They used to tell me to shut up all the time - in school, at home, and in ballet. Everywhere they put me I had to stand like a soldier.
It made me anxious and overthink everything. At the same time, it made me a great artist.
I can see past that pain and resentment now, of society wanting to condition me into a mature person. The young rebel in me wants to scream and make funny content.
The parts of me that I like the most are methodical and quiet.
I fall out of line just so people know I can be that way if I wanted to but I use my strength not to be. It’s a total power move.
I don’t create art, write, and speak lucidly for other people. I also don’t let myself get treated with disrespect either. There are occasions when you have no choice but to lower yourself to that nasty level so people can even hear what you are saying.
Someone like myself, well mannered and polite - it takes a lot to get me there. They have been pushing, shoving, and triggering me there my whole life. Either with rules, criticism, or disrespect. I don’t want your opinions, because I control my schedule and operations at the end of the day.
The ones who arrive in your life fast - leave fast too. Their opinion is worth the least. The ones who mock everybody - I don’t even tune into what they are saying. The ones who watch closely and finally state their conclusion are the only ones worth your consideration.
With anger management and emotional control; I had no choice but to become a master otherwise I’d never be respected.
I manage my emotions through their raw energetic output. I don’t respond until I deem it is necessary with my reasoning. If I feel the need to express my emotions no matter how aggressive - I will do it, even if the worthy of consideration tell me not to.
I feel that expression is my birthright. Being as wise as I am, I also know that there are different ways to do that. My fashion and “showing off” are a good way to express my anger, boldness, and strength. My art helps me to communicate my heartfelt perspective on the suffering of the world.
My blog posts, photography, and videos are my way to uplift and prevent others from the directionless suffering they may be experiencing.
I recently went through a phase of rage and uncontrolled expression, because there was no other way forward for me. Black women taught me to be that way. Where my Russian family would say "close your mouth and do what I say” - they would say “quit that job” and “tell them how you feel”.
In fashion school, I lived with black girls. And they taught me how to express my emotions rather than go crazy with my repressed ideas and thoughts. It became exhilarating to come home and open a bottle of wine while complaining about the system. We were so free. We had no money. We had fun. We complained about men. They took me under their auntie wing and loved me with everything they had. And I loved them that way too. We ate like queens and walked around snowy Bed Stuy smoking cigarettes right before the holidays.
And that’s where I became who I truly am. It wasn’t London, or engineering school, or ballet, or Russian camp, or church. It was in a shoe box sized French door apartment with 3 black girls and a beautiful grey cat from craigslist. It was my Planet Fitness weightlifting, yoga class, club going, poetry writing, and vibrator company working self that made me who I am. And I haven’t changed one bit.
I thrift the same way, do my own hair the same way, talk the same way, run the same way, write the same way, clean the same way, and work the same way.
People get lost in life when society starts to see them as the new hot thing. I’m always like, “I have always been here, the same way. You just didn’t have the awareness to see me as I am. The problem is your lack of vision, not mine. In fact, there is no problem”.
I lost my spark when I started dating for marriage. They looked at me like my creativity and vision were lethal. So I had to hide again, just like I did when I was in high school. It felt safe for me. But it was not my true self. My boyfriend didn’t like thrifted clothes, scented candles, cacao ceremonies, or going out. We compromised and found shared joys like meditation, cooking, and cleaning.
I think it’s actually for the best that I shut down a bit, because I learned to intellectualize everything a bit more. Rather than expressing how I felt, I started taking photos and building a business.
People don’t really listen anyways. They listen to make a spectacle of you after you leave.
With art, they can’t say anything. It is just you.
LS
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