giving in
giving up
giving a damn
giving each other a break
giving a hand
giving it some thought
but also…
taking space
taking time
taking it easy
taking it in
taking turns
taking it slow.
giving: things to spur more thoughts
“Oh baby” music video by LCD Soundsystem - made me cry in the bus.
I had a very spirited conversation recently on icks. We touched on contemporary dating and how depressing it seems due to the increased commodification of well, everything, from living in a capitalist society, made worse by dating apps and the way their platforms are built. This post blames phones.
I stumbled on this passage and I don’t know what to make of it. When I am invigorated about my ‘work’, it gives me resolve. But when I’m wrestling with work and conflating it with my self worth, it makes me want to break something, because what is life if not the distractions from your work?
I thoroughly enjoyed this data-driven, deep dive into porn and how it impacts men’s perceptions of what women like.
A lil pep talk from Maggie Smith: don’t be afraid of the red pen!
The least ‘pick me’ girl thing about me is that I, like many other girls, have a complicated relationship with my body and what I put in it. Unfortunately, a lot of coverage of the Wicked press tour has been around how skinny the two leads, Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande, look. It has triggered my own body image issues and for others, too.. I’m also trying to be mindful about the way I talk about my body and appearance in front of my future kid. Maybe we can start by not commenting on celebrity bodies.
Holidays are rough for countless of reasons. One of them being the way they disrupt your routines. I found these tips for finding a balance between productivity and prioritizing rest helpful.
The divine discontent: when does the pursuit of unhappiness turn into self-hate? A sobering read from someone who considers Being Sad™️ a key part of her personality.
taking: affirmations and compliments!
I’m trying to be better at taking— no, sorry, asking for what I need. and right now, I need some recognition. I’ve been in the throes of bureaucracy and at the mercy of civil servants’ discretionary power; whether it’s the migration agency, healthcare system, bank, social insurance agency, and my own home country’s consulate. you’re acutely aware of your invisibility. you’re constantly being misrecognized. because of some bad apples, you have to jump through hoops to show you’re an honest person. proving you belong or that you rightfully deserve care or are legitimately struggling is difficult. I suspect it’s the case for everyone, but perhaps more so for someone who is riddled with as much shame and self-loathing as me.
in the many other ways I feel inadequate, I’ve also been struggling with my lack of self-sufficiency. from simple things like getting up from a chair to keeping track of when to apply for parental leave. I imagine myself being completely out of my depth if I were a single.
lastly, my corporal self. nothing humbles you more than being pregnant. and there is nothing like being pregnant to remind you that your experience on this Earth is entirely an embodied one. I feel like I’m failing as a mother already because I don’t eat well all the time, or I don’t exercise as much, or drink as much water, or sleep enough. when you’re told your blood pressure is high and your baby is not quite growing within the normal range, it adds insult to injury.
I feel like I’m failing on all fronts. so, if I had to take anything (other than your attention, which I have right now), is maybe—just maybe—if the people who love me, if they would be so kind, to love me a little louder?
or if you’d prefer to remain private, shoot me a message:
it will go a very long way for this overwhelmed mom-to-be.
I’ve been…
giving an unusual amount of thought to breastfeeding, namely, will my Big Bouncy Boobs™ even be able to produce milk to feed my baby? will my baby properly latch on? will I feel like a failure if I have to resort to formula? will I be able to pump enough milk so Elis can be equally involved in feeding the baby? will I leak all the time? am I going to have a lot of let-down to warrant one of those silicone milk collectors you can stick in your bra?
taking a lot of deep breaths as I struggle to walk up stairs, hills, and other forms of elevation. also, taking deep breaths when it all feels too overwhelming or the baby is kicking on my bladder when I couldn’t be further away from a bathroom.
