Invisibility

Some people in this world will never fit in. It’s not necessarily bad to be unable to hide in between the masses of people who look alike, but it makes things more difficult. It makes you noticed even when you don’t want to. It makes it impossible to hide.

I don’t know if that’s true. I just imagine it must feel like that. I’m always scared of being noticed when I don’t want to, but then I remember that I don’t really stand out when I walk down the street. I find it easy to hide in public here. All you have to do is wear a dark jacket and black jeans, and then avoid eye contact whenever you pass someone you don’t know.

It’s not really a problem for me. I always avoid eye contact and I’m an expert in seeming too busy to talk. At least I like to think I am.

Okay, I admit it. When I have those days where I don’t want to talk to people, I really don’t even want to say hallo to anyone on my way. Then when people do say hallo to me I always start swearing internally.

I am grateful that I look like anyone else. But I’m also grateful that I have the ability not to when I want to stand out. It’s a bit harder now, because I’m not the only one of my female friends with short hair anymore, but then I dyed it black. Now I can stand a bit out if I decide to style my hair and that’s awesome.

So why would I want to seem invisible? Because I’m afraid of attention. Not of people, but just the attention. It puts this pressure on me I can’t really handle.

And it’s weird. In school I loved doing presentations. I loved playing concerts and I loved standing in the spotlight on a stage (I’d still love it, but it’s not something I do often.. Actually I kinda never do it). But that’s something different.

I love the thought of people being able to read this, but I would never show it to anyone I know.

Sometimes I write poetry or draw and I want people to see it. But I don’t want people to know that it’s me.

I guess this all comes down to this feeling I always have. I am never me. Not truly. I’m not sure why and I’m not sure how I get to be me.

Back in school I learned that being real to people was a certain way to avoid drama. I still avoid drama, but I don’t think I’m real with people anymore. I don’t feel like I am.

I feel like I’m acting all the time and while that is awesome on stage, it feels terrible when I’m supposed to be… well.. me.

So that’s why I love my ability to stay invisible. It removes the pressure of having to be real. Although it also makes me feel like a stranger to myself.

The sexuality game

There are many things that confuse me. And I don’t even think I know 1% of all the things I don’t understand. But most of these things are not something I’m reminded that I’m totally lost about every day.

Literally. Every day.

There’s a lot of reasons why I’m reminded of the big issue (is it even an issue?) of sexuality all the time. First of all I follow a lot of LGBTQ+ activists on basically every platform that I’m on. Besides that it’s a frequent topic in our mainstream media. Oh, and then there’s these sexualized commercials all the time as well. And sex is in general a pretty frequent topic, like, everywhere.

I really don’t have anything intelligent to say about sexuality, but I want to say something anyway and I’ll even share two short stories about my experiences with sexuality.
No, not those kind of stories.

The first time I ever had my sexuality questioned by someone (well, the first time I know of anyway…) it was actually a friend of mine. Not very close, but friend nonetheless. I’d shaven my hair off because I grew tired of it and she asked me the following:

“Not to be judgemental and not that it matters or anything, but.. just curious… Your.. sexuality? Straight? Lesbian?”
I wasn’t really offended, just a bit confused. I said something a long the lines of “No problem, I’m straight though.” (best comeback ever. I know)

Well, actually I didn’t really know because back then all I thought was “Since I’m a girl and I’m not into girls, I must be straight”.

I was always (and I mean it, always) tired of the topic of what feels like every conversation between friends always being about sex. Maybe not literally about sex, but close enough for me to feel a bit lost. Not uncomfortable, just a bit lost. Well, shit, I still am, but I don’t feel as weirded out anymore as I did before.

I think most people who have known me for a while would have this feeling of “oh, that explains it all” if they read this. I’m actually having that feeling even though I’m, you know, me.

Okay, maybe you guessed it. I’m not really into sex. A few times I’ve stated to people that yes, I identify as asexual. I’m not sure I do, actually, but I’ve felt relieved the few times I’ve said it out loud. Actually that leads to the story of the first time I said it out loud to someone.

It was this summer (2015) and I was drunk along with the rest of my friends. This means that I don’t exactly remember all the circumstances, but I remember the conversation. Well..

Don’t ask me why but for some reason a conversation about whether male- or female parts were the most gross (come on, genitalia is gross). Then people had to pick which they preferred and most actually picked the opposite sex (do I have to say that we were a bunch of heterosexuals?). I was more like “Neither, please.” Then a friend asked me: “Then what about sex?”

It was the greatest thing really. Never have I been so glad to be asked such a silly question. Okay, maybe the fact that I was drunk made it all seem more amazing, but I immediately responded “Dude, I’m a asexual.” He then took my hand and apologized, saying that he had no idea. 

That was weird, I guess. But it felt really fucking good actually saying it. (Okay shit, if you’re reading along you probably know who you are. Sorry. – This is why I shouldn’t have a public blog).

It wasn’t until I’d said it out loud I actually began identifying as such. Again, I’m still not sure I do. I like to say that I’m straight, but not sexually active because it’s easier. I still do this thing actually, where I state that I’m not into girls if the topic of sexuality is brought up. And it’s true. I’m not into girls.
I’m just quite certain that I’m not into guys either. I don’t know.

