Chapter 27: Removing the Veil: A Collective Version of Self-Love and Unknown Futures

"Lift the veil that obscures the heart and there you will find what you are looking for." - Kabir

For the last several weeks I've been dealing with the grief of my vision board and everything it symbolized. For me it was grieving the loss of a life I'll never get to experience; a life that validated and rewarded all of the trials, birthing pains, and rebirths I experienced within this lifetime. It validated the decision to keep trying because there was sunshine on the other side of depression and suicide. It was the manifestation of self-love that I had constructed that identified and honored the coping mechanisms and survival tools I created as a result of a lifetime of rejection, abandonment, and feeling unworthy. When I discarded my vision board I severed the delicate bungee cord that allowed me to stare into the abyss and be roped back into the realm of the living.

I spent the next week in a virtual free fall and returning to old fears and anxieties: that nothing I do is good enough, that I'm a placeholder until someone better comes along, that my chosen community had all gotten too busy with their lives and grew tired of checking in on me, that once again love passed me by because I was damaged goods. Work was my solace until it wasn't; a benign critique from my boss was met with a cognitive distortion that only amplified my feelings of inadequacy. Several of our clients were the victims of identity theft and the proceeding days were spent filing police reports, providing trips to the county building, and feeling powerless against hackers. Even in my lowest moments, there was always something I could look forward to keep me going. But conversations with my friends were becoming one-sided as texts were left on read and plans to catch up were delayed more times than Dr. Dre's Detox album (first announced in 2002 and eventually shelved in 2015. We did get Compton later that year, with not even a fraction of the anticipation and hype). Even something as silly as completing my curated list of Prince albums on social media and this blog project was something to look forward to and commit to. But both of these are nearing the end and I haven't found my next creative outlet. Not even the return of Charlie Cox as Daredevil in the MCU, the pleasant surprise of Werewolf by Night, and the continued brilliance of Andor was enough to cheer me up.  

In response I tried to go the self-love route that all these coaches, gurus, wellness healers, and influencers preach and infuse with their privilege. In my heartbreak and depression I tried to reserve more love for myself because we can't pour from an empty cup, right? I tried to make myself a top priority and cut out the things that didn't "serve" me. I set firmer work boundaries and turned my phone on do not disturb on the days I wasn't working. I began mercilessly muting and blocking people who triggered me on their social media posts (i.e. anyone who continues to post K*nye W*st music drops on their "inspirational" posts, I'm sorry but there's nothing inspirational about a meglomaniac who causes harm to his own community by pandering to racists. The same man that said "George Bush does not care about black people", the same thing could be said about him. He can f*ck all the way off with his overpriced, ugly shoes). I took my puppy out for a walk by the beach strand because that's been my one consistent happy place. I splurged on books and graphic novels to nourish my soul but also as form of escapism. I bought incense candles and oils to clear the "bad energy". I bought more face masks for my skincare because the recent heatwave and stress eating did its damage on my skin. I contemplated joining a gym again and figuring I could keep my mask on while I work out. Maybe I should attend another seminar or find some wellness retreat. And other those tangible, consumer based solutions that show up on my algorithm. 

Hey "self-love", right? About a week back into this routine, I realized that I was "loving" myself by erecting more emotional shields and self-isolating again. I was building walls from intimacy again as a response to the feeling that my community was abandoning me again. I responded with each unanswered text (and we're talking days and weeks here) and lack of follow up, each "I didn't feel a romantic connection" with a f*ck it, why do I even bother? Let them miss me when I'm gone.

"Self-love" in practice only gets you so far. It's hard to tell someone from a marginalized group, someone who society actively loathes by painting in stereotypes as the perpetual foreigner and also capitalizes off our subjugation and exploitation, to love themselves. We weren't taught to love and value ourselves, it's an indigenous language that many of us lose when we adopt the tongue of our Western, White nationalist colonizers. Self-love in the form of "the only person we have is ourselves" marginalizes those who struggle with mental health; when "the only person we have is ourselves" is itself a trigger of isolation that "no one understands" and only fuels suicidal ideations. 

Self-actualized people are comfortable with the unknown. They don't mind not knowing what the future holds.

Self-love doesn't happen in a vacuum and it doesn't happen in isolation either. And it certainly isn't glamourous. It's the daily practice of radical acceptance with great compassion. It's standing in our own sh*t, identifying all of my trauma responses and coping mechanisms and giving myself the compassion to view myself with grace rather than disdain for all of my flaws and imperfections. It's allowing myself to be vulnerable rather than dismiss myself as moody, whiny, and beyond redeeming. It's not trying to build myself up and manifesting some idealized vision board for my life; because only then would I know that I'm a lovable person. It's realizing that that I'm worthy of love, even with an uncertain future and life, I only need to be here for it. 

The self-focused version of self-love did not nourish any love in me, it just continued to further the divide I was experiencing. It made me forget that the love is felt when my joys are connected with others' joys, my pain connected with others' pains, my pleasure connected with others' pleasure. Self-love is meant to be the connector that brings us all together, that makes us invested in one another's growth, that makes us march in unison with our marginalized brothers and sisters, etc. bell hooks explains the how she defines love and the six ingredients of love: "when we are loving we openly and honestly express care, affection, responsibility, respect, commitment, and trust". Love is not a feeling but an action, embedded with the choices of kindness, respect, affection, empathy, and compassion without the need for domination, ownership, and control. 

As I remove the veil over my heart and examine the shards of my vision board, I see the ingredients that bell hooks identifies. I realize that I can continue to embed every thought, every action with those same intentions. I can sit with my fears of rejection, abandonment, and unworthiness with compassion without a need to hold on to memories or moments in time. I could celebrate other people's experiences, their wins, their successes, their loves; even at the expense of my closeness with them. Sending them off with love and trusting that love will be that connective thread that spans time and distance. If they don't come back, then wishing them well with gratitude for the time spent in proximity. 

Yes I'm struggling with my mental health again. No, I don't know what the future holds for me, for the people in my life, and us as a collective. I already have anxiety and dread over the outcome of the 2022 midterm elections. I have anxiety over what the outcome of the demonstrations and protests in Iran will be. When you struggle with depression and suicidal ideations, some days I think I'll be here for another 50 years and some days I don't think that I'll make it another 50 days. Yes, it hurt to feel like the people in my life are moving on with their lives and abandoning me. No, I wouldn't want them to remain stagnant and miss out on the expansive ever moving nature of love that awaits them. (Just because I'm seemingly incapable of sustained happiness doesn't mean I want everyone else to be miserable too.) The only known I am certain of is my self-love will be practiced and expressed through the care, affection, responsibility, respect, commitment, and trust I extend to my family and friends, to the DV families I work with, and to the larger community. What is unknown is how my paths with Piper, Connie, Marissa, Serena, Krista, Audria, etc. will continue to run parallel, if they'll extend farther, or will veer perpendicular like it did with Helie, Lexi, Ray, H, and everyone else that was a part of my community in the past. And I'm learning to make peace with that without succumbing to the "the only person we have is ourselves" mentality.

As I lift the veil from my heart I see that love is not a destination or outcome, but it is a conscious action for every step along the journey.

Portrait Photography: https://www.zacharyleeportrait.com