I love how performers flirt with their audience. Like literally, ‘you can look, don’t touch’ (Best Friend – Saweetie ft. Doja Cat lyrics—their performances are too strippery for my taste, but that’s a great line.)
I’ve always wanted to be a performer.
I’ve also always wanted people to pay attention to me.
The problem is, when I’ve devoted all my energy to trying to get one person—i.e. a guy I was dating—to appreciate all my unique parts and who I am, it left me feeling empty. I projected emotional intimacy into it that wasn’t really there. And it left me an emotional wreck.
I think my desire for attention, such as cracking jokes in class my whole life, doing silly dances with my friends, etc, was more than just being obsessed with getting attention. It was about uniting people with my art. About the energy created by me and how it unified the audience. How it made something special in the room come alive.
Also I think I just like attention.
I’ve been ashamed about it for a while.
But they say nothing is inherently bad, and it’s about how we channel it.
When I put all my creativity and wit into one person when I was dating in my twenties, it didn’t serve me. It hurt me. Etc etc etc.
When I flow out of my soul onto the world, to share myself in the rawest of ways, I help others while maintaining my own healthy distance.
And I think that is what I meant to do.
Mindful Nuggets 