I recently gathered a handful of talented artists into one post and commented about how one of them created pieces that looked like the doll house of my childhood dreams. My mother, an avid reader of my newsletter, aptly noted in the comments, “Nina cared for fire engine trucks and water guns, not so much doll houses”.
It caught me off guard as I questioned a belief I had about myself based on external pressures, like liking dollhouses which seemingly wasn’t true, because I apparently liked fire engine trucks and water guns. This isn’t the first time someone in my family or an old friend has clarified an inconsistent thought I have about myself. It’s taken me nearly 30 years to notice how much of myself I’ve lost to those external pressures. In an effort to be someone everyone else liked, I forgot the cardinal effort of becoming the person I liked.
I’m not entirely sure what happened over the last couple years, though I could point to a number of things like COVID solitude, releasing a bunch of friends, living with my quite critical brother, being fired, going to therapy.. it could be any or all of that or it could just be this unexplainable energy of approaching 30.
Whatever tipped the scales, I’ve reached a point where I’ve lost the patience to put up with people and places I don’t like. That impatience and indifference has resulted in much less time spent trying to please others. And now, with all the available, high-powered headspace I’ve reclaimed, I have started to dig up Nina. She’s a version of me who at some point I must have gagged and buried to keep her quiet and still while I ran away to build the version of me that everyone else would find fun and palatable.
You’d think this would be a sort of amazing and freeing feeling, like coming home after a long trip, but actually it’s exhausting, confusing, and sometimes scary. Not to take away from the sincerity of this narrative, but I’ve been watching Brooklyn 99 for the first time and I can confidently say it feels like what the character Adrian Pimento goes through. He was undercover for 12 years as a gruesome hitman for a bad guy and now has to assimilate back into his old life as a cop at the 99. It’s a shit show and he’s constantly fighting the undercover version of himself to become the old cop version of himself again. It’s silly, but true. I find myself choosing each day, multiple times per day to behave like the Nina who I might have become. You might think this would be easy because I’m just supposed to “do what feels good”, but I don’t really know what would feel good to her because I’ve ignored her for so long. I don’t really know who she is, but she’s me.
Thoughts? Feelings? Reactions?
Anyway, the point of this post is that I need new friends and new hobbies in New York because she doesn’t like most of my old ones or she didn’t give the good ones a fair shot the first time around.
Needless to say, you've got PLENTY of time to become the "old" Nina or a new one of whatever in-between. While our hobbies don't necessarily align, my I recommend climbing? There are a few good places in Bklyn, some of them I've been to myself. It's a totally different crowd with different understanding of good and bad, I think you'd find refreshing. And yay, go fire engine trucks and water guns!!!
Oh Neen Bean!!! I love you!!! Inquiry is where we begin!! Excited to play next time we convene on land!