canadian beauty (warning: f bombs)

TEXT:

Nov. 13^th, 2003 

Last night my girlfriend got high and twitched. Today my best friend confirmed she had sex with my other best friend. It sucked to here it from Caleb. Ah well, I’ll get over it. Life’s not that hard… 

Nov. 23^rd, 2003

If you’re going to write, you might as well write well. I hate writing because I can never decide what to put down on the paper. I wish that I could step outside myself. Step outside this moment. Look at everything that is happening and see the bigger picture… play God. I think that I need to learn how to properly live in the moment. My brain is in some limbo right now and I can’t make my mind up about anything.

I wonder who has read this book. I guess it would be naïve to think that someone else other than myself has not read this book. I wonder what trouble writing is going to give me as I grow up. Why share my secrets with paper… are they safer in my head, I’m not so sure anymore! Sexuality! What taboo! I can’t even touch it with a stick I’m scared to write it down. Hello those are reading this. I will answer your questions in a minute. Gay, straight, gay, straight, who knows what the hell is going on anymore? 

Thank you God for making me attracted to everyone and being more open for it. Fuck you God for having me live in a constant state of paranoia because of it. Fuck I don’t even know what closet I’m hiding in. LOL How ironic.

Anna, things went well last night. You know you’re a Winnipegger when you can have a smoke and make out while simultaneously freezing your ass off. We talked about sex, well somewhat I guess. Looks like I’m the only virgin left standing in the room again, I love it.

TIP – never get a job at a grocery store; sometimes there’s so much fucking (or not) stuff going on in this world I can’t handle it. BEEP BEEP. “Sometime’s there so much beauty in the world, I can’t take it” – American Beauty. Fucking (my name) - Canadian Beauty, you gotta love it.

Seriously I feel like I’m experiencing all emotions possible at the same time. I’m so white I’m fucking not only absorbing all the colours in the spectrum I got everything else. SHUT UP INEXPERIENCED 18 YEAR OLD FIRST YEAR FIRST WORLD LOVING FAMILY & FRIENDS STUDENT or I could continue.

I cry on the inside. → HOKEY! Man if I could shed some tears for a change wouldn’t that be the day! Last time I cried was with Julianne Potter [which was] subsequently also my first drunken experience. How tragic.

NOTES:

date: nov 13^th and nov 23^rd, 2003
age: 18
location: Winnipeg, MB.

background info:

Not really sure! I must have been feeling particularly dramatic this winter evening because I was certainly dropping a lot of F bombs. This entry reads like an uncensored monologue by Brenda Walsh. If only I watched more of Beverly Hills 90210 back then, I probably could have sorted some of this stuff out.

between the lines: insights/reflections

In some sense right now, I feel as if this post resists reflection. I kind of just want to write “it is what it is” in this section and leave it at that. However, I do want to expand on a couple of points that I feel are worth noting.

1.0 Life inside the Closet

From this moment in time, March 2012, I cannot tell you what life inside the closet was like. I wrote this eight years ago from a different reality with a different brain. Thinking back now, I can remember certain things, like how tired I felt having to keep a secret all the time. I think that is half the reason I am so open about everything these days because I know how draining it can be to keep any part of your self hidden. It is exhausting having to watch your every move and sound, thinking the entire time “do they know? What if they know? They must know.”  

What’s interesting is that, reading this now, it is clear I wanted to be found out. I am pretty much asking someone to read my journal – inviting them in, “Hello those are reading this. I will answer your questions in a minute.” I wouldn’t be surprised if at this point in time, I left my journal hanging around the house, or out on a desk while I was at school. If I wasn’t going to relieve myself of the pressure I was under, I wanted someone else to do it for me.

I remember when I first came out to my Aunt she said, “I have known since you were three-years old.” I replied in the passenger seat of her big blue van, “Then why didn’t you tell me?? Why didn’t anyone tell me?” She didn’t answer then, but of course I understand now that, that is not how life works. When someone is on a journey, even though you might able to see the finish line from where you're standing, they still have to run the course.

I do believe my journal was a good part of the reason I made it through coming out. When you have a secret, you have to get it out. Otherwise, it will destroy you in ways you never thought possible. My only advice to someone who finds themselves currently living in a closet is, write your secret down. Burn the pages afterwards but never stop writing it down.

2.0 Sexual Frustration

Heavens! Talk about being pent up! At this point, I was definitely aware of everyone in my life having sex, and even more aware of the fact that I wasn’t having it. All I can say is that being a teenager wouldn’t be nearly the same without some degree of concern about getting laid. If I went back in time and tried explaining to my eighteen-year-old-self that sex is over-rated, he probably wouldn’t have anything to do with it! Nowadays, I have nothing but appreciation for a single life. I don’t have to shave, watch what I eat, and my lower back hasn’t hurt in months!

3.0 #firstworldproblems

“Seriously I feel like I’m experiencing all emotions possible at the same time. I’m so white I’m fucking not only absorbing all the colours in the spectrum I got everything else.” I think I must have read some book about rainbows, because I think I was trying to make a clever metaphor here about the colour white, but instead I just sound racist! Just to be clear, that was not my intention, it was just bad writing.  One thing I am guilty of in these pages is constantly invalidating my emotions. I believed that because I had a roof over my head, food on the table, two parents and a private school uniform, I had no right to complain about anything in life. And while I am not trying to say that I wasn’t incredibly fortunate growing up, because I was, I do wish to say that denying yourself feelings doesn’t help the situation get better. It wasn’t until I learned how to validate my struggle and say, “this is hard” that life suddenly became much easier.