Today I’ve been working on my manuscript.
Which means I’ve been writing about my childhood. Which means I’ve been hanging out with my kid self.
Which means I’m feeling tender.
Midway through my last writing block, I was listening to Laurie Anderson’s song Superman. The song has a line that begins, “O Mom and Dad,” and suddenly, I was so overwhelmed with gratitude for both of my devastatingly flawed parents, who bickered fiercely through my childhood, and bicker even more fiercely now, that I stopped right then and there to send one of those random “thinking of you, can’t talk now, but I love you,” sort of texts, even though technically, I could have probably paused the page I was working on to actually talk on the phone.
Tender does not mean unboundaried.
Earlier today, I listened to a podcast interview I did with the Unscripted Posing App about navigating creative blocks and was shocked to hear myself sound much more collected than I had felt. I remember that day had a dream-like quality. It was the kind where I almost couldn’t gather enough segments to piece together a whole self, which is a difficult mindset to answer personal questions from, lemme tell you. Yet when I played the podcast, there I was, sounding undeniably like a distinct person. And kinda an interesting one, with thoughtful and, dare I say, inspiring opinions.
I couldn’t mother-cussing believe it.