Welcome back,
Happy to see all of you again. A new deeply personal window into my brain. I am happy to be writing again and to divulge this piece of my psyche.
I also recorded me reading it if you would prefer to listen and hear it the way I do.
Thank you again for reading my writing <3333
the woman in white
Monday. 11:46 AM. January 24, 2022. My mind races faster than my fingers can type. It's been a long time. Well over a month of running through my brain. Of trying to be in control, of trying to move forward. I’m confident. Steps forward. Vibes forward. Energy forward. I have a plan. In my planning I have become hopeful again. I thought I would fall apart a bit more. That I would be more damaged from the fall. 2nd heartbreak. And then a 3rd from a different perspective. To be honest and vulnerable. If you are with me, in my brain you are with me forever. In yours I was temporary. To move transiently through life, straight chillin. I am trying to move towards more of that. Flustered. Feathers ruffled. You changed the course of the story I had written for us in my brain. How does one find peace and guidance— I watch a movie in my head. My day to day scene flashes to a character 20 years from now I have dreamed up. I don't remember when she appeared but it feels like she has lived with me forever. A large white desk, modern, windows with the most gorgeous view behind her. Put together, controlled, dressed in a spotless crisp white pantsuit but the cut is elevated. The details are precise, she designed it. Anything less than perfect would be impossible. It could never be. She reigns. Her sharp collar bone exposed as she leans forward on her elbows. Determined to read her opponent face to backbone. I think I am the opponent. The version of me I am now. I guess she is dressed in white because I have imagined her as some sort of angel. Not that I’m religious. I don’t think we are arguing or in a disagreement but there is a tension lingering between us. Like the woman in white is a mentor, a coach. Someone rooting for me but also criticizing me. I can feel the pressure. She wants me to succeed, to become her. So do I. I have dreamt her up because moving towards her seat at the table is my one true motivation. Becoming the woman I have always known myself to be.
She is eternal. Ethereal. Beloved. God. Honestly. In rejecting religion I developed my own to a degree. Centered around her. Obsessed. I think I created her to comfort myself. To make me feel worthy. To know that I am always working towards something. Influenced by the constant pressure and evolution of growing up along with the capitalist grind mindset— I imagined her. Because who would I be without an end goal? And she is the appropriate outcome, the expected one. The one everyone would be impressed by. Of course her whole life is perfect and everything I have ever wanted. A fantasy. And if she never comes to fruition, would that be failure? Would it be growth. If I forgot about her, would I become someone else? To reinvent is such a gift and I am thankful to have had that opportunity and to have created it over and over again. Rebranding. Turnover. Cutbacks. But she is the face of the company. Our CEO. The idiotype, a blueprint. I’m not sure who I would be without her or what I am with her. It feels like this third person invention could be toxic or too much, which is one of my biggest insecurities, being too much. But no one would look at her like she is too much, she is renowned. Being “too much” is what put her where she is now. She is eccentric and unapologetic. To invent her, I know I already am her.
Now I am always working towards her. I have fallen in love with her. I know our age difference is a bit precarious but our relationship is top tier. And like any of my other loves, I’m painting a beautiful picture. I put on my rose colored glasses and create a narrative, overlooking all the red flags. My first heartbreak, that loss of love, I decided I needed to fill the void by giving that love to myself. I do think that is part of when she was born, Isabelle. There is a way that people always say my name too that gets to me. iSABelle. Inflection in the middle of it. Like they are analyzing my potential, impressed, mesmerized by me but hesitant. Unsure of my next move. I like to think of myself as mysterious but I literally give up every thought. Read me like a book that's what I’m here for. I also know that I am so, so guarded. That there are levels of me you have to break through five feet worth of concrete to get to. That I have hidden so much away, forgotten so much, and built the woman in white to suppress. And I divulge so much. I think it's for the sake of honesty. I am both tired of creating a picture and also never want to stop. I am doing well though. Fueled by the possibility of whatever is to come. Inspired by what I see around me. Invested in my existence. Lots of ups and downs. Thanks.
the audio gave your writing even more depth and vulnerability, i loved it so much. such a great addition to your incredible writing! <3
I love how you share your vulnerability as you continue to navigate life!!