2018 - The unfinished one I never published...Oops..here ya go I guess

I am truly, truly terrible at keeping up with blogging. 

Holy crap, it's been an entire year. Looking back at my previous entry, I am proud to say that I have grown immensely from where I was last year in a lot of ways. I still struggle with some of the same things, the physical limitations, and my anxiety will be a lifelong battle, but even on those fronts I have made some progress.

Let's look at the last year in review compared to the previous entry. 

Last year at the end of July, I had just come off of performing at the Fierce Queer International Burlesque Festival and I was left puzzling over my identity as a performer and as a human being.

July 2017 vs 2018 - just as naked, with less hair

One of the elements I was learning about what my interaction with competitions and how I didn't enjoy being a part of them. I can say that I stand by this revelation, I've not entered competitions since, and it has been a total relief to the emotional strain being in them caused. I'm proud of and happy for my friends and cohorts who put themselves out there and compete, grow, and become champions. It's most definitely not for me.

Shout out to these champions! Velvet Hearts bringing home the medal!

The anxiety surrounding festivals has improved for me in the last year. A lot of it is knowing more and more of the community, and feeling more comfortable and confident in myself as a performer. It's still a struggle for sure though. I just returned from the Buxom Blaze Burlesque Festival, the FIRST EVER PLUS SIZE FESTIVAL, and although everyone was very kind, incredible, and supportive, those pervasive thoughts creeped up on me.  It was a unique experience for me in traveling alone, and not knowing many people there. I'm not someone who bonds easily or quickly most of the time, so as much as I wanted to really connect with so many performers, doing so over a weekend unless we are spending a lot of time together just doesn't happen for me. I did, however get a chance to bond with my wonderful roomies, Dottie Comma and Bea Trouble, and that was absolutely wonderful.

OH-IO was representing at #BigHof!

As far as that bit last year about desirability and sexual identity, I've made so much progress. I'm much more out than I have ever been, even went so far as to touch on it slightly with a few members of my conservative family. I've leaned into my queer identity and I am on a solid path to further discovery. Recently I watched a video of Rachel Wiley of an excerpt from her book Nothing is Okay and in it she says something similar to my sentiments before, when self-love of your body is hard won, asking someone else to accept you immediately seems like so much to ask for. When you've spent decades building up that love, it seems difficult to believe that someone could immediately do so.

Understanding My Limitations

This past weekend was the best that I have had in a long time. There were some definite highs and lows, but over all, I am thankful to have had the experiences that came along with it all. More than anything I learned about myself, more about where I am, what is holding me back, and where I want to go.

The Fierce! Queer International Burlesque Festival and the Pennsylvania Burlypicks brought me to Pittsburgh for 5 days. There's something odd about spending time with a completely different crowd of people in a place that used to be my home. It's a little surreal to visit the places that built so much of my life, almost unattached from the experiences that meant a lot to my formative years.

I'm from here.

But I digress.

During these events, I had the chance to examine aspects about myself both as a person and a performer, specifically my limitations.

A major limitation for me right now is physical. My heart wants to do the splits and learn aerials, to flip and jump, to make it through a full hour long class of dance with a legendary teacher. But the truth is that I can't, not at this point. I've spent the last several years in a job where I am sitting all day, and I rarely get up to stretch because I become hyper-focused and engrossed in my work. The stress level that comes with it leaves me wiped out at the end of the day, barely able to function some days. As a result of this, all of my once-flexible muscles are tense and in knots, I have poor balance, and quite frankly, I often feel physically weak. As I performed over the weekend, and on reflecting on those performances and viewing video, I could see how these limitations detracted from my numbers. Something that I could make into a signature piece is dampened by them. I know none of this is sexy, it's not something I am proud of, and it's hard for me to talk about this in any public way. I've known I have had these limitations, but this week really put a fine point onto it.

It does not impede my ability to eat glitter however

Saturday night was another experience that cemented my knowledge of my ability to handle things, specifically my anxiety when it comes to interacting with people whom I respect and when I care about their impressions of me. It was a tough night for me. The panic attack crept up on me gradually, then all at once. This is not the first time that being at a festival has given me a panic attack. It happened at my first, and again this spring while I was out of town. I thought it would be less of an issue now that I know a good number of people, at least as acquaintances, within the community, especially in a place where I knew so many of the home team crowd. I was quite wrong, and by the end of the first show, I had to leave the building, escape from people, and let the tears flow as I struggled to breathe. It took a long walk and a good amount of time for me to come down. Thank you to the wonderful humans who checked on me and showed me that they cared.

This sass face is a lie

I had a similar feeling invading my Sunday night at Burlypicks. I am not a competitive person, and I don't particularly like the idea of using this art form that has been an outlet of expression as a piece to be judged upon. I know some people love to compete, and earning a title gives them a solid sense of accomplishment. But for me, it's another level stress that I've learned I do not want. So performing a piece for judgment which I had created on a subject near to my nerdy little heart in front of a crowd that may or may not have understood what I was referencing, on top of being acutely aware of my physical limitations, sent me spiraling. I could not wait to get out of the smoky basement and the building, for the night to be over. I paced, moved from place to place, feeling unwanted in every spot. I didn't stick around for the group picture at the end of the night because my anxiety was on high and my skin was crawling. I was battling myself trying to stay friendly, I wanted to say my goodbyes to people, and it was so difficult for me to put on that face.

