Human symmetry is asymmetrical.
Her father introduced her as his beautiful daughter, and criticized her mother for not trying more so. Perfection begins here. She is praised and envied for her tan while also standing scared in line for what would come next when the man behind her growls, "Go back to your ------- country." Sunscreen is applied often here. Doctor papers require she define her skin but she is neither all white nor all brown. The "white only not hispanic box" is checked here just in case the doctor also growls. Her own daughter, blonde, is called Güera in a tone that suggests she doesn't belong either. Her hopes for her children not to have to experience shame for their beauty are squandered here. Uneven, gray strays stand out against the dark backdrop and cross the border of the light pale straight strip of scalp parting her hair. She decides not to dye here.
Write
For 3 minutes, identify dichotomies or asymmetries that exist for you and give them real estate today in your reflection writing. Name them. Describe them. You don’t have to understand them although you could dissect them should you want to. It’s okay to simply acknowledge their existence for now.
Then, go back through what you wrote and see what stands out. Are there any themes that emerge? Pick an idea to explore more for 10 minutes choosing whatever writing form you’d like - poetry, prose, journaling, bullet listing, word mapping, etc - your choice.
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Note
Since I wrote the poem of dichotomies, I’ll pick an idea to explore in another form here: Not to have to experience shame of their beauty.
I write pretty autobiographically. That said, I do take from observations and experiences shared with me too, but this one is pretty much all from me.
The “shame of beauty” written about in the poem is about shame and also about assimilating. I’m proud of who I am while also very aware of the world I live in and the prejudices and biases people have. My dad could have been described as vain but it was also a sort of protective measure he took. He was a petite, Mexican man. He dressed well everywhere he went - didn’t own a pair of jeans - because he said he didn’t want to “give people a reason.”
It’s this phrase “not giving people a reason” that was part of his training of my becoming a woman of color.
It was important to dress the part and play the game if we were going to get ahead. He modeled perfectionism with a focus on the outer shell. He wanted us well versed in the art of performance. He modeled self-discipline in honing one’s craft. But the perfectionism, the performance, and the torturous discipline came at the expense of many of his relationships. My mother and he played in a band together. She hated being on stage with him. She described how he’d shoot her a look when she made a mistake. He rarely just said something was great. When I’d share with him a story or a song I’d written, he’d jump right to what could be better about it.
The other side of this sword is that I’m very disciplined. I know how to practice like a musician until it’s just right but I also work really hard at letting imperfection be okay too. This was probably the dichotomy of my parents. My mother embraced imperfections well. She was disciplined too, but also allowed life to have character. I strive to be a balance, if that exists because sometimes I feel like I’m either all in or completely falling apart. That’s why this newsletter is so important to me.
It is in part a practice in balancing perfectionism habits with an imperfectionist mindset. I have one week to create something to publish that I’m proud of for you. I can’t tell you how often I write this, publish, and want to take it all back and revise one more time but I can’t. *Deep Breath*
You, readers of this newsletter, help hold me accountable and give me a reason to embrace being perfectly imperfect - thank you.
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