Monday, 30 April 2018

Dirty Computer; An Epiphany

Wow.
I am deceased.
My eyes have been opened.
I have been reborn.
I have seeen the light! Can the house say Amen?
You might have deduced that I have seen Dirty Computer by Janelle Monae. Remember when I said that Pynk made me jealous about the queers having an ode to their vagina, while straight folk like me are still struggling to be seen with 'Flawless' and 'Needed Me'? Well, clearly I had no idea.
Last night I got on YouTube and watched the 'emotion picture', Dirty Computer by Janelle Monae. It's free so go on and watch. One song in and I was already feeling like my life was wasted. By the time I got to the end, I was in crisis. I had to sit down and apologize to myself for the criminal neglect, all the dust I've been paying myself since forever. On Friday I wrote about the patriarchy becoming personal, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. From burning the bra to #Freethenipple, to #metoo it's all a struggle to get men to treat us as valid humans. It's like we need them to; in order to be able to validate our own beings...Today, I completely dismiss the patriarchy from my consciousness. They have taken up enough real estate in my life for too long. My son is grown, if he wants to believe the hype, that's his decision and his life.
 Not my monkey, not my circus. Let his future girlfriends deal with his shit.
As for me, I have my own journey to begin; so so late but it's never too late.
I wrote a post on Tumblr a few weeks ago about my infancy as a sexual being. 20+ years of sexual activity and I don't even really know what I like, what I hate, what works, what doesn't. I love myself as a person, as an intellectual, as a mother but do I even know myself as a woman? When I look in the mirror and I think, "Ugh, this v-neck is too low." while also thinking, "Damn I like the way it looks though." Then proceed to cover up my upper body with a sweater, or coat..who am I covering up for? Is it me? Do I dress with me in mind or with the male gaze and judgemental female gaze judging me for attracting the male gaze? Why the fuck can't I just dress for me? I'm not saying this right. I don't know how to say this right.
For the first time, watching Dirty Computer, I felt SEEN. Like just me, not as a factor of someone else's thoughts, feelings or expectations. I felt like my life was wasted because of the simplicity of Jane's relationships in those videos. The complete lack of artifice, the honesty, the looking at the other person and really seeing who they are. And I felt despair because as a straight person I felt like that possibility of that kind of relationship is closed to me.
But then the truth is that I also fell in love...With myself.
And I realized that I gotta look at myself like that. Really see me. Stop blocking the me that is a sexual being out because of things that happened long ago. Acknowledge the fact that me is enough. Everyone was enough in the emotion picture. Enough in themselves and so enough for each other. I want someone to wanna kiss my nose in the morning not just my vagina.
I even tried to make the case to myself about maybe being bisexual. But since I don't know what to do with my own equipment, I doubt adding another one to the mix will make things any clearer.
My queen, Rihanna, is releasing lingerie soon, all sizes included of course - you know she is the QUEEN of inclusion - and the promo is just coming out. And one of the models in the promo wore a bridal veil with white lingerie while being interviewed by someone off camera. She said she didn't see marriage for herself because as far as she can tell, guys just want to bust a nut and then they're done. And I was in so much agreement I might have tried to burst through the phone screen to scream "YAAASSS sis. Exactly."
That's why I am in despair of ever experiencing any of the joy and connection as depicted in Dirty Computer unless I can somehow convince myself I'm gay or at least bi. But even without the relationship part of it, I love the self-acceptance that the emotion picture gave me. Acceptance of all my glorious womanhood. I just ended my period (I think. You never know with these things. You think it's over and then ooop, there you are again) and the other day while I was in the loo contemplating the various ways in which menstruation is set up to torture me, I thought about writing a blog post about it. But then I thought, no, nobody writes about menstruation, it's a private, secret, disgusting part of womanhood that no one wants to know about.
Who is no one?
Is it women? Because all cis women be in this same boat with me.
But we don't discuss periods, or birth control or abortions or even orgasms except in secret away from the male gaze because God forbid they have to deal with all these tiresome women's issues right?
These issues are not important.
They're not valid.
But then Janelle Monae came and did a dance as a vagina and finally someone dared to show that oh, this is a great thing. This is womanhood. This is the core of humanity. Without this nobody exists.
And while I did indeed wake up like this, and he did indeed need me, I'm done looking for that validation. I'm breaking out of the patriarchy jail and embracing every aspect of my inner Savage. If you thought I was crazy before, you ain't seen nothin' yet.
Freedom!

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