15 years ago I was making a video every day, and in this one I turned 20. I remember making this video was so scary and cathartic. In writing and filming it I tried hard to be honest til it hurt and capture my ordinary but (to me) sacred habits and places. I was desperate for someone to be fascinated by me (not quite as pure as wanting to be known) and horrified by the rejection or disinterest or critique that could come with it. Sharing these intimacies with strangers felt like the safest next best thing to being vulnerable when it could best heal me. But I stand by it, because through it I did get braver, and I met some of the best people I know (including my husband, which I would've been extremely excited and curious about at 20 hah).
I want growth to mean I see a problem and fix it completely and move on, but for some things it's too scary to make that leap, so I do nothing instead. Maybe doing an only slightly better thing is sometimes best, and at that stage in my life telling anyone these sorts of things was better than nothing. I was lucky that I had only safe and kind people responding. Maybe the best thing I heard was "me too," which was as good for my shame as it was for my pride.
I've grown in 15 years, thankfully, and a lot of it was a process of letting go of the different ways I was taking responsibility for other people's feelings and ideas of me. I hear a lot of that in this video. I also had to learn responsibility for my own feelings, and the ways I used poor mental health as a shield. I had to learn it was my job to figure out how to communicate what I was thinking and feeling (honestly something I still struggle with). I had a lot to learn about the discomfort involved in pursuing the things I wanted -- even just basic mental stability tbh, but also deep relationship. I had to figure out how to believe that more people thinking I'm valuable or special people thinking I'm valuable doesn't make me more valuable or special. But really who am I kidding, 15 years was not enough to fully learn any of that. At 20 I was surprised at how young I still felt, and at 35 I still feel like I'm not as actualized as I want to be at 35. At least I'm less surprised by it now.
My idea of an evolved, fully healed version of myself would give this baby 20 year old a hug filled with compassion, but honestly I still see enough of my current flaws in it to feel some cringe. Even so, I'm grateful to her for doing something brave that broke the cycle I was in.
Man. 15 years. It just isn't as long as you think it will be.
