Did I pass or fail this conversation?

yes, I am crazy.

When you stop editing yourself, people don’t always know what to do with you.

Writing has been hard for me recently.

I’m not sure if my lack of creativity stems from other elements of my life, poor sleep, constantly having to be creative at work, or even my dedication to hobbies, but the more I try to put my feelings onto paper, the harder I find it to leave evidence of them, for fear they’ll later be discussed as “crazy.”

Yes, crazy.

One thing I’ve noticed recently is the fact that everyone seems to have an opinion on:

• What I’m doing

• How I’m thinking

• My feelings (and whether they’re my fault)

• How I’m exerting those feelings in my own version of emotional regulation

• And sometimes even when I speak these feelings out loud, people seem to react more to the fact that I admitted them than to the feelings themselves, even when they have nothing to do with them.

Basically, an overall analysis of what I do and how I do things in the 24 hours of my day.

I’m going to use pole dancing as an example because it has been prevalent in my lifestyle recently.

“Oh, you do pole dancing? I could never do that.”

“That’s not true! You totally could if it’s something you’re interested in.”

“But that would be a waste of time because I’m not very good at it.”

“Honestly, everyone starts somewhere, but you learn a lot along the way, how you like to learn, discipline, it’s like anything else.”

“Not everyone can be like you.”

Or a more conversational example:

“Oh, you do pole dancing? I’ve heard that’s really hard.”

“Yeah, it actually is, but I’m super proud of it.”

“Wow, you just, like, admitted that.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Don’t get me wrong, these people weren’t malicious at all, but I did think it was an interesting example of how people can be taken aback by such a small change in the routine of conversation.

When recently sharing these experiences with different people, my responses were deemed as “crazy” or “insane” because I went off script, so to speak. I understand we all live as different versions of ourselves in other people’s heads, but I don’t know if it’s because I’m a woman but the “instability” of my words or actions can make me come across as a crazy or intimidating person when, in fact, this is probably the most comfortable and sane I’ve felt in my entire life, because I like/understand myself.

I feel emotionally regulated, smacking the shit out of a pillow when I’m angry.
The aggressive nature of pole dancing helps my anxiety as well as my confidence.
Laughing at silly things day to day helps release dopamine and feels better than scrolling through my phone.
And scream-singing in the car gives me confidence in my voice before a big presentation, to name a few.

Outside looking in, I’m emotionally unstable, chaotic, and vulnerable because I’ve come across as though I’ve lost control, when sometimes losing control in your own capacity, in your own controlled space, gives you the freedom of taking control in a constantly changing world.

Why is it that women are encouraged to be desired, expressive, interesting, and confident, but punished the second that confidence is in the room with us?

Now, if any men are reading this, please know you are not my enemy, but a lot of these examples have come from men.

I believe I deserve respect, whether I’m having a conversation or I’m up for a debate, I have had no time to research.
I guess the frustration I have with everyday conversation is the desire for whimsy, yet the lack of commitment.

Especially when my whimsy is an opportunity for you to question my intelligence.

We are getting criticised more and more for “not knowing things” when we have so much access to the internet, but then criticised when we’re on it and told to go outside and touch some grass.

Don’t come for a conversation with me, then attack my logic. Don’t set me up for success and take the punchline. When I ask for help, don’t make me feel like an idiot about it, and when I come to you with something I’ve learnt, don’t try to be smarter than me, especially when I can tell you don’t know the answer.

Recently, I had a conversation with my therapist about being side-jabbed in conversation with strangers. There’s a difference between analysing to know someone and putting them on trial. It’s like my personality, and my opinion are up for discussion by others when I was the one who literally started the conversation.

And these aren’t discussions that aren’t deep, yet they question my intelligence and my ability to hold a conversation or shrink my ego when I’m beaming across the room, then hate it when I no longer feel the need to interact with them

Which I feel is ironic considering my long-term goal is to be an artist and my pieces will soon be claimed and altered by the public, when art could be considered best served when it’s for the artist and their enjoyment of their process.

One of the reasons I’m deeply passionate about media is the conversations around TV shows and movies, being a third party to connect with a friend, family member, or colleague. I can’t thank music festivals enough for the common ground of introducing and meeting friends through their love of live music in an open space.

My therapise suggested that when these signs or feelings come up, not to call out the conversation but put the terms on the table:

“Would you like to debate about this? Because I was just up for a rant, I actually don’t care.”

Or:

“I actually want to play in this space, tell me more.”

Not gonna lie, that’s helped me quite a bit when it comes to these doubts. I’ve also started to use, “Cool, where did you learn that?” (in a mostly sincere way… kinda). If you’re gonna steamroll my whimsy, I’m gonna fact-check yours???

Recently, I saw Elouise Eftos and her comedy show Aphrodite at the comedy festival, where she spoke about women being fuelled to be desired and limited.
Yet, men can be told at a young age they can do whatever they want, but still fear something as simple as dancing.

It’s such a shame!

Romantically, I usually attract men who want the manic pixie dream girl experience.
Who wants the cool girl who does pole dancing, works in the industry, and seems interesting to show off to all their friends. When in reality, I stand next to them and, in my experience, make them feel “lesser than” because I’m “so intense”.

My friends will tell you I’m a bit of a rage baiter. I like to play, poke, “yes and”, and tease (they also call me a bit of a flirt). But overall, I like the idea of giving someone the space to have a bit of whimsy in their conversation when they’re probably having the same conversations over and over again.

I guess one of my biggest fears when it comes to relationships is the exhaustion of my testing and ever-changing interests when it comes to my ability to hold a conversation. As well as the intimacy of wanting to get to the heart of how people think, especially in a way that might feel disarming and therefore regretful later, like a kid who’s eaten too much sugar at the school dance.

“Why did I engage with her again?”

When in reality, I just love people.

But yet I can be seen as their enemy or “not taken seriously” because my approach is a bit different and silly.

Having physical copies of my writing scares me at the moment because if I struggle to express myself and what I’ve learnt on a day-to-day basis recently, then how can I be taken seriously with something I love doing without questioning if it even appeals to an audience at all?

Is it too much? Too little?

In the future, I challenge you to “yes and,” a conversation and don’t be afraid to learn something new about something else, someone else or even yourself.

And I’ll keep trying to write, I promise.