Aging up and realizing I was wrong
🎂 New Art // "Those days are over. Now, I am thinking my own thoughts."
The house is quiet. I am writing to you at dusk, still thinking about this moment I had in my own mind. I was brushing my teeth, mulling over a certain situation. It’s something family related, sticky and full of trip wires, something that is both old news and a new tangle.
I found myself talking it through in my mind, trying out what I might say if someone asks what I think we should do. Then, even bolder, I starting thinking what I could say if I opened the conversation myself. Not a kid anymore, not a grandkid. An adult. Today is my birthday, I am 40. I am older than my parents were in the late Junes of my childhood, my dad working under a car, my mom opening the loud windows to cool down the house, us kids sidestepping the prickly plants by the swing set after sunset.
Those days are over. Now, I am thinking my own thoughts. And here’s the first thought I had, albeit one that has been with me since I was very young: they’re going to be so mad if I say this thing I want to say.
And THEN.
Then, I thought a new thought —
… that’s okay.
I thought: it would be sad and painful and hard.
And, that would be okay.
Three weeks ago a friend said to me, it’s even easier to love you when you let us know you. All this time, I had thought it would be easier to love me if made sure I was the kind of person people loved. If I trimmed myself back to be someone no one is mad at.
It’s nice, aging up and realizing I was wrong. Burdens just falling to the ground. Looking in the mirror and thinking: I want to look like myself, and I do.
love,
brit
I am making a run of prints of this painting for June Patreon members. There will be two sizes: a mini one (4”x6”) and a standard size (8”x10”). If you’d like one, join any tier with a “New Art print” reward. Both sizes can come with or without a sticker. The cutoff is midnight PT, Tue June 30.
Here’s a tanka poem I wrote about this moment the other night:
lie on my belly
notebook open, good pen out.
tell the inky truth.
but - miko wants body time,
slips in, sprawls on the words.