Slug Life
I saw a personality pull on TikTok recently that said I want to be a fire ant, but that people see me as a fire fly however, I actually am a horse. Unstoppable and wild. I was shocked when she said that because I have the words “be unstoppable” tattooed on me. The only qualm I have with this assessment is that I want to be a slug instead of a fire ant. A fire ant acts with blind devotion to her community. And I’m still in the process of finding my people. Im much more like a slug, just lay on the ground and scooch. No one knows where that slug is going but damnit she’s going to make it.
Secrets. I think secrets are like cancer - some are slow growing and can be kept at bay for a long time, while some are aggressive, metastatic; it moves like a sniper and takes you out fast and clean. Either way, both kill you. Why do I hate secrets? I think because my entire life I’ve been hiding who I was; I was told to make myself tiny so as to fit into a fancy box with a beautiful perfectly-tied pink satin bow. Occasionally my family would take me out of the box and parade me around as if to say “look at our daughter, what great parents we are”. While on the inside I was gritting my teeth and rehearsing lines and trying to pre-plan small talk, so I didn’t say the wrong thing.
What if someone asks us to keep a secret? Are we supposed to? What if the secret is killing you? What if I say no? I want to take up space. I want to tell people what I want and who I am, not the other way around. I don’t want to keep anymore secrets.
I’m learning how to set boundaries and it is making some people VERY angry. I hear that quote in my head that says the people who dissent the loudest to your boundaries, are the people who most benefit from crossing them. I want to not care and just say eff if, but what if the people dissenting are your own family? What if you tell the people you are supposed to trust and protect, that secrets are poison, and they say shut up and drink? What if you try to put down boundaries and they threaten your peace? Where is the line between being a good daughter and being a punching bag?
After I wrote that, I had a conversation with my mother; I told her I wanted boundaries and that I couldn’t keep family secrets anymore…. She told me the secrets were mine to bare but not to share, and forced the poison down my throat. I can see more clearly now how I ended up here: paralyzed with fear, unable to trust myself and fighting back shame for thinking I can dream bigger. The louder I speak and the more space I take, the more it reminds me of Pinocchio snipping his strings.
I’m afraid that everything I was scared of is happening. I feel like my family’s love is conditional; that I can only be included and accepted if I am a “good girl”. My mother told me “you hear what you want to hear”. I don’t understand what that means. Am I not hearing the truth? What is the truth? Is truth subjective? Can two truths that conflict both be true? Can I hear oppression and and judgment while my mother hears…. Whatever it is that she hears, and we can both be right?
My truth is that I feel like my family is trying to silence me before I’ve even had a chance to learn how to use my megaphone. And I think I know why, but it’s the uncertainty that scares me. What if I feel like secrets are venom that sends little ninja stars through my blood, leaving knicks and cuts behind them? What if I said I don’t want to spend the energy trying to triage wounds that I didn’t cause? What if I want to let the wounds heal by writing them down?
Again, I return to the question of why not? I need to rebuild my life and it’s happening like the beat of the butterfly wing that sets off a tsunami a million miles away (or whatever that saying is). Basically I either lean into the healing or it steamrolls over and suffocates me. Unfortunately, my healing doesn’t seem to be coming in the form of a muscular lumberjack who wants to caress my scars with kisses whilst on a bear skin run. My healing is more like that ex you can’t get rid of that just hangs around and bugs the shit out of you until you either deal with it or give up.