Some things scare me, so I try not to write about them.
(I admit a case of writer’s block with gracious honesty.)
I avoid the words even though they bubble up in my chest, so I run as far as I can from the uncomfortableness (you should see my calf muscles from all that running!) until I lose the race.
It’s there—sprawled on the lawn with an arm draped over my eyes—I decide to make friends with the emotions. Let them find a way through my fingertips onto the page, but it’s not easy.
Being vulnerable in our writing is an art, and like any act of creativity, we learn as we manipulate the medium. Words come from fluidity in our emotions, in our experiences, so we must learn to write about the things that we should not write about.
As a good friend told me, “Why worry about writing about a torturous moment? You already lived it; so it can’t be any harder to write.”
I agreed with her wisdom regarding the particular topic—something about love and sex—that we chatted about on that summer day.
Months later, I think about the things that we should always write about, but tend to find fearful. Surprisingly, I realize that I have been writing about these things as of late.
Here are five little things that we should write about:
1. Our Bodies.
We’ve been told to be afraid of our bodies since childhood. Think the awkwardness of sex ed classes.
We’ve been urged to believe that our bodies “should” be perfect with figures shaped like the women in the air-brushed photos in magazines.
I am a collection of imperfections (and I love my body). I know that I am unique, not a magazine cover polished kind of woman.
Just an ordinary gal who really wants to write an article about the pros and cons of making love with guys who have an uncircumcised penis vs. a circumcised penis (and, yes…I know about the pros and cons from experience). Yet I blush each time that I sit down to write the article.
I want to write it because I shouldn’t write about bodies (especially men’s bodies), right?
It’s almost impossible not to write about sadness, but I find that it is something hard for me to do.
I hate to admit that I might be sad, as I will expose too much of myself. Also, why would anyone want to hear about my sadness?
Because we do.
We can all relate to those moments in which we find ourselves shattered by the risk of simply being a human in this complex world.
We know the brevity of living.
We know the tenderness of being brave, and we long for others to resonate our experiences. So go ahead, write about those moments when we can barely hold our heads up, let alone speak to another. Write because we must write through those feelings of sadness. Write through them into…
Yes, I am a cheerful person.
My mom often tells me that I laughed when I was born—all the nurses wanted to hold me because I was the happiest baby they had ever seen.
Yes, I do love to smile (even with my mousey grin), crack a joke to help another feel a little better (even if it’s just for a fleeting moment!) and find a way to make our days a little bit brighter.
With all the joy, I find it difficult to write about joy.
How do I slow down in the moment of laughter to share it with words? I don’t do it enough, but I should.
Certainly, I found a taboo to be such a touchy subject that it became a poem.
Yes, I think that we all have a connection with some aspect of a taboo. Come on, don’t pretend that we don’t; we are not perfect.
We don’t want to admit that we may be tempted because it shows our vulnerability. Like I said, I am collection of imperfections, but I honor the intentions that others make to create their world.
I don’t cross the line, but I must write about them in order to better understand the weight that taboos carry over our shoulders.
Besides some taboos were made to be broken—challenge the cultural constructions, right?
Not sex (everybody writes about that), but sexy. The way we move our bodies through our world.
Why not make our way of being a sexy act?
I think sexy is an essential part of us.
We are our bodies (lest we forget, as we dial into all these gadgets). We are all sexy. Let it shine. Sexy does not mean perfection (in a magazine quality way).
Being sexy means knowing ourselves—owning the confidence of our body.
Feel the way our hips move as we slowly walk across the room to greet our lover or future lover. Find that energy at our core, share those sexy ways with words.
Yes, write about these things that we find uncomfortable (like being sexy). Find the awkwardness. Honor the edge of being unsure about your feelings, about your words.
Let them fall off your lips, move through your fingertips and onto the page just because you can.
Love elephant and want to go steady?
Editor: Bryonie Wise
Photo Credit: Katja Zagar/Pixoto