the safety blanket
by indi, 2022
“she” is a safety blanket.
not in a warm and cozy way but in a crinkly reflective mylar way.
the kind that you use in an emergency to survive, not the kind you curl up with on the couch on a fall evening. the kind that comes in first aid kits and camping packs and is handed out during natural disasters.
the reflective surface can become whatever the perceiver wants it to be, a mirror of expectations, performance, and fantasy.
it does it’s job ok, it keeps you alive and safe. it has done so for many years but you’re starting to realize there’s a difference between surviving and living. you know that its time to shed this emergency blanket to find your warm plush comfort, the promise of a home to wrap yourself in.
but even with the discomfort of the tin foil-esqe covering, it’s somehow hard to let go of “her”.
what if someone takes your soft blanket away and you’re stuck out in the cold without even that thin metallic blanket? what if it’s still not warm enough and you have to bear the cold once again searching for a warmer one? what if you finally find your new blanket but people only ever ask why you would get rid of your old shiny one?
or even worse, keep handing you mylar blanket after mylar blanket and forcing you to accept it no matter how many times you try to tell them how warm you are?
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validation
by indi, 2022
this body has never felt like my own. it feels like a costume i put on some time ago but the cheap plastic zipper broke off of it at some point and i can’t get it off. so like me to rely on metaphors to illustrate my point because i think it makes me sound deeper and more intelligent than i am.
this body brings me praise and approval and has truly gotten me everything i’ve ever wanted. by ridding myself of this body it feels as though i’m surrendering the only real power i’ve wielded.
how sad that i don’t know what or who i am if not pretty.
i suppose i needed this in order to realize that my need for validation is more important to me than living my truth. i’m working on it. “awareness is the first step” they say.
i’ve heard no stories from people like me, late bloomers, people that were so invested in this persona they created and benefitted from it so much that they feel lost without it. it’s always stories of finally feeling found, feeling at home, feeling at peace. i’m giving up my privilege for rejection and even hate. doesn’t that sound crazy to any sane person?
i don’t know if the voice in the back of my head is telling me that it’s a mistake because it is “just a phase” or if it’s purely self preservation. but denial is a river and i’m drowning in it.
how weak and pathetic i feel for letting pretty win time and time again. with family and friends. with teachers and peers. with the person helping me lift my suitcase into the overhead compartment on a crowded flight or helping me check the air in my tires on a cold night. door after door being held for me. smiling strangers on the street.
with him. and him.
and also him
and even her.
i keep waiting for an answer that never comes. for the smoke to clear and reveal the path to self actualization and fulfillment. empty sentiments bounce around in my head like the ones you see on rainbow-washed corporate pride merchandise at big department stores that ends up on clearance july 1st. “be yourself” “live your truth” “it gets better”
here i go with the metaphors again. nobody ever tells you how to get from A to B and how lonely it is. but then again, im probably just looking for others to validate me.
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by indi – they/them – IG @luvthat.4u
indi/tessa is the founder, curator, and editor-in-chief of HELLA mag. they grew up on the beautiful island of maui and now reside in the queer capital of the US, the bay area, california. no matter what medium, self-expression is a number one priority of theirs and they wish to connect with the world through their work and empower others to express themselves by giving them an independent, authentic, and earnest platform. a magazine for us.
