September was a whirlwind of new experiences and feelings. Internally, I felt the pull of dueling desires and the nagging fear of not knowing. I also felt like maybe I was finally inhabiting this new skin I’ve excavated from a decade’s worth of conditioning, embellishing it with new tassels and baubles that feel like home to me. As I fully inhabit this skin, I’m learning how to actually take up space with it. Taking up space with it isn’t just about how I allow my body to fill a room but how I ask for what I need, how I listen to this new skin’s wants, how I make myself present to the change happening in it.
This month, I turned 36 and somehow I didn’t feel incapacitated by grief around it. My birthday came and went with less sadness than in previous years, a welcomed departure from the sob fests of the last several years. I did feel grief, to be sure, but I also felt love and gratitude and a quiet excitement about what’s to come. A lot of curiosity, too. At this moment I don’t feel daunted by my age but free because of it.
I have a lot of love in my life right now, so much that I don’t know what to do with it sometimes. I’m learning that love isn’t something that I need to do something about, more like an experience I need to be in. This year’s theme has been heavy on the double-edged sword that is profound love and bitter heartbreak, and I’m learning that one will always follow the other, a cycle that is not as vicious as previously thought but more neutral and impersonal like the way seasons change or the way the moon explores and lets go of its fullness without needing to consult you about it.
I stood up for myself many times this month and in that, I learned that standing up for myself is less about trying to achieve a particular, more favorable outcome and more about the radical act of self-advocacy and protection, regardless of what comes from it. I realized I don’t stand up for myself often; or, at least, I don’t make it explicit when my feelings have been hurt or a need hasn’t been filled. The people-pleaser in me has been revealed more than ever this month and rather than just trying to correct it, I’m trying to dignify its presence, remembering that it’s here because it’s trying to stave off ostracization. I’m learning how to stay close to myself even if it means I lose closeness to others—especially if losing that closeness, ultimately, is better than abandoning myself, despite losing that closeness feeling worse.
As summer comes to an end, I don’t feel my usual depression about it but a readiness to transition into new energy, new pacing. I’m ready to pull more into myself and I’ve noticed that it’s already been happening. I haven’t been as active on social media and I didn’t write as much here as I would’ve liked. Sharing my life on the internet in the ways I’ve done for the last 20 years no longer feels possible for me anymore. Though I’m uncomfortable with it, it’s becoming more and more clear that I need to live my life in private and nourish my offline persona, something that I feel unsure of but curious about. But honestly, all of that’s a story for another time.
Here are some sensual + memorable moments that stood out for me in September.