Grief in Three Bodies: A Conversation by Victoria Chang, Prageeta Sharma & Khaty Xiong
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Grief in Three Bodies: A Conversation by Victoria Chang, Prageeta Sharma & Khaty Xiong
Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena
me: self sabotages and fucks up my entire life
me: it’s fine
I think I am a liar
I lie to my friends about my day and the weather
I lie to my lovers about the depths of my affection
Worst of all, I lie to myself about all the things I feel
That one day I believe I might be better
When I know I'll only be worse
Patrick James Errington, from "After All This Small Talk, You’d Think There’dBe No Weather Left"
Sometimes my brain is on fire
It burn with an intensity that kills
Every kind and gentle thought.
It brings me to my knees
And makes me believe
The only way to kill a fire
Is to snuff out all of me
I cut myself into smaller and smaller pieces
Until I fit the slots you and others allow for me
I smile right and look right until I've realized
I've killed of more parts of me than I've kept alive
I've cut myself down into so many pieces
Is this my eye or my ear? How to I build myself up again
Only to cut myself up into tiny, consumable pieces I pick up and break down each season again and again
Until l hate every piece and yet I build myself up again
Killing to build parts until I am the ideal image of woman or man
When I've never felt neither
Bringing myself back together into a flesh that was no longer me, but also no longer gender
I never got that I must belong to one or the other
Yet I've killed so many parts of me that sometimes
I wonder if I removed the parts and pieces of me that are gender
Until I feel no connection to any gender bits that resides in me
Part of me wonders if I was born of hate for the parts of me that may be women
But then again, it never felt right,
Gender was a glove that squeezed me tighter and tighter till
It nearly strangled all the remaining the life out of me
So I cut myself into tiny pieces until I could rebuild into
Something completely different and strange
Building Me into something alien
But closer to who I want to be
My facade will slowly choke and kill all of my mind
I am a pleasant smile while I scream inside
Brené Brown, Daring Greatly
May Sarton, "Of Grief", Selected Poems
Why did you never believe that I loved you
My tongue moved in the shape of my love
My hands and body worshiped yours
And yet you never quite considered me honest
Always so afraid that my affection might be Ever slightly different than yours
The tenderness of my words hit deafened ears
My devoted acts of fidelity seen by blinded eyes
Was I so difficult that you could never
See me
Touch me
Feel me
Believe me
You tested me again and again and again Until all my affection was swallowed up
And tasted like a dry bitter poison
Killing me softly
Until I was no longer me
Until I killed my love for you
my brother’s copy of the goldfinch
kids remind me, often, of the things i've taught myself out of.
i have a big dog. he looks like a deer. he is taller than most young children. while we were on a trail the other day, a boy coming our direction saw us and froze. he took a step back and said: "i'm feeling nervous. your - your dog is kind of big."
goblin and i both stopped walking immediately. "he is kind of a big dog," i admitted. "he's called a greyhound. they are gentle but they are pretty tall, which is kind of scary, you're right. their legs are so long because they are made for running fast. i am sorry we scared you. would you like us to stand still while you move past us, or would you feel more safe in your body if we move and you stay still?'
"oh. i didn't know that about - greyhounds. i think i ... i want to stay still," he said. at this point, his adult had caught up to us. "i'm nervous about the dog," he told her, "so i'm - i'm gonna stay still." she didn't argue. she didn't make fun of him. she just smiled at him and at me and held his hand while goblin and i, with as wide of a berth as we could make, crept our way through.
behind us, i heard him exhale a deep breath and kind of laugh - "he was really big, huh? she said it's because greyhounds have to go fast."
"he was big," she said. "i understand why that could have made you a little scared."
"yeah. next time i - next time do you think i could maybe ask to touch him? when - i mean, next time, maybe, if i'm not nervous."
later, going to a work event, in the big city, i stood outside, trembling. my social anxiety as a caught bird in my chest. i took a deep breath and turned to my coworker. she's not even really my friend yet. i told her: "i feel nervous about this. i am not used to meeting new people, ever since covid."
she laughed, but not in a mean way. she said she was nervous too. she reached her hand out and held mine, and we both took another deep breath and walked in like that, interlinked. a few people asked us - together? - and i told the truth: i feel nervous, and she's helping. over and over i watched people relax too, admitting i feel really kind of shy lately actually, thank you for saying that.
the next time i go to an event, and i feel a little scared, i ask right away: wanna hold hands? this feels a little dangerous. i hesitate less. i don't hide it as much. i watch for other people who are also nervous and say - it's kinda hard, huh?
i know, logically, i'm not good at asking for help. but i am also not good at noticing when i need help. i've trained myself out of asking completely, but i've also trained myself to never accept my own fears or excuses. i have trained myself to tamp down every anxiety and just-push-through. i don't know what i'm protecting myself from - just that i never think to admit it to anyone.
but every person on earth occasionally needs comfort. every person on earth occasionally needs connection. many of us were taught independence is the same thing as never needing anything.
each of us should have had an adult who heard - i feel nervous and held our hand and asked us how we could be helped to feel safe. no judgement, and no chiding. many of us did not. many of us were punished for the ways that we seemed "weak".
but here is something: i am an adult now. and i get nervous a lot, actually. and if you are an adult and you are feeling a little nervous - come talk to me. we can hold hands and figure out what will help us feel safe in our bodies. and maybe, next time, if we're brave, we can pet the dog that's passing.
this is just beautiful from beginning to end
Maybe if I was prettier. Or maybe if I was more horrifying actually
{ Words by Megan Fernandes, from "Fabric in Tribeca," in Good Boys / Silas Melvin, from "Twenty," Grit }
Alysse Kathleen McCanna, from “Success That Is Partly The Results Of Chance; Or, An Uncertain Course Of Events”