I’ve heard people say something along the lines of “just wait till you find the right one.” I don’t like that phrase. I mean. What if I don’t want to?

What if I’m actually most comfortable not having to think about sex ever?

What if I’m not interested in finding the right one?

Oh shit. Are you supposed to come out as a person who doesn’t like sex?

And what if I some day end up actually wanting to have sex with someone? Am I straight again then?

Luckily I still have all the time in the world to figure it out.
I like that.

So who is Lind?

I’ve thought about starting a blog for a while. I’ve even tried on Tumblr before, but I always end up getting insecure. Now this is different.

Not really. I know that. But I feel like it is and I think I’m finally at a place where I can do this, because I’ve finally reached the point where I don’t really care if anyone would find this important or not. That is a big thing for me.

So why make a blog? You do that because you have something you want to tell people, right? Sure. I do. I have all these kinds of white girl problems and those are exactly what I’m going to write about. This is my first post on this blog and this will just be a bit about me and what my story is. It’ll just be a long rambling of my schools, I guess.

That’s who I am. A white girl living in a small country. It’s almost illegal to say, but I love this country. I hate its politicians. I hate its weather. I hate how certain demographics of this small place are small-minded. But the country is great. I tend to hope that we are great as a people too, but I know I would be pushing it if I tried to claim that.

I’ve went to 4 different schools and when I look back at it they were all great. In the first one I learnt that people are different and that you can stay out of drama if you’re being real with the people you hang out with. Seriously. I remember so much drama, but I don’t really remember how it all started. I was never really part of it, but for some reasons my friends were always fighting. I think we all ended school as friends though, when we had to depart to different schools at, like, age 12.

Then I moved from tiny-town school to a slightly-less-tiny-town school. I think I was kind of an outsider there, but I never really felt that way. Again, I managed to avoid most of the drama even though I, again, watched my friends fight all the time. I guess that’s what we do as teenagers: fight. I hated PE, German and Maths, loved Religions Studies (It was just called Christianity, but we learned about different religions as well) and Danish (it was the same teacher for those subjects.. Maybe it had something to do with her). All my classmates did sports, I stopped playing football.

Then, at age 16, we were done. It was the best. I remember I really hated everything about that school back then. I hated the teachers, the students, the town, the parking lot (I really did hate that parking lot for some reason).

In the summer of 2011. Little girl Lind, age 16, started her year in Boarding School. In Denmark it’s quite common to take a year in boarding school. I learned so much that year. First of all I finally experienced what my social limit is. It was a terrible experience, but I’m glad I had it. I meant that I now know when to draw back and shield myself from the world. I also learned that playing music (an interest and hobby I’ve had since I was a toddler, really) is not necessarily just about “what sounds good”. It’s just as much about personal development as everything else. At least that’s how I look at it now. Thanks for that.

Then came High School. In Denmark that’s usually 3 years of school where you usually choose 1-2 main subjects. Mine were English and Music and I’d like to say it was the best. I still don’t know if it was, but I enjoyed it. I think my class was always struggling a bit. I’m not sure why, but for some reason we had a tendency of dragging each other down. It wasn’t because we were all lazy or depressed or anything, but often there was a bit of a “slow”(in lack of a better word) vibe. I liked my class though and I think I’ll remember them way longer than I’ll remember any other class I’ve belonged in.

Well. Now it gets a bit more serious. When I say High School was the school that broke me down, it’s not because I’m actually that broken. But it is a fact that I was way more confident and strong when I started than when I finished.

The first year was okay. It was fun and it would also have been quite easy if only I’d studied more. The second year was when I began struggling. I guess I struggled right from the start (a lot of the people in my class did), but it wasn’t until further into the year I finally cracked.

“You seem strong and energetic.” My biology teacher (who was also out contact-teacher) told me that in a conversation how things went. I remember so clearly how a few seconds passed and then I started crying. I don’t know if it was the first time since I started high school, but before that I definitely didn’t cry a lot. The year went on though and even though things didn’t get perfect again, they got better.

Third year was the hardest. I started out the year with a mild pneumonia and then just as I started getting better I got another one. When I look back at the third year of high school I really only remember me being more or less ill (when I think about it, it was probably my stress-levels destroying my immune system). I got tired of school, tired of my hobbies, tired of my friends. I started talking to our school’s psychiatrist, but it was shit (not because she was bad.. I can’t say if she was or not).

And there’s no need to go into further details. I was definitely not the one struggling the most. And I made it. I ended the school year and partied my brains out with the rest of the graduates in the summer of fucking ’15.

Well. It would be cool to be able to tell the story of how I found meaning in life then, but I haven’t really gotten any further than that. I’m still looking for a job, trying to make enough money to travel somewhere far away and stay there for a while.

I’ve kinda learned to play the clarinet though. I suck at it, but at least I know what I’m doing while I murder simple classical songs.

So that was a shitload of my background. Only the boring part that probably doesn’t really say a lot about me, but hey. Maybe someone I know reads it and recognize that it’s me. Or at least recognize that they know me. Who knows, right?