Radically Enough
Radically Enough
Self-worth has no unit of measurement.
Dear reader,
I left Instagram (again) four days ago. My first social media break was last spring while I worked on a solo exhibition of drawings. At the beginning, it felt like I was jumping off a cliff. A three-month sabbatical from using Instagram as a promotional tool felt like the ultimate litmus test to what I had built, and I wasn’t sure I would pass. Would people still buy art off of my website? Would my Substack grow? Would I go into debt trying to pay for basic living expenses?
I worried the interlude would be the end of my reign as a full-time artist, but the world kept turning. Instagram — and all of the generous people who use it and support my work — were right where I left them.
I wish I could say that living to tell the tale helped me trust myself (and all of you) more. I took a break and emerged anew, without any negative consequences. Behind the curtain of scarcity I found nothing more than a trickster. And yet, despite the proof of this experience, I’m still not at ease. Is it really a break if I spend it in a hypervigilant state of anxiety?
My faith can’t be something I call upon part-time, I understand that. Otherwise, one year later, the same choice to trust my intuition and flee the stories and reels feels just as threatening as it did the first time I made it.
Cutting ties with something, however temporary, provokes me to consider what else I’m afraid to let go of. To where do I cling too tightly? Where do I not really believe? Is it really love if I spend the entire relationship white-knuckled? And if heartbreak is my fate, am I not living proof that I’ll survive it again?
We're not meant to go through life alone. I know we need each other to survive, and I believe most things in life are better shared. I believe in interdependence, and I place a lot of emphasis on my friendships and romantic partnerships. I know that I am here in part to foster connections and build intimacy. I am a romantic. I love Love.
What’s tricky is when my natural proclivities are challenged by my childhood abandonment traumas, by my history of physical abuse at the hands of men. This, combined with the societal messaging that people, especially women, are invalid without partnership, results in a clusterfuck of defense mechanisms and conflicting concerns. I want and value love and connection so much, but I'm terrified of it. Letting people get close to me is scary. I may be an aspiring romantic. I aspire to love Love, to welcome it freely.