When I was 14, I loved two things, and I loved them deliberately. The first was basketball, and the second was the stage. I’m not sure which love came first, but I remember wearing my Kings jersey to middle school, tacking up a Mike Bibby poster to my bedroom door. In my stereo, burned Broadway soundtracks with accompaniment music played on loop so I could practice for auditions.
I needed to read this today more than I could possibly, humanly say.
I'm a few decades into this writing gig. Ten years into it mostly full time in one way or another. And I’m having another period where I’m living not just month to month but day to day. Perpetually in the red. Dancing between paying this and not paying that and what groceries do we need and what can we live without. I'm tired and I'm questioning and wondering why the hell i keep pushing this particular boulder up this particular hill.
And so today a series of events landed me in a Massive Crisis Of Confidence and a few hours of miserable self pity what-a-fucking-failure-I-am tears.
And then I dropped and shattered a whole entire jar of Trader Joe’s pumpkin bisque - and the tears came.
And I shooed the dog away and cleaned up the mess of pumpkin soup and dried my tears and sat down and read this essay. And my shoulders crept down from my ears and my breath slowed and I thought okay, self, you're gonna keep doing this. Maybe not because you believe in yourself so much at this particular moment, but because writing? I feel it in my body. It's the truest version of me. And because i'm still showing up for this calling, even in the midst of this fuckery.
So tonight after i found a different dinner and took a series of real big breaths and listened to Taylor Swift sing about karma - i sat down and wrote. And wouldn't you know it - I think i'll make it another day at least.
So thank you. These words mattered. Very much. To this writer, tonight, they mattered the most.
I've noticed that those of us with trauma or chronic illness tend to suffer from significant negative self-talk, and self-doubt, while at the same time having a tendency to have rigidly, even righteously, held views and opinions which form part of our self-identity. We also appear to be more prone to being affected by other people's opinion of us or of our beliefs and values, and may more readily feel shamed, blamed, embarrassed, wronged when someone disagrees with us. Some of this might stem from not feeling seen and heard in our developmental years, and then since we live on the edge of threat-response stress states, are more easily pushed over that edge through feelings of not being seen and heard, or understood, later in life.
I stumbled upon some of your articles on The Good Trade, which got me here. I feel your writing is very compelling, and I have had some similar experiences during academic days! Thank you for sharing. 🙏🏽
"This is the hard work. Anyone can say, “Yes, I believe in me, I believe in my dream, I believe this is the path I’m meant be on.” What’s difficult is leaning into that truth and then taking a step forward. And then another. And then another."
Thank you for taking that step, Kayti, because it is inspiring me to take my own. My career is hinging on passing an exam, and everyone believes in me. But, I have been the only one doubting myself. And, it has only been in the past week or so that I have begun to believe in myself.
It is true that anyone can say those things about themselves, but I have trouble even finding the courage to say those things. It is part of why I find affirmations challenging because it feels like I'm saying something that I don't even believe in. But, I have heard that speaking them consistently can lead to it feeling more and more true. I know that those things won't always feel true, but words carry so much weight to me. Almost as if saying it makes it true. I appreciate this reminder that the actions that follow matter too and cement the truth.
Was that you I was talking with the other day about wishing my mother wasn't SO effusive with her praise of me on the stage? Because I wasn't that good... but goddam did I love the stage. Loved it. Never got the leads, but loved being up there anyway. That energy. That electricity. Perhaps I'm being too harsh on my mom - she was doing what mother's should do - encourage children in the areas they most love. Anyway, loved this week's essay. You're really coming into your own. This type of writing looks good on you.
"We do this, ultimately, for ourselves. To honor our dreams and passions. To create art and offer it to the world even when the world doesn’t seem to want it."
Heartbreaking yet beautiful. Thank you for your vulnerability and encouragement to us all to keep showing up.
This is a needed and good article —Thank you. I can relate completely. Me too, Theatre Arts 🎭 in high school and I was the main character in my Grade 13th year‼️ The play was: We Have Always Lived in the Castle, by Shirley Jackson, see https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/We_Have_Always_Lived_in_the_Castle I was Mary Katherine.
I needed to read this today more than I could possibly, humanly say.
