Anybody know a writer’s equivalent to the old saw about conquering stage fright by picturing your audience in their underwear? Hmm…
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I am deeply grateful to The Manifest-Station for publishing my essay “Body Lessons,” about girlhood, shame, sexual violence, and recovery (revised from a earlier blog post). Also deeply grateful to any and all who read and support my work.
Please know I am picturing all of you in your underwear at this very moment.
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After my divorce, I began a long and agonizing journey to reclaim my own sexuality. (continued…)
Psychosexual autobiography…. I think I need to write one. Even though the idea won’t be original. Even though it may never see the light of day, let alone be posted on my blog. Even though even the fleeting idea of stringing all those memories together terrifies the crap out of me. Thank you for writing this, not only to give me the idea, but especially to help me find the courage. …Yeah, I think I need to write one.
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Oh dear, is this a “psychosexual autobiography”?? I suppose…you’re probably right. Though that sounds like perhaps an odd thing to have written, doesn’t it.
Regardless of name: Yes, you should go for it! Write it all down! You can never be sure what the patterns will reveal until you capture it all in one place, all at one time. I’d go ahead and post it next, obviously, cuz that’s who I am. And cuz I think such self-exposure provides its own fascinating insight into all of one’s persisting anxieties, if nothing else. 😀
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As I search assiduously for my underwear (non-existent – upper or lower), I consider the self-sex regime. The absolute necessity of relieving the ‘body’ of the unbearable tension. How we choose our self-sex is based on all the things that have led up to that moment. Sometimes the pain is necessary, in that mind that has been bent and twisted and warped by outsiders, just to ensure we can still feel something, anything – and then un-feel it.
Each step you take on your journey is a moment I share with both sadness and a tiny tinge of joy – sadness at where it came from, and joy that it is now free and working towards something more complete, real, you.
I still cry. Words can sometimes fail to express the whole of what I mean.
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Thanks! And may I just say:
In the realm of sentences, “As I search assiduously for my nonexistent underwear, I consider the self-sex regime” is surely a king among peons.
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Oops!
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??
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Congratulations! And maybe I AM in my underwear. Rockin’ the granny panties, maybe.
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I wouldn’t imagine you any other way! Except perhaps: in granny panties AND ALSO attended by reptiles.
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That last part goes without saying. And the reptiles are ALSO rocking the granny panties.
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But of course!
All except this caiman, who I’m sure wears MUCH NICER underdrawers than granny panties. (Certainly much nicer than mine!) http://petapixel.com/2016/09/17/photo-caiman-wearing-crown-butterflies/
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I SAW THAT! I love how deeply unimpressed it looks.
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I know!! I wish I could give side-eye that shady…
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Like he’s double-dog daring someone to make fun of his bling. Have you seen this video? You need to see this video. This girl. I heart her.
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YES!!!! zomg YES. This child is my new Patronus.
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My husband hugged me so hard. Because this kid is me. I heart on her so hard! May we all find that kid within us.
Also, have you read “Dumplin’?” If not, you must.
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No, but I’ll put it on the list!
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It’s the book I needed when I was growing up. I DEVOURED it in a day. So incredible and wonderful. It’s for all of us who were taught that fat people don’t deserve good things.
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I want to be her.
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Me, too. She captures my spirit beautifully.
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Your piece is just so everything. Thank you for existing, and for writing.
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❤ thank you for this, butch. and thank you for existing too.
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<— Wearing men's boxer briefs. I'm old school.
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Gotta love a traditionalist!
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Congratulations! I remember the first time reading so many of those words and feeling/remembering my own experiences exploring sexuality, but mostly feeling for you things like sadness and anger that you should have to experience, or have to overcome Shame-the shame of victimization. Your allowing this public essay to speak your personal truth brings (I hope) your voice one step closer to ridding that shame, and also, (I hope) encourages other voices to feel safe to speak of their own shame…and the journey to move beyond. You Rock E Alice Isak!
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I hope it reaches others too, yes. Thanks, Deb–you are the greatest supporter a blog could ever wish for! ❤
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