I didn’t want to sound too crazy. So I wrote my previous introduction cautiously and with hesitation. Yes, I still pushed the limits, but only so far. Nevertheless, my carefulness didn’t save me from public ridicule. Strangely, being mocked for my writing didn’t initially make me want to stop writing, at least not for more than a few minutes. Rather, it made me want to do it more and better.
Having a chip on my shoulder and/or something to prove has always motivated me.
But if the truth be told, I’m guilty of ridiculing myself too. Often, when I look back on my writing, even if it is just an old Facebook post that pops up as a memory, I’m embarrassed about what I wrote. This is because once I’ve grown, even a little, I can see the immaturity in what I previously said. Why can’t I look at it and also see how far I’ve come? Why isn’t it okay to write badly until I learn how to write better? Why should I have to keep my writing private until then?
That’s like waiting until I’m fully matured to live.
On top of that, I’ve struggled to effectively express the emotion I feel. Thus, my writing sometimes comes out more like a nurse’s note, factual and clinical. So I started pushing my self-imposed emotional boundaries. But once I started pushing, I didn’t want to stop. And then I realized that the thing I want more than anything, is to not care whether anyone believes me or what anyone thinks about my writing. I can just imagine the freedom that comes with that level of not caring, because in at least one area of my life, I have mastered to a high degree, the art of not caring.
That is, I don’t care what anyone thinks about my beliefs surrounding sexuality and gender.
I just don’t care. And I’m so confident in my beliefs around sexual freedom, that if anyone judges me, I simply accept it. This doesn’t mean that I don’t regret past impulsive decisions I’ve made while learning the boundaries of my sexual freedom. It just means I don’t care if you think I’m a sinner. So why can’t I also have this same confidence around woo woo stuff? Why is it so hard for me to be thought of as crazy? Why can’t I be as comfortable being called crazy as I am being labeled a sinner?
It’s because I’m still afraid of the consequences, namely a certain type of rejection.
The other thing of which I’m afraid, is being judged for being too open, for over sharing. Since I have been in the Tenderloin, I’ve been heavily cautioned by well wishers to keep to myself and not tell my business. I’m super aware of the psychological tactics behind choosing to remain mysterious. In fact, I’m a long time student of Robert Greene. I first discovered the author when I accidentally found his book, The Art of Seduction, on the bottom shelf of my new boyfriend’s nightstand. I read it and realized with horror, just how many seduction tactics had been used on me.
To be fair, I’ve also read my share of books on the art of manipulation. However, time has shown me that my strongest desire is to be part of a circle with other open people. Be the change you wish to see. That’s my former mentor’s favorite bit of advice. Ironically, he’s also the same person who told me to hide my past and stop telling people about my childhood. This admonishment came after my boss, whose supervisor he was, reportedly told him that I grew up building furniture with my Amish family. For a long time, that tidbit of misinformation kept me quiet.
My family wasn’t Amish, after all. We were fundamentalists.
And only my father and his father built furniture. It was houses that us kids helped build. But that’s beside the point. What I really want to say is that for a long time, it’s been difficult for me to understand why we as humans are so encouraged to hide and keep private so much of our lives. I understand that it provides an element of either actual or pseudo safety, depending on the circumstances. However, I often think that many people can’t see beyond the false security that comes with anonymity. So when the Telepathy Tapes came out, I felt this strong sense of vindication.
I had always known there were other humans who could see, hear and know beyond the limitations of language.
I think evolution will one day lead us, the collective, to a place where we won’t need to wonder what is or isn’t true. Instead, us humans will have moved past verbal language and into telepathy or an intuitive inner knowing or whatever we’ll end up calling it. Perhaps I’m trying to live in the future. And maybe one day, I’ll regret this openness and over sharing. I might even look back at this blog and wonder what was the matter with me as I ask myself why I couldn’t just sit down somewhere and be quiet. But until then, I’m going to keep talking and pushing the limits.
There is one more reason, though, why I’m willing to bare my own soul and tell my own shame. I have collected the stories of other Tenders. And during those conversations, people have shared awfully intimate details including their insecurities and mistakes. I am afraid of being accused of taking advantage of someone’s willingness to be vulnerable and tell their story. Therefore, I am not willing to exploit anyone else any more than I’m willing to exploit my own self and exhibit my own trauma porn.