Recursive Dream

Embracing My Cringe

I was last hopelessly captivated by an Internet stranger a little over 20 years ago on a long defunct Web forum. She was witty, introspective, wrote florid prose, and had impeccable taste in music. We formed a friendship and spent hours on the phone talking about God knows what, back when 'long distance charges' were still a thing (sorry, Mom and Dad.) The relationship culminated with me flying across the country and staying at her place for a few days. Far more insecure and shy in person, I left feeling guilty and ashamed for not using the opportunity to express my feelings and deepen our connection. We gradually lost touch after. A couple years later, I emailed that I still had feelings for her; she never replied.

Fast forward to this week, when I watched a Youtube video by a woman who inexplicably hijacked my entire consciousness to the point that I felt compelled to reach out. She spoke about a beautiful process of transformation she'd experienced which transmuted her shame into acceptance, joy, and wonder. It was a humorous, intimate, articulate, joyful expression of profound change — and deeply relatable. Normally I wouldn't even comment but, through some confluence of ineffable factors, I found myself longing to talk with her about anything and everything.

After unsuccessfully meditating my way back to normality, I bought an e-book of her poetry which came with an email address she might check. I crafted a thoughtful and only moderately cringe message expressing both my gratitude for her video and desire for conversation. I made it clear that I expect that won't happen, but felt I'd betray myself by not trying. The outcome seemed to satisfy whatever demon possessed me.

Naturally, I follow her on Instagram. Whenever her story pops up in my feed, I immediately feel a wave of shame and embarrassment spread across my body. These days, I'm incredibly grateful for these physiological prompts to accept and integrate trauma, such as whatever led me to believe it's shameful to seek human connection (I dig into this trauma in a future post). I email Internet strangers pretty regularly, but always along the lines of, "Thanks for that thing you shared, here are some of my thoughts regarding it, goodbye forever." I am pleasantly surprised on the off chance someone responds, but that's the extent of it, and I never question whether I did something wrong.

I tend to alienate people more quickly since reconnecting to my emotions and coming into this state where I no longer fear rejection or judgment. I believe and behave as if any relationship worth having includes intellectual, emotional, and spiritual intimacy — a risky proposition in a society plagued by ego identification and unresolved trauma. (I can also come on pretty strong, but haven't decided whether that's worth modulating.)

Spirituality is often associated with a seemingly unfeeling Monk character, but my experience has been quite the opposite. I wear my heart on my sleeve because there's nowhere else for it to go; the castle I built around it has been torn down. This doesn't mean I choose to react to everything or everyone who touches it, which is what makes this incident so remarkable. Distracting and perplexing though it may be, it's quite fun to swoon from time to time!