Dangerous Compassions

what I struggle with

My good friend up in Canada told me she enjoys witnessing how I love myself unconditionally.  She likes how I accept myself where I’m at, in so many ways.  “I’m sure there must be some things you struggle with.  But I love how you accept yourself,” she said.  The topic of what I struggle with felt intriguing.  Yes, what do I accept about myself, vs what I struggle with?  I thought it might be good to write about.

what I struggle with


Some people think my blog is very positive and uplifting, which seems sort of real.  I used to write it for my mom, and I did try to keep it upbeat.

The panic attack post a few days ago, that was about a terror experience.  I think I explained it well.  But the bottom line is that I’m ok, and I can do radical mental health and enjoy the support of Ming, to be ok in a life that includes panic.  Yes, I talk about grief and death and loss, but I tend to frame things that we can make good choices even about painful things, and we can be ok.  Love will prevail, and we’re on earth to feel, even the difficult parts.

I try to be kind to myself, be there for myself, respect my needs, and unlearn the unhealthy behaviors I was taught in my family and by my culture.  Yes, I love myself unconditionally.  But there are some big things I struggle with.

shedding shame

Shedding shame is something I struggle with.  I’ve come out as queer, crazy, a hearer of voices.  Trauma survivor, autistic, disabled.  Pagan, a witch, fat, anarchist, someone who lives in community.

But there are a few things I haven’t come out as!  You may or may not already know them.  Many things, I’m willing to speak up about and be an activist about.  But some things I can’t share yet.  I’m still working through shame, and I can’t take additional shame that others would heap on me.

My good friend said I talk about everything on my blog, but she is incorrect.  There are so many things I won’t share.  I share only a small amount, really.

The few things I’m still ashamed about, I hope to come out as, one day.  But a few cards I do keep close to my chest.  I feel safer that way.

Asking the world to accept me as fat is too much right there.  Most people are not up for accepting fat people as valid people.  They want me to love myself only if I’m actively starving myself and exercise more than they do.  They think they worked hard not to be fat, and I should be ashamed of myself for eating big macs and twinkies all day.  You know I don’t eat like that, and I’m not taking that from anyone.


Something else I have a hard time with is marketing.  Part of me would like to just make art, write, rap, sing, and leave it be–part of me wants to do it for fun and personal healing, then let it rot.

But then part of me needs to reach out and share.  I want to help the world with my truth.  Sharing it is part of the point of making it.  So I have to do marketing, which means sharing posts that are really important to me with friends who I think would like them, promoting my blog on facebook with excerpts, and other promotion I might decide to do for a while, like putting teasers on twitter or sharing something on a facebook group related to that topic.

It’s hard to find a balance between marketing a lot and saying “fuck it” and not marketing ever.  It can make me feel dirty, to market myself and my art at all.  Something in me wants to be purely detached.  But there’s no way I would die and Ming would suddenly release all my work, and it would be well-received.  My demographic is totally irrelevant to most people.  Middle-aged fat crazy women are not super valued in this society, right?

I don’t want to fight tooth and nail to be on tv or otherwise loved mainstream.  Happily I accept that most people don’t care what I say, and I will never be respected by most people.  But that’s ok–I can be respected and even adored by some people who are hungry for this truth.

I have fans, and some people have told me they read my blog posts every day. They’re hungry for my words.  Whatever works.


It’s hard for me to be rude to strangers.  Almost physically painful.  But sometimes a stranger is bothering me, and my resting bitch face doesn’t work to scare them away.

Sometimes I love someone who’s hurting me beyond ok.  I try many ways to adjust to the situation, but there’s no solution.  Walking away can be very, very difficult.  A lot of people have that problem.  “But I love him!” is a cliche for a reason.  But I can seethe with self-loathing, when I find myself embodying that cliche.

Phone calls to businesses or people I don’t know–phone calls even to people I do know.  Many social things, I’m so lost.  It takes huge effort and days of recovery.  There’s not much in it for me.  Why should I go to the party, just to feel super awkward and cry afterward?  I want to show up, but the world’s not made for me.


I talk about communication and showing up for difficult conversations, but being social is stressful for me to begin with.  Add conflict to that, and why should I even leave the house?

My capacity for even good social times is very low.  So my capacity for stressful social times is non-existent.  I feel guilty for wanting a lot of intimacy in some ways, but needing a ton of space in other ways.  But why is my way of being wrong?  To hide out is something I’m doing because I have to.  It’s not like I’m trying to be difficult.  I’m not selfish–I’m different.

Being so strange, most people don’t understand that.  It can be a struggle to do a thing that everyone in the world except Ming will misunderstand.  Finding the strength to hurt or confuse everyone can be hard to do.  It takes a lot of work.


What do you think of what I struggle with?  There are more things, of course.  But those are some important ones.  Thank you for caring about the hard parts of my life.

Love to your choices, needs, and the places where no one understands you.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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