I feel bad about a lot of things I’ve done. So many things. Stuff I’ve said, the actions I have taken, people I’ve hurt . . . and for what? So that I could feel better? So I could feel more powerful? So I can find control? Negative reactions to personal anger is just a way to push our pain further down so we don’t have to sit with it, interact with it, feel the sting. And while “just write it down in your journal” and “go for a walk” and “be the bigger person” is all well and good, we’re not wired for that to be our first stop on the higher self train.
I am the queen of pushing away the pain. I’ll take physical pain any day over emotional pain. I love a physical project to replace experiencing emotional pain. I’ll get a piercing to tend to so I don’t have to think about what I’m feeling. I won’t stretch before work outs so that I have to stop working out all together because of a minor injury — because I’m afraid I won’t see any progress (can’t be disappointed and angry by what you don’t do, amirite?!).
But in the spirit of vulnerability and to circumvent a mental breakdown the next time I’m asked to type in a password I’ve forgotten, here are my biggest blunders over the last few years that I think about all the time.
2018 — I moved into a studio apartment that I was not ready to have just so I could ignore the depression that was ruining my life. Like, talk about using a physical nightmare to replace an emotional one. This one I have learned a lot from and went to therapy as a result of doing. I mainly hurt my pride and myself (and my bank account) on this one, but hey…we go through things for a reason.
2019 — I was rude to a colleague/ peer/ mentor/ boss in a meeting, stealing their thunder and moment all because I felt trapped by my situation. Long story short, they were leaving their role and I was so angry because I felt weirdly betrayed by the fact I never saw them at the office or on the team. I was blinded by my own anger of their success and looked at them in the face when the announcement was made and said “Well, you’re never here.” I think about this constantly. Embarrassed by it. Can’t even look at this person on social media. I didn’t want to deal with my own pain (or really understood how to navigate it), and took it out on this person. I’ve apologized, kept my distances, tried to forgive myself, but I’m still very embarrassed by it.
2019 — I slept with people without being truthful to my current partner while in my open relationship. This is a little bit more complicated. Basically, we went on a beautiful vacation together where we said “I love you.” And the week we got back, she wanted to take some space — and I freaked out. I was so upset because I felt abandoned by her love (specifically saying to never say “I love you” if you don’t mean it). So when we got back into a rhythm later that year, all she asked was that I told her when I went on dates and I said I didn’t want to know when she did. I,.being angry and full of ummmm you don’t get to know about my life spite, went on dates and didn’t tell her about them. Cut to pandemic, we live together, the world is falling apart, and she tells me about her pain. I never thought I’d be that kind of person. I never thought I would hurt her (or anyone) so much. It’s been two-ish years and it comes up every once in awhile, we argue, we cry over the scenario, we replay it, we take separate walks to get some clarity…because ya, pain is pain is pain. All I can do is apologies, build trust, go to therapy, and understand where that original pain comes from so it doesn’t happen again.
My psychic (“my” ….I met her once) told me that in a past life, I was falsely accused of something and I’ve spent all my lives trying to make up for it, running down the list of how hard I try, what I did, how I did my best. I do that now. I do it all the time. I’m realizing that it doesn’t sound like accountability…they sound like excuses. I’m working on it, y’all.
Regardless, all of these are reactions pain. Whether the people I’ve hurt in the past or present forgive me, I have to forgive myself so I can move on. I’ve said my sorrys. I’ve replayed each scenario thousands of times. I’ve made my amends, and held my tongue the next time a similar scenario presented itself. I’m not the villain in my story. I’m going to work on forgiving myself now.
Thanks for listening.
Laura
I Fainted At Terminal 5; a mini mini mini essay on control and recovery
Like, fall on the floor, don’t remember what happened, felt like I was in a dark hole surrounded by dirt and moss. I’d like to tell you it was because I drank too much . . . because for some reason saying “I starved myself into thinking I would look less fat in front of my co-workers that I haven’t seen in person” sounds too pathetic to admit to anyone other than anyone who skims through this newsletter.
