Last week, I needed to rest more deeply. I needed to lie down, take baths, breathe, and just say no to what I thought my day was going to look like.
My period started and it was more painful than usual, as I haven’t gone to acupuncture for 6 months.
I started with this feeling of guilt, this sense of responsibility. That in order to “feel better” or “be well,” I needed to make sure that I scheduled an acupuncture appointment for next month. That somehow I needed to be “more on top of” the self-care game so I could show up like a “normal” person in this world.
I quickly recognized what I was saying to myself and apologized to my own body for my self-sabotage. But I did ask myself, “Where does this come from?”
That answer would take a lot longer to answer than this blog post. But while I was lying in bed I came across Sick Woman Theory, and I kept saying “yes, yes, yes” over and over again.
Please read it, even if you don’t agree with where she is going politically-there is such beauty in her piece.
I also realize in myself, that the more I heal (or cope) in body, mind & spirit, the more I am able to show up for myself, but also allow my anger and gifts of being an advocate to channel in not only productive, but beautiful ways.
And to a great extent, this showing up is political. For any person who is marginalized (especially for those trans and queer women of color), showing up as themselves is the act of resistance. And then the question becomes, “How can more of us show up more fully in this world?”
Showing up will look like many things to people who cannot get out of bed. Showing up looks like texting other sick friends and just asking, “How are you today?” or “I thought of you today. How are you feeling?”
Sometimes showing up is going old-school and getting serious about having a pen pal who understands what you’re going through, without the pressure to respond instantly.
Sometimes showing up is just being vulnerable with people and saying “I need this.” Your gift is your vulnerability, although we have been trained culturally to feel like a burden.
Sometimes showing up is your own self-care, just for you, without needing to serve any productive purpose. And without needing to explain to anyone if self-care is self-indulgence. (Thank you Audre Lorde!)
Sometimes showing up is your own tears, about taking all the pills in the world and still not feeling how you want to feel.
Sometimes showing up is taking pain medicine, just to be able to walk out the door, knowing that you’ll probably be met with scrutiny in whatever space you enter into.
Sometimes showing up is your own laughter, your own ability to learn to live in a body that others don’t approve of, your own belonging you create out of “not belonging.”
Sometimes showing up is trying to explain the isolating effects to someone who is able-bodied. To learn the delicate art of informing, without feeling like you are doing all the emotional labor (energy you don’t have!) for someone else.
Sometimes showing up is just saying “I see you.” To yourself. To others. For the sake of the beauty of the world.