Embracing A Big Mess

Sharing amidst the big unknowing

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I’ve been considering why I share and who I’m sharing for as a writer and as someone who shares publicly. I’m thinking a lot about sharing, even when the story isn’t finished. I’m thinking about sharing, even when we’re scared. And lord, I am scared all the time! I am scared of sharing when the experience is different or unpopular than what we are used to hearing. I am scared of stepping outside of people’s expectations! Even though I do it all the time!

I think about our society's carceral and putative nature, but I also understand the importance of accountability and ownership of actions to build community. I also wonder about our warped understanding of what information we are and are not entitled to. I wonder about what is worth sharing and what should be kept close to the chest. I also critique the rush to public shaming people turn to when missteps are taken. I am asking myself about the shame and self-punishment I turn to when missteps are taken.

I am asking myself: Is there room for the messy story? For the “unpopular” perspective? When there are so many “acceptable” versions of an experience, what happens when something “unacceptable” happens? What is even acceptable? Isn’t this just another binary? What if we didn’t let shame lead? Is that story still allowed to be told? Will there be an audience? Is it worth telling?

I grew a following on Instagram over the pandemic, and I’ve long grappled with the responsibility of my platform. I have always tried to share things that are close to me, like destigmatizing mental illness experiences, sharing openly about the realities of OCD, reminding people to take their meds in an effort to destigmatize psychiatric medications, and talking about my chronic illness openly. But I also share resources and action items about different local and global issues that touch me deeply, such as the genocide against Palestinians and the ongoing pandemic that so many are ignoring. I don’t get it right every time, but I try. Ultimately, sharing and telling stories is core to who I am.

A couple of weeks ago, I chose to share on my Instagram that I slept with my best friend’s spouse and ultimately got divorced from my husband after only a year and a half of marriage. There are always nuances and dynamics of relationships we don’t understand. The fact that I slept with someone else isn’t why I got divorced, but rather one of many possible catalysts to what my husband and I both agreed was an inevitable.

News about my divorce was shared publicly without my consent at first, but it was important to me to take ownership of the situation after months and months of months and months of self-inflicted harm, shame, and isolation alongside public speculation, harassment, and cyberbullying. I went back and forth about it a lot, but decided that sharing what happened was the first step in not letting shame lead.

In sharing this information, there were messages, emails, and posts that were mean, transphobic, aimed to misunderstand me intentionally, and downright cruel (which I know I am opening myself up to again through sharing now). Yet, I was surprised at the amount of messages and comments I got from people who had experienced or done something shockingly similar or could hold the complexities of relationships and practice empathy. I’ve had many conversations with people who had almost identical experiences. Indeed, we are never alone.

Sharing about infidelity and complex relationships is always going to activate people. There are people who have been cheated on who I know feel angry at my actions, people in my community who are disappointed to learn about the step outside of my value set, and the overarching societal and cultural triggers associated with marriage, religion, and the “sanctity of God” will seep into our interactions even if we aren’t aware of it. When we see people take certain actions, parts of ourselves will undeniably be activated, even if the situation has nothing to do with us. We are all interconnected, after all.

In exploring sharing, I’ve been thinking a lot about where my impulse to share comes from. I’ve talked with my therapist about the difference between sharing from a Part and sharing from Self. When I share from a Part, I am likely activated and scared of losing belonging, but ultimately, there are Parts that deeply believe my needs, wants, and emotions do not matter. Sharing from this Part, while trying to protect me, often leads to urgency, tenseness, lack of clarity, and binary thoughts.

When I share from Self, I can connect more deeply with my core desire to express and understand myself and others. When I share from Self, I let my needs and wants be known and open myself up to the possibility of being loved, nurtured, and understood. I have a deeper listening ear, more capacity to hold space, and more ease in my body.

I have been grappling with the Parts that led to my infidelity and, even more, the parts that led to my self-abandonment during the months leading up to it, too.

Devin Devine

wrote in their recent newsletter, “I have done a lot of fucking work to be a better communicator and it sucks when you stumble into your own bad habits and don’t realize until you’re sinking riiiiiight in.” There are Parts of me that have been activated for months, years even, and I have not only been sinking but stuck in the quicksand of my bad habits.

Writing, sharing, and telling stories is something I’ve always done, even when I didn’t have a following. It’s just in my nature, and I’m trying to reconnect with it and reconnect with myself. But right now, I’m in the mess. My story is unpopular, and it is filled with people I hurt and disappointed. I am still trying to make sense of where this story began and how it ended, or if it even ended at all.

I’ve been teaching kids creative writing workshops for the last few months, and it’s been really interesting to see how it is absolutely drilled into them that stories have a beginning, middle, and end. I wonder how much we carry this teaching into our lives as we get older and if we are able to embrace the mess that comes with real life. Can we embrace that there is often an ending that feels like a beginning? A middle that takes turns and twists in ways that not even we expected? Or a beginning that was actually an ending to a story we thought had just gotten started?

Something I know to be true about stories is they can be connecting and healing. I am asking so many questions with this Not Knowing that comes from this messy middle. I am not an expert. Can share even if I don’t know yet? Can I share when the thing I once thought was true is no longer true? What different containers hold this sharing? Can we all make space for this messy middle? Can we not know? Can we say that we knew, but suddenly, all that knowing disappears? Is this sharing for anyone else but myself? Is it okay if that’s the case? This questioning feels worth it. This is all life is anyway: A mess. A question mark. A Big Unknowing.

Images by Lora Mathis

Taken by me on a Canon AF35ML

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• Currently reading: Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar

• Currently listening to:

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