On the healing side as well, after my surgeries, the doctors would say you need 6-8 weeks for recovery and I would say: No. I need the rest of my life for my recovery. There is not a "healed state."
My mom in momma bear retaliation to sooth her cub, had our childhood piano delivered from Barrie to my Toronto home. The Baldwin. It arrived. And gently, I played.
I want to paint worlds where feeling is fact and the space for healing is valued.
The cuts were tangible proof that I was messed up, broken, and needed fixing. Something that I desperately felt inside, could now be seen outside.
I’m not the only one being pelted with the comments that I am “above average looking” for a “regular person” but couldn’t possibly be “pretty enough” to be an actress.
It occurs to me for the first time in my life that I do not need to be fixed. Maybe I never needed to be fixed, by my Mom, doctors, drugs, friends, partners.
I'm not sure why time alone frightens me. It might be that I come from a loud, expressive family where privacy was not an option.