having a fun time showing off my belly in clothes. after years of avoiding certain colours and styles, sucking in my stomach, posing in certain angles, and refusing to wear anything tight, I’ve finally given up. my belly houses a human right now and I want everyone to see! fully embracing my ✨beached whale szn✨ and doing away completely with the idea of a beach body. my stretch marks, on the other hand…
struggling with the winds of change. friends from my cohort are finishing up their doctoral degrees, my life as I know it will be changing and so will my relationships. my body is changing!! I legitimately cried after a spin class the other day because I couldn’t stand or keep pace like I used to. Elis called me and I just started crying on the train (my preferred place to cry). I’ve never been good with change, mainly because I don’t believe in my ability to withstand change. this time, I just don’t really want things to change.
challenging the need to overconsume. it’s been an uphill battle! I am Sisyphus and my willpower to not spend is the rock. I must find some kind of meaning in this endless task, but it’s getting heavy and I don’t know how much strength I have left in me to keep carrying the rock of fiscal responsibility.
worrying about the general trend towards bringing the mustache back. unless you’re Tom Selleck, I don’t know if I really wanna see men with mustaches. my Timmy boy is sporting one now, and so is my Chris baby. me no likey.
tackling my own limiting beliefs. I’m not fundamentally bad, I know that at an intellectual level. but then why do I feel so rotten to the core? why do I feel like I’m a waste of space? why am I walking apology for my existence?
procrastinating on pre-natal classes, clearing out the closet for baby, packing my hospital bag, buying newborn essentials, and just the practicalities of child-rearing. part of it is me feeling like I have “time” and the other part is due to this perhaps naive notion that people have raised children with far less in the past. I don’t know; my type A personality is stressed about it and I want to make sure I’m doing all the right things but my tired ass that’s getting very little sleep and is in some form of mild discomfort at all times has no energy to deal with it. future Elida, this is going to be your problem, I’m afraid.
creating art with my hands! I’m making a scrapbook from the polaroids and little notes I made people write during the baby shower/parenthood party. of course, I’m making Christmas cards, too.
feeling underprepared. every time I say this to parents, they all say the same thing, “you will never feel ready”. I’m in my third trimester and I don’t have my hospital bag packed yet. I don’t have a birth plan. we haven’t taken our classes yet. we haven’t chosen the baby’s name. we haven’t cleared up what will be the baby’s wardrobe. we don’t have a changing table yet.
accepting that emotionally and physically, I will never feel prepared for parenthood.
discovering new sides to myself. I’m not sure if I’m more tired or growing into my anger, but I am much quicker to anger now than before.
listening to the kind voice in my head, and less to the mean one constantly berating me.
watching Abbott Elementary and Love It or List It.
playing the role of an adult. don’t let my adult costume fool you, inside is a scared little child who has no idea what she’s doing. I’ve been feeling like such a baby lately and it feels illegal for a baby to have a baby.
making do with the time I have. I rot in bed a little longer. I don’t give myself too hard of a time for luxuriating, or as Elis would call it, "being decadent”. my life will no longer be my own in two months, let me live!!
doing a lot of emotional labor and academic household tasks. a gift (I like doing it and I’m pretty good at it at this point) and a curse (I don’t have the wherewithal).
postscript
I mention this all the time, but it is so important it bears repeating: I am so grateful for your readership. when attention is the highest currency, I am so humbled that you’d choose to spend yours on this silly little writing experiment. the days are long, but life is short, so thank you for walking with me.
I wish you a ‘holiday’ season full of rest and recovery. I wish for you strength to tend to your tender parts (grief, loneliness, and a general sense of melancholy are particularly rampant for me this time of year). I hope that you choose the path of least resistance. I hope you give yourself permission to lean into joy and love and warmth and the places and faces that make you feel welcomed. I hope you’re always choosing to be kind to yourself. this moving rock is infinitely better with you on it. <3
You’ll hear from me again sooner than you think!
lots of love,
eeshkie
HAI i read this while eating bwekky :) pls keep writing and posting! I can relate with a few things in here, and thank you for putting it into words so magically! -elizer
Thank you for writing and sharing what’s been going on in the mind of Elida - it’s so thoughtful and honest. reading it feels like we’re still connected even from far away ❤️ -Cecilia