Division.

Back in July during an unusual rainy day I happened to be on the phone with a music producer who advised me to get back on social media. Given my big recent decision to pursue a career in the entertainment world…I couldn't help but agree.

At that point I had been off social media for about 3 years. I don’t have time on this post to expand on why, but I don’t find the reason to be shocking at all. In a nutshell I just didn’t like how it was making me feel.

There was just no way that I was simply going to hop back on it and start posting pictures of my meals: I had to find a way to make social media - instagram specifically - interesting for me once again.

I’m slowly figuring it out. Sharing my art and writing about how I feel felt like the most authentic and fun possible way for me to start.

I needed to come up with something I genuinely liked, something very pure, no showing off, at least not strategically, it had to be content that would entertain me first just so I could take both rejection and indifference. So far it’s been ok.

Back to the comeback, I recently reached 500 followers, and I secretly celebrated. It’s nice to see people like what I do or feel inspired by it, but there was something else about to come my way, something very obvious, that I forgot to take into consideration.

I have been so busy “teaching myself” to love and respect myself that I forgot that some people might find me disgusting, and might feel the urge to tell me that. I think I know why I forgot about that: I don’t have it in me. There is no way somebody’s fashion or appearance would make me feel threatened, at “worse” I could not understand it or enjoy it, but I would never feel the need to put somebody down, in order to “restore my inner peace”.

I came across two negative/offensive comments under my posts, and I just deleted them. Shortly after, I realized that the more people I’m trying to reach the more hateful comments I will come across, which is normal, but, is it?

I think it’s a good thing. It’s a good thing to get a strong reaction, even to enrage, because it means you’re doing something, you’re straying, you’re establishing something, but on the other side, I wonder If I know what I’m singing up for: 12 year old me couldn’t really keep up with his hometown bullies, will 27 years old me keep up with…the world?

If hate cannot be taken out of the equation, and your desire is to unify, what to do when you end up dividing?

Maybe division is good. Not desired or desirable but good. Maybe it will be good to leave those people’s opinions behind, and with those also leave behind the rags remaining of the first gown I wore when I first showed to the world who I really was, that gown that was so ferociously torn apart.

Maybe I need that division. Maybe it’s time to stop hoping that one day the world will learn to love again, appreciate who does, and ignore who doesn’t.

Maybe it’s time to stop questioning myself. We know for a fact that we’re bound to make mistakes, might as well make them with more enthusiasm. Maybe it’s time to stop treating me like I’ve been treated.

Today I’m not afraid if they tear my gown apart. Unlike 12 years old me…now I’ve got plenty of reveals.