This fire saw some things

After Burlypicks, I decided I did want to visit the after-party, a relaxed space with a smaller crowd sounded more manageable. While this evening was indeed quite magical, it brought another vivid realization to a head. I'm not comfortable with my sexuality. I'm not sure when this happened, but somewhere along the way, I became uncomfortable with myself in a way that lost my ability to tap into the part my brain which allows me to engage in real desire. The entire weekend was full of beautiful, amazing humans who had me swooning. Between classes, performing, and mingling, being around people who seemed to be so in touch with their sexuality made me acutely aware of my fears surrounding disbelief in my own desirability.  When it came to me being desired even in casual or joking position, I deflected as hard as I could. I joke, acknowledge how awkward I feel, or just generally don't know how to handle myself. And I hate being like that.

"why am I like this" - me to me

My journey to self love has been a long one, and though I struggle like most people do, I am generally in a good place. I love myself, I earned this love after years of beating myself up, trying to fit an ideal created by industries looking to sell me products based on creating insecurities. What I do not understand is why this specific piece is not included under my umbrella of self love. I suspect some of it is that I am fairly recently out as pansexual, so I am going through some growing pains in coming to terms with what that means to me. I'm still very much intimidated in expressing those feelings to other people.

So where do I go from here?

First off, I am determined to spend more time practicing burlesque moves and techniques as well as building my strength. I have a tendency to want to do those things, but when it comes to making it a reality, I often fail. I'm actively looking for a rehearsal space, because I do not really have one. This goal is my top priority. The number one thing that's said to me, especially from other performers, is that they love my costuming. While it's nice to hear that because I've dedicated so many hours to my costumes, it also is sometimes the only thing I hear. So I will be working on leveling up my moves, choreography, and polish. I'll be spending the next year less on developing new acts, and more on the aforementioned polish of existing numbers.

I'll be neglecting you a bit, babies

As far as dealing with my anxiety in these situations, it's always going to be a challenge for me. But I will do my best to fight the voice in my brain that tells me I am unwelcome and undeserving. I make a lot of assumptions that people's view of me is negative until they tell me otherwise, and I'm aware that it's not a healthy way to deal with people. And I will also need to recognize when I should give myself some space. The fear of missing out is strong, but I have to remind myself that sometimes it's okay to not Do All The Things™  all of the time.

Stop that

On the last topic...I am not sure how to fix it. I need to spend more time in introspection about why I have this block. Advice is welcome here.

Overall, I've come away from the experience feeling a sense of relief in these realizations. I'm so grateful to have been included in such an incredible festival and to have made new friends along the way. I'm certainly looking forward to next year. Is it 2018 yet?

Blog Reboot

I had intended to chronicle my experience as a performer as I went. Show by show, I was going to bring readers along on my journey. As it turns out, I am not great at keeping up with that plan. So here I am, two years into my journey as a burlesque performer, just off my first out of town festivals, making schedules for months in advance, and trying to hustle with a rhinestone business to fund my new creations and travels.

I recently posted to facebook a year by year photoset from 2013 to 2017. I feel as though in some ways I haven’t changed much. My life has changed quite a lot since then, especially in comparison to early 2013.

 Ohhhh 2013. That was the year I bought a house and got married. My stress levels from having both those things happening simultaneously was through the roof. I know my old coworkers can attest to how loopy I was through that whole period. Going into that year I was convinced I would be able to keep it together, stay laid back. I did not, not at all. But anywaaaaay, that year was also the year I changed muggle jobs and really began feeling like a competent grownup human. Between everything, 2013 was definitely my biggest step into full-blown adulting.

But something was missing.

All of my adult life I have struggled to satisfy the creative beast that lurks in the corridors of my soul. Early on I made a commitment to prioritize education and a traditional path to create some realm of stability and comfort when it came to taking care of my family. I’ve always known I would need to, at the very least to be capable of, head my household, regardless of who that household contained. So throughout my twenties, I focused on my studies and finding steady, gainful employment. While those small successes I was able to find did give me a sense of accomplishment, the weight on me imposed by the lack of a creative outlet made me feel like a husk of a human being. I dabbled in some things, but I could not get myself to consistently create, especially in a situation where I would be alone in trying to do so.  

I found my way to burlesque in strange way.

Back somewhere around 2008 I had seen an episode of Wife Swap that featured Ravenna Black, a burlesque dancer in Seattle. It intrigued me, but seemed unrealistic for me, with my then situation as a consistently broke 24 year old student and mom, with body hangups, living in a fairly conservative region. My thoughts held me back, as they often do. Was there anything even like that around here? I don’t think they’d accept me even if there was.  

Fast forward to 2014. I had been living in Ohio for a while, and my very occasional outings to the local gay bars were my big outlet for socialization. I very often drunkenly and with some consistency, would run into one young fellow at these bars. He reminded me of a friend from high school, and boozed-up-me decided we should be friends. Because of this wonderful human who I can now actually call a friend, I found my way to the Cleveland Burlesque scene and enrolled in a class with Cleveland Burlesque Academy. I had no idea how much of an impact this would have on my world going forward.

Originally I had no intention of performing publicly. I just wanted to take a dance class. But over the months of classes and learning that maybe this would be a good fit for my ever-looming need for a creative outlet, performing became the end goal.

The first time I hit the stage, I was an emotional wreck. I held to together beforehand and gave it my all when I stepped out there to perform. I’ve had some newbie performers be surprised when I share how nervous I was (and still sometimes am), and even some people who were there for the show didn’t see how awkward, panicky, and disoriented I felt while on stage. My nerves apparently didn’t show as much as I thought, and I made it out alive. Of course, once I stepped off stage and hit the little backstage area, I went into full anxiety meltdown.

Honestly, the first few times I put myself on that stage, it was a struggle, but I am glad I did it and for all the incredible experiences I’ve had. I think that's where I will leave it for now.

I promise to try my best to keep consistently updating here so you can come along on this journey with me. <3