Where Do You Think You're Going?

I've been struggling with this feeling that I don't have anything special or unique to say. And on the flipside, I have opinions and ideas that I don't necessarily see in the media I come across. It's a cross section of my interests, but maybe it's all something nobody is asking for. I'm struggling to find my voice, which is weird for someone who loves to write and create. I have taken myself down some long and winding roads in the wrong direction a few too many times, and I may have gotten a bit lost. I spent a long time silencing the truest parts of myself in public to be more palatable to the mainstream. Even in my own creations. It's easier to post pictures of mountains with vaguely introspective captions than it is to say something real. Than it is to try and tackle all of the things a real person lives with. All the things I have lived with, avoided, tried to change. 

I am 35 years old and only now doing the work I ran from when I was young. I didn't stay in touch with who I used to be, and that apparition of the past comes knocking on my door at some pretty inconvenient moments. I have been complicit in my own oppression. I chose to sit down and shut up, to smile politely, to ignore the hard things and focus on the pretty, easy things. I didn't stand up for myself or for anyone else. I let myself be silenced by my own shame. And it's hard to find my way back. I felt a lot of shame around my lesbian identity growing up. I was terrified of the idea of telling anyone. I had no intention of ever coming out. I actually planned to stay single forever, or at least until I moved to a big city and found a queer community. That is obviously not what happened, but the fact that my public coming out is surrounded by substance abuse, mental health crises, lack of involvement in the narrative, and a lot of other bad things made it harder than I tried to let on.

I was not prepared to deal with the consequences. So I didn't. Not really. I hid the pain as well as I could (which was not well at all), but I refused to talk about it. I had some bad experiences trying to access help (thanks homophobia in health care). I'm finally starting to forgive myself a little for how I got through it. I did the best I could in that moment with the limited resources I had. But it has gone on too long. I don't want to make excuses. I have hurt people I care about by my stubborn refusal to acknowledge a need for help, by fiercely pushing myself forward and forgetting to consult other people. By thinking going it alone was the only way to handle the hard stuff. And I am working on not doing that, but it's a hard habit to break. 

I spent a long time in survival mode. I forgot to dream, to think about who I want to be and what I want to put out there in the world. I forgot to try. And the thing is, it's not all better now. I've been incredibly lucky not to lose the person I love through all this. I want to make all her dreams come true even more than my own. I want to build a life I can be proud of, not to come home emotionally drained every day, absorbed in my own bullshit instead of putting energy into building a kick ass life together. As a person who hates public displays of affection and who is fiercely committed to privacy, that's all I'm going to put out there about my relationship for this post. But it's all true. I don't think everything should be public, but I prefer not to lie.

So what do I want to say? To do? I'm interested in looking at the outdoor industry through the lens of a gay feminist woman (aware as I am on the privilege I have being white, able-bodied, and often not read as queer), because it's not something I was finding when I wanted to read it. I'm interested in sharing my experiences and perspectives from hiking, camping, climbing, etc. I'm interested in sharing what it means to me. I'm interested in seeking out information on how to do this through as many anti-oppressive lenses as possible. I don't want to get sucked into "white feminist" or "white gay" traps, although that this is the perspective I have. I also have to admit that I feel a bit out of touch with the younger Queer community. My geriatric millennial perspective might be one nobody asked for, or has any interest in. I'm not convinced that it's of value to anyone but me. I also recognize the crushing weight of insecurity that I have tried to ignore my whole life. So I'm going to try anyway. Try to put something out there and see where it goes.

For the record, this is not the post I intended to write today. I set out with a title of "Dear Bouldering Bros, I Don't Need Your Help" but ended up in a different direction. I might revisit that soon. But for now, I'm looking for direction, looking for what I want to say, for what my voice sounded like before I adapted it to fit in to the mainstream. Looking for who I am when I'm not trying to impress anyone. Honestly, if anyone knows of any free or low cost writing resources (online workshops, lectures, etc), I would be interested. If there's any specific topics you would like to hear my rants/ opinions about, feel free to drop a comment or message and let me know. Hopefully I have found a little direction.