"The courage to live: I keep hidden what needs to be hidden and needs to irradiate in secret. I feel and think and live and transform everything I am into something of mine that nonetheless remains entirely outside me. Guts tortured by voluptuousness guide me, fury of impulses."
H&M jacket // Finders Keepers top c/o Fshbnkr // H&M jeans // Dharma Eyewear sunglasses // Rue Gembon earrings c/o // Steve Madden booties
I used to be afraid of roller coasters. Wasn't a fan of the sudden drops and felt uncomfortable when I felt my stomach roll in on itself. But to fit in with the rest of my classmates on school trips to Six Flags, I forced myself to become accustomed to the scary adrenaline. After a couple of more rides to overcome the fear, I realized it wasn't so much the stomach dropping that really worried me. I was more uncomfortable with the fact that after the initial drop, I was no longer in control of myself. Something else was controlling my bodily instincts. Even if I was readily aware and mentally prepared for the incoming fall, the roller coaster dictated my emotions, anyways. Perhaps a metaphorical symbol for the unpredictabilities in my life and something I've recently discovered applicable to my growing years of self-realization.
I have an explosive nature--the kind where I unexpectedly erupt at a given breaking point. Not something I'm particularly proud of, but something I've accepted as a result of my past and a characteristic I'm learning to dissimilate. I attribute it to the fact that I like to hide my emotions if it means keeping my not-so-attractive sides hidden. And I've been able to master it for quite some time now because not many people know of my lowest point. It's a skill that's kept me perceptually sound but it's also yielded damaging sudden drops in sanity. Think of a boiling pot of water, consistently simmering under leveled control, but ignore it for too long and the pot boils colossally and spills over the edge uncontrollably. That's how I imagine my prolonged buried emotions experience their impending threshold. At some point, I lose control of them when I least expect it and then let it all out before I can fully process what's happening. And once it's exposed in the open air, I regret every bit of it. My only escape at this point is to quickly retreat and disconnect myself from the world, hoping that the silence will automatically restart and salvage my dignity. It's not easy to watch something I've been trying so carefully to hide inevitably leak out of my conscious demeanor. It's the same loss of control feeling I get when riding roller coasters.
After some time, I actually enjoyed riding roller coasters. I learned to love the feeling of letting go, of feeling unexpectedly free and weightless. Because in that small instance, where all you see ahead is the clear open sky right before that initial drop, you are ready--maybe not completely but it's enough to feel okay and maybe all we need is that simple okay feeling. I learned to embrace the adrenaline and own the uncomfortableness. Though I'm not justifying my explosive nature, I'm enjoying that I now know I don't have to feel the pressure of keeping everything inside all the time. The beauty of letting go makes me feel more human and sane than pretending to have it all together. Secrets are only as good as their transformative value. Otherwise, we're burdened with stagnant heavyweights anchoring our personal growth and self-love.
Photography by KMTBPhotography