Listening to kids giggle at the laundromat at 11:30 p.m. on a Sunday is surprisingly pleasant. It’s been another long week and a big part of me wants to talk about how lonely and drained I’ve been feeling, but the smart part of me is going to focus on the good.
The exhibition I’ve been helping out with at the gallery had its opening night yesterday. It was a long 12-hour day spent surrounded by people and making sure things went well, but it was worth it to see the artist satisfied – as much as an artist can be satisfied. Tori came through and told me the vibe was right. It meant a lot to have a friend support the show. She liked the space, the people, and she brought a friend who made me laugh until I cried.
In the middle of the week I hit a weird bump in my mental space that made me feel pretty worthless. It was a feeling I felt a lot in college, caused by things that gave me anxiety. Back then it was the pressure to hold myself to standards I felt I couldn’t: whiteness, social graces of the South, caring way too much about football, frat parties, fucking, whatever. This time it was a mix of things: a coworker stealing money; not sending great emails; the realization I need to work on being professional which, turns out, is hard for a girl who was raised by a family constantly fighting over who gets to do someone’s nails.
I guess that’s what I grapple with everyday. Growing up and out and away from the things and people that have made me who I am, but don’t contribute to the person I want to be. The friends, ideas, and beliefs. If they’re holding me back, then they’re no good. As long as my head is on straight, I should continue to mind my business until I get where I’m going. Even if along that road I’ll make many mistakes, I’ll pick myself up and learn and that’s the point.
A STOR¥ BY ? 