lextopia

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Archive for March, 2013

I Feel So Much Better

March 10, 2013 By: admin Category: Happiness, Health, Living, Love, Meditation

tasting cake and coffee better

Recently, I was talking to a new friend, a colleague who I’ve only known for a few months, about my goals in life. I was shocked to hear myself say that all I wanted from life was to be a good sister and a good friend. A good person. I reasoned that I had lived so well and so much already that I didn’t look to the future or a dream and say “I’m going for THAT.” The odd thing was that it was all true.

A few weeks ago, at this new job, I was working on a very difficult video. The subject was psychology, specifically, the construct known as “stereotype threat.” This is when a person’s performance on tests or in life is negatively affected if they fear they are being seen and judged as a stereotype. Black, gay, female = stupid, strange, bad at math. In order to understand how to deliver the message in a video I had to go deeper into the complexities of identity. Being the kind of filmmaker I am, I always put myself in the shoes of the viewer and track backward, asking “What do they NEED to know? What would make someone empathetic to what I’m saying?” The key was to communicate that we all have identities that are sometimes attacked and judged, and to use that as a universal. Easy, right? Not-so-much…

In order to help people feel vulnerable about their own identities, I had to feel vulnerable about my own. So I did a searching inventory of how I saw myself, how I “identified.” This phrase was something I was familiar with from the lesbian/queer community, but never gave much thought to. While in company I would tell people that I identified as a lesbian, it always felt false coming out of my mouth. Something in my gut would constrict, as if my body was catching my mouth in a lie. I’d always wondered about that feeling, but had chaulked it up to some unknowable fear and pushed it aside. After all, I WAS a lesbian, so the feeling couldn’t have anything to do with that.

Well…

As I delved deeper and deeper into my own identities, I kept coming up against walls. When I really got honest about How I Identified–which to me meant how do you introduce yourself at parties–I came up with only two things: human and female. After that there were what I called the “2nd Tier Identities:” daughter, sister, friend. But it felt fake and forced and false to go even there, to say nothing of “lesbian, filmmaker, TV producer.” I realized that the feeling at the center of my gut that had always clenched was there not because I might have been secretly ashamed of being a lesbian, but because I actually didn’t have any identities beyond human and female. On the one hand this was liberating–less pressure to “be” anything more specific–but on the other hand it left me cold and alone in a terrifying confusion.

I went to my therapist and told her the whole story. She helped me track back to the core of my being, journey back as far as I could remember and work forward, slowly, identifying along the way. Where I ended up was staring at a bias against gay women that I’ve held since I came out. I told my therapist that I was terrified that when I told people I was a lesbian they would immediately see me as a “fat-assed, cropped hair, mannish, softball-dyke.” Ugly. I told her that I couldn’t stand to be associated with such women, women who seemed to take no care at all in looking pretty.

[Now, I know I just walked into a feminist hornets nest with that one. “Why do we need to be pretty? Men don’t put on makeup (some do), and spend hours primping (some do). Why do WE need to put on a fake face in order to be loved? In fact, it’s a good question. For myself, I like to put on makeup and wear flattering clothes because I LOVE looking beautiful. I LOVE being one of the beautiful, attractive women in the room. And there’s noting wrong with that. Okay, moving on…]

My therapist said: “You have internalized homophobia.” All the blood rushed out of my body. I’d been caught, but I didn’t even know what internalized homophobia was. When my therapist explained it, a series of gears in my body suddenly clicked into place. In that very second, I became a different person. It was horrifying and marvelous. All of a sudden, I was no longer biased, ashamed, or afraid of being a lesbian or of being seen as anyone in the dyke community. A wash of clarity fell over me and I was reborn, lighter.  It was an incredible moment.

A couple of weeks after that session with my therapist I chatted with my dear friend Robin: lesbian, playwright, liver-of-life, partner, philosopher. She’s known me since before I came out and has watched me evolve as a sexual person. She very matter-of-factly noted that, actually, I wasn’t all the way to one side on the sexuality spectrum. She said: “Lex, you can be with guys. You love guys sometimes.” Again, the wash of clarity came over me, but with this one the final gears effortlessly fell in line and I almost toppled over. I’d been so emotionally bent for so long that finally being righted felt wobbly at first. Robin was right. I’m in a grey zone on the sexuality spectrum, and knowing that makes things so much easier.

The difficulties and insecurities I’ve felt my whole adult life stemmed from not knowing this and not giving myself permission to be as I truly was. Finding out how I truly am and then being given permission to be it has been amazing, unforgettable, and freeing beyond belief. I now know who I am and am thoroughly content with being it.

So, I have a third identity: bisexual. I feel so much better.

Complete Well-Being: A Guide to Symptoms & Cures

March 03, 2013 By: admin Category: Faith, Happiness, Health, Meditation, Molly

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I haven’t read as many self-help books as most women my age and in my circumstances, but I’ve been aware of them and aware of how drawn I can become to them when the chips are down. Today, though, after a few days of various revelations, I see the books for what they are: gentle nudges. Sometimes not so gentle. Depends on you and your situation, level of danger of that situation, etc.

This morning I looked up at my bookshelf. This is The Magic Bookshelf. It holds books I’ve been collecting since college, over 20 years. Whenever my life is a confusion, I turn to that bookshelf because I know something will jump out at me that has answers, or that will nudge me closer to that what I need. Today, the thing that jumps out is a 3.5 x 5.5-inch, square mini-book about healthy/healthful eating. “A Guide to Symptoms & Cures.” It reminds me that everything I’m seeing and reading and working on today is somehow–in that same “Magic Bookshelf” kind of way–having direct meaning to what I’m going through at this very moment.

Wouldn’t it be great if “complete well-being” and a discovery of symptoms and cures were this easy to find?

Of course they’re not, and it’s not really the book that gets my attention. It’s the title.

In my situation, I saw and felt the symptoms, but didn’t have the resources to fully understand them or to act to heal myself. I was also totally alone at the time the worst of it was happening. To be honest, though, I can count on one hand the times when I haven’t been totally alone through the most important moments of my life. This is just part of who I am. Sometimes spending so much time alone wears on me, but other times I crave it in order to calm my mind down so I can work, be at peace, and enjoy the world. People, sometimes, can drown out all the life in a place even if they’re not talking. They just suck all the air out of a room.

This month marks 9 years since I fell down the rabbit-hole. It wasn’t a losing of myself as much as it was a sort of inevitable journey of teaching. I needed this to happen so I could understand things better once I came out of it. Today might be the first day of me finally climbing out of it. I can’t tell yet. I’m still in the phase where I’m seeing signs everywhere. Everything has meaning. And my emotional intuition is buzzing and howling like an electrical storm. If someone around me who I care deeply about is in crisis I feel it like their pain is plugged into my vascular system. This is good in that I feel thoroughly less blind, but it can be bad as these signs show me, more and more, what really happened in my past, what I really suffered.

Yesterday, driving home from work in a daze, I started crying uncontrollably. I was terrified that my instincts have been all wrong. All wrong. Since I was a kid. Thankfully, that’s turned out to not be the case. I suffered, I was blind and powerfully naive, but I’m not crazy or unintuitive. Even given the price, knowing that is a HUGE relief.

One of the hardest things to do in life is to actively, consciously let go of something you love. It’s a leap of faith. While your heart is breaking you have to trust your mind when it says “shut the door.” Today, I’m roughly the same person I was when I met Molly, but nine years wiser.