From the Archives: Girl Abandons Mop while Cleaning Up Past Self

NOTE: THIS SUBSTACK WAS ORIGINALLY POSTED ON 11/29/2022

Last week I went viral, again. There was a point a few months ago I never thought I’d return to sharing my life on the internet. Making that video felt really close to me, which is something I keep reminding myself to be proud of // grateful for. Creating in this capacity feels really fresh and I’m super excited to continue my digital narrative in a format that’s genuine to who I truly am.

I’m not sure if it’s breaking some sort of fourth wall to discuss going viral or how content performs blatently in this manner. However, the more I think about it, there is something that bothers me about “creators” or others in a similar field to myself completely ignoring the element entirely. I imagine the lack of acknowledgment is incubated from ego or maybe even shame. Going viral for something I worked hard on that feels really close to myself is something I don’t want to dismiss. It’s like getting a good grade on an art project. While it brings about a lot of pressure and second guessing, it simultaneously brings a lot of solace knowing that my expression is capable (worthy?) of being praised and for that I am eternally thankful.

Looking back on the content I used to create - specifically on TikTok, it makes me sad. 

That girl sought a lot of validation and attention in her hurt/struggle. I see this notion in a lot of content I come across though - it’s like a fucked up shock factor and I can understand why there was a time I thought producing content of that - perhaps toxic nature - was (in my mind) a golden ticket to admiration. I’m not resentful of my past self for trying to connect virtually when I felt lost//alone but after taking a break, I am certain that the “connection” I was desperately longing for was never going to be found in anywhere other than within myself and offline. 

Around this time last year I went to Art Basel with a friend from college. A week prior I had met someone who ended up joining us for a few days of the trip. I also did Molly for the first time and got my period so bad I bled through my sweatpants on the flight home but anyway - both of those details are irrelevant with where this is going.

Similar to writing about virality, I don’t typically write about love. Even in my journal I rarely write about being in love - I think it’s some sort of superstition. Months after things ended with this person, I finally felt I was in a place where my mind and body had been completely exfoliated from them. As the anniversary of this trip comes up, inevitably memories of this relationship have returned. 

I’m not here to give specifics of that situation and to be quite honest I’m not very confident that I would be able to accurately recall what happened for a multitude of different reasons - the most blatant being I was sick. I hate using “I was sick” as a sort of justification for my actions during a time of hurt but in many ways I feel as though I have recently abandoned a past version of myself and the dismissal of my “sickness” within my identity was a very large part of the recovery. When I say “sick” I don’t mean covid-19 (even though that was how I spent my Christmas) I mean being an emotionally poisonous, insecure, selfish and foreign version of myself.

While the various forms of transformation I’ve undergone this year feel enormous at this point, true recovery began when I dropped the mop I was using to clean up the parts of me that I had spilled out onto everyone else in the name of salvation. Who was I when I wasn’t blaming others for who I had become? I came to understand that while painful, I could no longer accept this insufferable version of myself, I had to abandon her.

Abandoned is such a strong word and it almost feels negative to interchange growth with abandonment but I’m not entirely sure if an abandonment of a past self is growth. Instead I think in many cases, abandonment makes space for growth. Both processes certainly involve grieving a version of yourself (maybe others as well) and like the homes we grew up in, (a place we know like the back of our hand but no longer are welcome, even for a visit - um hello, trespassing) we’ll always remain haunted by the ghosts of who we used to be and could’ve been.

I have a lot of regrets with the way past versions of me handled situations, especially when it comes to my relationships - more specific being my relationship with someone whom I fell so devastatingly in love with. The regret usually visits me mid-way through a guided meditation or when I’m trying to go to sleep before 11pm. I offer it the idea that some people are meant to come into our lives to experience a certain version of ourselves and not another. I then put it in the sink, run the water and soften it’s cement fear that still blurs parts of me from getting close to someone again.

Cue: Extra strength garbage disposal - BEGONE GUARDED INTIMACY

As I navigate adulthood, I’m realizing that there is no final form. I think I touched on this in a past entry on waiting. For the longest time I’ve felt as though there is a version of me that I am in constant pursuit of - a version of me that has her shit *more* together. She wakes up before 7am, scoops the litter box more than once a week, remembers to do a hair mask, has a positive relationship with diet and exercise, flosses regularly, submits work on time, picks up the phone every time her mom calls and has suitors lined up down the block proposing marriage. That constant pursuit is so unfulfilling though. It leaves me perpetually unsatisfied and limits my capacity for joy within the present moment. If all we have is right now, I have no desire to prove I am enough to the parts of myself that believe otherwise.

I am immeasurably appreciative of your support. It’s shocking to me that there are people in the world who read what I write and existing at the same time together is such a great privilege.

I hope your Tuesday isn’t too Tuesday-y (ugh Tuesday is my least favorite day of the week)

All my love until next time, 

X 

MG

P.S I’ve been throwing ideas at the wall for what to strain out on here so if it’s not too tumultuous PLEASE don’t be shy to leave a comment with suggestions/ideas/feedback.