Fear

I woke up and saw that my friend Charlie is starting a travelling blog and I’m jealous.

I’m jealous because she is 1, going away and travelling which I would love to do if I had the money and no cares / worries etc and 2, because she has a reason for a blog…!

I can’t tell myself that just writing for the sake of it or writing to inspire other queer creatives is enough.

I don’t think it is, to be honest, but I’m always saying nothing matters and no one cares. I’m also saying, don’t think, just do. I’m also saying do what you want, why not?

Why am I not doing any of those things when it comes to writing?

FEAR

I’m scared man. So scared that I can’t allow myself to try. It’s infuriating.

Representation matters across all forums and media’s and today I saw a woman who was posting about loving your body, no matter what your size and even if you look back on your own pictures and see you’ve gained weight, why does that mean that it’s bad? There was more to it than that but representation matters.

I don’t see many ‘average’ male bodies in my algorithm. By that, I mean anyone who looks like me. They are either really skinny or really muscular but there are no dad bods types, in their 30’s, wearing 34+ inch jeans and who has a constant double chin no matter what the angle. Then I thought, I could do it. I could do all the trends in my body, with my face, with my point of view. But then, do I want to?

I’m not big on social media, I barely post pictures let alone videos and I’m so aware of the production of videos on Insta that I don’t think I could do it because I don’t actually want to do it.

But representation matters.

I’m not doing it for me, I’m doing it for others.

Should I start doing the trends?

Should I start getting used to taking videos?

Should I start the blog?

Toni and Ryan would say FUCK YES – IYKYK – but can I?

ARGH

I feel like I’m forever searching for my purpose.

I look back to my old relationships and I really attempted to fit into their life and make it my life. My first major girlfriend, my first boyfriend when I moved city. Both times I was like HEY, PICK ME, I’ll be your missing piece. I’ll accommodate you and you will give me something I need. An opportunity to ‘do’ life.

Both relationships ended terribly because I wasn’t me. I didn’t know who ‘me’ was and maybe now, when I’m sober and trying to find me, I’m struggling.

I’m trying to find me in others – or at least I was – and I’m finding it hard to find me within me.

I don’t know what I want.

I don’t think many people do but I don’t even know where to start…

I’ve been writing similar journal posts for a while now, saying I should do X and be Y and push to become Z and I’m doing none of it.

I feel lost and confused most of the time and I’m blind to know where my next step is so I’m just treading the same steps over and over with the pull of wanting to actually move forward.

I’m not even scared of where the new path will take me, I just want to pick a path and keep on moving.

I can’t allow myself to do that. Why? I don’t know. I do not know.

I feel like I’m in a stage of becoming. Of attempting to shed parts of the old me I didn’t like, that aren’t what I want to be, and become a better version of myself. I feel like I’m close. So close to becoming but I’m still on that journey.

Still.

8 months of becoming. Feels more like 8 months of no development and going nowhere.

Is there progress? When will I see it? When will I feel it?

Will I know when I’ve become or is the aim, always and forever, to be becoming?