March 2022,

March 2022. it’s hard to not objectify myself through digital forms, especially when i feel far from who i see when i peer into a mirror. social media helps us look at ourselves without Really Looking at ourselves. it confuses being consumed for being loved. i began participating in a writing workshop earlier this month that explores the self, the many selves, the gap between myself and i. spaces which were only ever known as spaces of refuge and crisis, flooded in fear and panic. it’s a deeply frightening invitation, to inch closer to the center. for so long, it was a place i evaded, i needed my feet firmly planted in the present, cemented by the fear of what dark corner i would get dragged to if i looked too far inward. the last few years have been spent slowly coming back to the self/selves, practicing the ongoing care for the wound of disassociation. the more i practice visiting those spaces in between and looking further in, the less my body feels ablaze when doing so. at this point the distance from my self/selves comes and goes, but for many years the distance was the bloated harbor of my inner landscape. a fragmented and eroding sense of self as the omnipresent fog scraping over the water.  i felt like a flood lodged in a fissure, a sun trapped in the sky. now, i am re learning how to rise and how to set. re visiting those spaces, from a place of safety and groundedness. i can feel the thread that connects me to the present. now, i am breathing oxygen into the space between my selves and i, transfusing love, care and safety as i stand and softly look them in the eyes. i still tremble in those spaces, feelings rising in my chest. they know i am trying though. devoted to my sense of self, my selves. this is a photo to remember this moment, this self.