If You’re New Here, This Won’t Make Much Sense
There was a time when I wrote this blog as if no one was watching, or rather only a few people were watching—a close-knit group who knew me, even if they didn’t really know me at all, at least not in the flesh. I was so open, so careless, so much like me. It feels like that was ages ago. It was a different place, a different time, nearly a different person who could so easily pour herself onto the wide-open space of the internet. I’d been doing it for years, in smaller spaces, with the same small group I imagined might follow me when I moved into a larger space that I could fully control. It was a matter of necessity that I move here, leave the smaller space behind, as it both hurt and confined me to stay in that tight circle.
One day, I realized other people were watching, and things slowly began to change. I told myself that I was becoming more directed in my actions as an activist, that I was serving a greater purpose when I filled this space. The older version of me remained, but only in pieces. It became more of an aside, though it occasionally took over. When it did, I was still serving a purpose in my mind, adding a human element to my sex workers’ rights mission.
I talk as if it was all planned. Really, it just happened, and I only see it with clarity now. Things often appear planned when we’re looking back. It’s our way of convincing ourselves that we didn’t make a mistake when we changed, though we always make mistakes. We always slip somewhere.
There came yet another day, which still feels distant but was just over a year ago, when I realized He was watching. He: aloof, secretive, too important in my mind. But I knew He was lurking here.
Everything jumbled together then. My purpose and direction faltered. I longed for the openness, the carelessness, that once took over when I approached these pages. At that time, I used this as a space to be open in ways I couldn’t be in the flesh. I guess you could say I got lost in me. The utility of this space was a mirror of my life, as it often is. I can’t say I got lost in He, because so much of He existed within me in the first place. That was always be the problem with He.
Suddenly, just as things got jumbled when He was watching, things crumbled when He stopped. I hid myself away. I ultimately left this space, making only minor appearances, too infrequent, and often too manufactured, to be of any use to anyone, myself included.
Today, as I drove home from the Summit on Sex Work, I made a promise to myself: I would change again. I would reinvest myself here. I say reinvest, and not reinvent, because I don’t want to reinvent. I want to dedicate myself to both the human element and the mission. They coexist. They’re real. They’re not new. I just need to be me, and be consistent about it.
I intended to write about the aforementioned Summit this evening, but these words felt more important tonight. You can expect to hear about the Summit tomorrow. I will also be changing the sidebar tomorrow. Maybe some people who used to watch but no longer visit will find themselves returning. Maybe new people will stop by to enjoy the show. He? Well, who really cares?