thing” for fresh, “funner” approaches in the self-help category and also…I buy ANY book that has the word F*CK on it.
And now I leave you with this Stellas of the world:
I can only hope our journeys find their ways to the motherland- that place of bliss, peace, understanding, acceptance, forgiveness, and most importantly, self-love. I’m on this journey myself. For I too, have always been and am… a Stella.