genesis and the pea

somethings poking my back, its nagging and prodding into my skin and i dont know how to remove it

I can’t express how much this song has meant to me since it came out. Words can’t explain.

When I was a kid, I was obsessed with fairy tales, particularly the ones with romantic stories that helped the princesses find the one thing that made them complete. I suppose, in a way, it's drawn me to my current path in life: writing stories of women tortured by their minds, believing that a fantastical love could save them. But I don’t suppose those are the stories that resonate with me any longer. I ignored "The Princess and the Pea" growing up. I remember fleeting thoughts of misunderstanding as to how something as small as a singular pea could drive a princess with everything insane. How could she afford this cycle of piling mattresses perched so high onto her metaphorical white horse and still be bothered by something out of sight? I get it now. It's obsession. It's the thought that something is out of place, that things aren't just how they are supposed to be. It's the idea that maybe if she takes on more mattresses to mask an underlying discrepancy, it would fade to the back of her mind instead of the skin on her back.

A couple things: #1 I need to let my mom go back to dressing me bc my outfits used to be soooo cute. #2 I am still in love with the idea of romance and fairytales, always have been, and always will be!

I'm falling into obsession again. I used to think it was a gift that I could laser-focus my mind into singular thoughts to produce perfection. The idea that I can work so hard and still have space to grow consumes my mind in every possible way. I suppose that's why I'm so focused on myself at the moment. I keep seeing posts on social media about how "the biggest problem with girls today is that we think entirely too much about ourselves." I take it as an insult; what more could I possibly do when my whole world is wrapped around my need to advance? I wonder if New York did this to me. This need to constantly keep moving, to constantly become a better version of a girl I don't know I am. I spiraled a little at the idea a few nights ago. I traveled through Snapchat memories of myself exactly a year ago, and all I could think was how cool I looked back then. I was deciding my future, the path I would choose to take, and envisioning my future so brightly.

*I took this video on the 4th of July last year, and I was so shocked looking at it now because I was so happy. Not a single ounce of anxiety or fear I was just healthy and blissful. And the fact I wasn’t wearing any makeup in this?!? PAST ME, DROP THE SKIN CARE ROUTINE!!

The fact is, I didn’t feel cool back then. I felt like I do now. I felt inadequate, as if the life I was living wasn’t fulfilling the life I should have been achieving. It made me wonder if this was my cycle—to constantly live life on a pendulum swing, floating back and forth from the bliss of existence to the dread of self-grief. I wish I could be a little bit more like the girl I am with my rearview vision. She gets it; she could understand that the person I am now is grand, too. Maybe it's a universal thing that everyone feels but hides away.

*I had my first peaceful moment in a while a few days ago, eating a mango popsicle and watching planes while listening to “Remember Where You Are” by: Jessie

And so, in my attempts to ignore my current “pea” (aka the ever-present need to get into Barnard, be healthier, and for time to move faster), I walk. As Washington Square bleeds into Soho, and Soho morphs into Tribeca, I walk “home” until my brain can force itself to make this all worth it. To make all the time spent obsessing mean something. In the end, if all I do is lie awake at night waiting for the pea under my mattress to smush under the weight of my mind, I might as well be productive.

*went to study at Barnard and got super worried about maybe not getting in, so I went to Lush and then walked “home” from 14th Street

Notes by Gen 🫖:

This post was initially supposed to be about being an awkward black girl as a kid and my thoughts on this unfortunate experience, but as I kept putting off writing that post, my perspective shifted a bit. I might come back to the idea, but for now, this is what I'm feeling. I asked my mother to pick out photos of a younger me for that post idea because if it were left up to me, I'd probably have a breakdown that I let these photos be taken of me, let alone chosen to enter the world. But my parents have always been able to see beauty in me, even during the time when "awkward" was all I felt. My mom always told me, "One day, you'll look back at the photos and see how pretty you were," and I think she was right.

*every day, all I do is try to be more like my mom, which I can say New York (or rather moving away) definitely did to me. I’m happy with this outcome

In that same light, I'm attempting to give myself grace. I'm constantly trying to recapture this idea of who I should be, who I want to be, and who (I think) I am. It's all super exciting and consumes way too much of my brain, but for now, I’m just going to continue taking long walks and appreciating who I am now.