I'm a few decades into this writing gig. Ten years into it mostly full time in one way or another. And I’m having another period where I’m living not just month to month but day to day. Perpetually in the red. Dancing between paying this and not paying that and what groceries do we need and what can we live without. I'm tired and I'm questioning and wondering why the hell i keep pushing this particular boulder up this particular hill.
And so today a series of events landed me in a Massive Crisis Of Confidence and a few hours of miserable self pity what-a-fucking-failure-I-am tears.
And then I dropped and shattered a whole entire jar of Trader Joe’s pumpkin bisque - and the tears came.
And I shooed the dog away and cleaned up the mess of pumpkin soup and dried my tears and sat down and read this essay. And my shoulders crept down from my ears and my breath slowed and I thought okay, self, you're gonna keep doing this. Maybe not because you believe in yourself so much at this particular moment, but because writing? I feel it in my body. It's the truest version of me. And because i'm still showing up for this calling, even in the midst of this fuckery.
So tonight after i found a different dinner and took a series of real big breaths and listened to Taylor Swift sing about karma - i sat down and wrote. And wouldn't you know it - I think i'll make it another day at least.
So thank you. These words mattered. Very much. To this writer, tonight, they mattered the most.
I've noticed that those of us with trauma or chronic illness tend to suffer from significant negative self-talk, and self-doubt, while at the same time having a tendency to have rigidly, even righteously, held views and opinions which form part of our self-identity. We also appear to be more prone to being affected by other people's opinion of us or of our beliefs and values, and may more readily feel shamed, blamed, embarrassed, wronged when someone disagrees with us. Some of this might stem from not feeling seen and heard in our developmental years, and then since we live on the edge of threat-response stress states, are more easily pushed over that edge through feelings of not being seen and heard, or understood, later in life.
I really enjoyed this essay. I needed to read this at this point in time. Thank you.
I stumbled upon some of your articles on The Good Trade, which got me here. I feel your writing is very compelling, and I have had some similar experiences during academic days! Thank you for sharing. 🙏🏽
Great piece. I too am a meaning maker and deep feeler. This letter spoke to the purest parts of me.
"This is the hard work. Anyone can say, “Yes, I believe in me, I believe in my dream, I believe this is the path I’m meant be on.” What’s difficult is leaning into that truth and then taking a step forward. And then another. And then another."
Thank you for taking that step, Kayti, because it is inspiring me to take my own. My career is hinging on passing an exam, and everyone believes in me. But, I have been the only one doubting myself. And, it has only been in the past week or so that I have begun to believe in myself.
It is true that anyone can say those things about themselves, but I have trouble even finding the courage to say those things. It is part of why I find affirmations challenging because it feels like I'm saying something that I don't even believe in. But, I have heard that speaking them consistently can lead to it feeling more and more true. I know that those things won't always feel true, but words carry so much weight to me. Almost as if saying it makes it true. I appreciate this reminder that the actions that follow matter too and cement the truth.
Was that you I was talking with the other day about wishing my mother wasn't SO effusive with her praise of me on the stage? Because I wasn't that good... but goddam did I love the stage. Loved it. Never got the leads, but loved being up there anyway. That energy. That electricity. Perhaps I'm being too harsh on my mom - she was doing what mother's should do - encourage children in the areas they most love. Anyway, loved this week's essay. You're really coming into your own. This type of writing looks good on you.
"We do this, ultimately, for ourselves. To honor our dreams and passions. To create art and offer it to the world even when the world doesn’t seem to want it."
Heartbreaking yet beautiful. Thank you for your vulnerability and encouragement to us all to keep showing up.
*Blushing* over Big Feels being included in your weekly feels. Thanks, Kayti. :) Also, gorgeous, resonant words in this newsletter, as always.
this newsletter splited my brain . I had to read it over and over to feel better
This is a needed and good article —Thank you. I can relate completely. Me too, Theatre Arts 🎭 in high school and I was the main character in my Grade 13th year‼️ The play was: We Have Always Lived in the Castle, by Shirley Jackson, see https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/We_Have_Always_Lived_in_the_Castle I was Mary Katherine.
https://anjuanand.substack.com/publish