I could have stayed deep in my subconscious forever. A get out of jail free card warm from my puffer coat and sticky from the Blue Moon floor. I am, embarrassingly, a believer in signs. I felt my grandfather with me, thinking I was dreaming, hoping that maybe I reached further passed the line that crosses into the spirit realm to realllllyyyy trullllyyyyy experience him right there. I wasn’t scared to stay even if I was unconscious lying across the viscous floor.
When I got up, I’m told I said, “but my grandpa.” The moss dried up as I was carried outside into the brisk, cold air. How many calories were in the orange juice they gave me? There are times I think I have it all under control. If I’m not happy, I fake happy. If I’m not comfortable with my body, I find a way to be. If I can’t be near my loved ones, my mind takes me there. But control is a joke, a myth, a fake idea. It will buckle you down in a concert hall on 50th and the water no matter how much you think you can handle.
I must forgive myself for this moment. This terribly embarrassing moment where I had no stability, no core, no consciousness. I have to forgive myself for the shit I’ve done to my body and try next time to find a different way to walk through the pain and not push it down (all the way to the ground). I have to not replay this moment in my head for the rest of my life as some scary “Fat Girl Fell Down” headline. And I have to let it be apart of my life and story, or I’ll be there amongst the moss forever.
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I’m Forgiving Myself By . . .
Trying to find a dominatrix class in NYC and not feel ashamed or embarrassed or unprofessional about this information. I want to do it, it’s cool, it’s hot, it’s 2021. Could I expense this?
Being okay at not being good at everything. Sure, does it send me into a cold sweat thinking about fucking up perfection? Yes. But I’m working on it. Speaking of: Me and my terrible upper body strength would like to take a pole dancing class . . . send me your info.
Not sharing everything on social media. I can’t, y’all. It’s too much.
Not working out so hard to punish my body. Like, does it need to hurt so bad that I can’t do anything the next day? No. It doesn't.
Drinking more water. I was telling my therapist that my baseline for life is that I believe I’m supposed to feel bad, so feeling good it like too extravagant and not deserved. WHY. Why why why why why why. People are out here feeling good. Can’t I feel good?
Being a sad girl. I write poetry that isn’t poetry and has zero structure. It’s cool. Whatever.
Feeling the pain. When I’m in emotional pain, I’m trying to just sit there. I get really still and let my brain go on a roller coaster of feelings. Then I make tea and tell myself, Okay fine, feel better? Almost like I’m letting a child get out a tantrum.
Hey, Don’t Have Sex If You Don’t Want To Have Sex
I don’t want to talk about sex or sex toys or pleasure today. I want to talk about not having it, not feeling it, not wanting to open up your body to another person because, dang, life is fucking hard and sad. AND AS A PERSON KNOWN TO TALK ABOUT THE WONDERS OF PLEASURE, I need you all to know that your value isn’t attached to how you give or receive pleasure. Maybe you need some emotional stimulation. Maybe it’s a mental block. Maybe sex isn’t the connective tissue to how you express love for another person. Or maybe maybe maybe, you’re having a really hard time connecting with your body and can’t give it all to another person. And that is okay.
We need to normalize not having sex. Like, of course…have sex, make a sex schedule, talk to your partner, use neutral language, find the fun in different sexy times, consider masturbating,
Other things you can try to feel intimately connected:
Give your partner a massage
Make them a pasta dinner!
Send them a cute text
Just let them cry.
Be naked together and just feel each other’s skin.
Shift mindset about pleasure — it’s not just about orgasms!
Hold their hand.
Ask for what you want and not what they might want.
Hey, I Wrote A Book!
When I’m not sad girl, I write about personal intimacy! This book is the culmination of the last 10-12 years of my life, my recovery, my pleasure, and feel very grateful I get to share it with the world. Pre-orders in the links above.
Final Thoughts
There can be only one ruler of your realm, and that’s you. Steve Buscemi is invited to mine (so hot. don’t @ me). So do whatever because life is fake and time is an illusion. You’re all cute.
xoxo,
LauraHey Laura is an off-track newsletter dedicated to body image, sad stuff, teeth, joy, poems, sexual wellness, life, butts, confidence, essays, fatness, crying until you're a puddle of DNA, embarrassment, and so much weirdo stuff. note: laura doesn’t take responsibility for your life and actions. she’s just an odd person on the internet that deeply wants to write everything in her heart. some links:
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