Over the past little while I have been processing the loss of a very significant relationship. When I look online for guidance, a lot of people say that exercise is the best way through. Exercise helps people regain confidence and independence as they grieve. The end result is their “revenge body.”
The revenge body says two things at the same time: Look at how well I’m doing/what you’re missing out on and also look at how much I miss you. It’s a positive outlet for the emotions and also a confirmation that those feelings are being felt.
I’ve never been a gym rat (except for one year in high school), and I already feel pretty good about my body thanks to being vegan and active. So instead of working out, I realized pretty quickly that writing was going to be my outlet. It always has been, but I’ve noticed myself leaning into it much more regularly, almost constantly, these days.
At some point I started to think of it as my revenge body of work.
Writing basically serves the same purpose as exercise to me. I enjoy it, it’s a distraction from life, it gives me space to process, and I can take a step back and look at all that I’ve written with a sense of pride. To some, it might even make me more attractive. It’s also a reminder of that person: the way they encouraged, read, and even reviewed specific posts in advance. The reminders are everywhere.
I have more time on my own these days, more brain space, and to some extent more clarity, all of which have been fueling my creative habit. I’ve wanted to write more regularly since I started this blog, but at some point early in my career I decided it was trivial. Then, I felt like I didn’t have anything I really wanted to share.
Coming out of the closet has given me so MUCH to say (110 drafts and counting) that I think I needed a disruption to push me to start getting more of it out there. And just like with revenge bodies, I’ve started to let go of the idea that it needs to be perfect. The value is in the action, the regularity, and the simultaneous memory and movement of letting go.
Highways and Hallowed Halls 