have you ever tried to unsubscribe from an email list? “tried” being the operative word.
it goes like this: you’re seeing the number on the inbox icon going up and up–not yet in the tens of thousands like some elders you may know, but higher than you’re comfortable continuing to rationalize. so you manage to finally wrangle yourself into sitting down and staring at your phone or laptop in a way that is not dopamine-generating, and you begin the onerous task of cleaning out your inbox:
jesus, how did I get on this mailing list? there are like 100 emails here from (fill in name of obscure company selling second- and third-rate bullshit I do not want).
UNSUBSCRIBE <click>
yes, I really mean it. no, do not send me occasional emails.
UNSUBSCRIBE FROM ALL <click>
now select and delete all 100 inbox-cluttering emails from ________________.
that’s one bunch down, too-many-to-count to go!
you feel good about the progress you made–you were society’s beloved paragon of industry for 20, 30, 40 minutes there. way to go!
and then the next time a bout of inbox-shaving productivity strikes you, you find there are new emails from that stupid company you fully unsubscribed from. almost like the unsubscribe did not “take.”
well that can’t be. I told them to stop. they have to stop.
except they don’t.
honestly you’re lucky if any of your unsubscribe clicks took. do try to forgive my cynical pronouncements, dear reader–I’ve been intermittently trying to cut down since the 90’s, but it never really took.
< l i g h t b u l b >
ohhhhhhhhhhhhh.
…so my thought patterns….and attitudes….are like email subscriptions I never signed up for….and they feel impossible to unsubscribe from…
dude. whoa.
it’s true, this is the point I was hoping to get to. I’ve been thinking about “new year’s resolutions,” as one conditioned in this culture often does whenever a given year turns into the next. in thinking about former versions of myself, particularly much younger versions, I can’t help but reflect on how cut-throat I was with myself:
- exercise daily
- control food intake: starve yourself, basically. cut out anything you think contains fat
- engage in unnecessarily complex beauty routines including washing, scrubbing, shaving, moisturizing, mud masks, make-up, etc. (in spite of being young and naturally beautiful, but you don’t realize that yet)
I’m pretty sure that was it. just all about my appearance. be fit and gorgeous and slim (with boobs).*
*(actually, there was probably something about being less “negative” on the list, since so many people seemed to have a problem with my genuinely shitty attitude. it’s a real shame “toxic positivity” was not yet part of the cultural lexicon, but whatever.)
easy peasy. just keep yourself in a vise and watch the “cash and prizes” roll in: true love, fame, wealth–why tf not?
needless to say, the cultural focus on beauty and thinness was rampant in the 1990’s when I was growing up. <insert compulsory comment about Kate Moss and “heroin chic” here> (wink)
yes, it’s sadly true that cultural emphasis on beauty and thinness preceded and succeeds my era, but I can really only speak to my personal experience. that said, I don’t feel like going into any further detail about the lengths to which I went in search of some kind of purpose or direction. it’s not really a unique tale, unfortunately. I can say that I subscribed to all the beauty and thinness bullshit more fervently than most of my other female friends, for various reasons of which I had little conscious knowledge.
I am encouraged by the recent development of what’s known as the “body positivity movement.” my instagram and tik tok feeds no longer feature exclusively thin women, and occasionally, when a friend shares a video that features an unnaturally thin woman, I’m pleased to say it now seems disturbing, and nothing to strive for. this has been a hard-won achievement, spanning decades.
also worth noting: I’ve somehow managed to cognitively unsubscribe from certain long-held mentalities, and seemingly without direct effort. my favorite example was when, turning 40, I was suddenly struck by how full of shit most people seem to be. until that burning bush moment, I literally did not know. I attribute this lack of wisdom on being the youngest member of my family, and possibly autism. I guess I automatically assumed that mostly everyone knew what they were talking about, especially if they were older than me. after all, they’d been around longer, but also, I was more trusting than the average bear.
as it turns out, I had been giving almost everyone way, way too much credit; taking for granted an inherent scrupulousness for which there was little evidence, in several cases. I put others above me.
ultimately, the point I’m trying to get at, perhaps somewhat clumsily, is that I have changed. and also, that I want to change. but not like I wanted to change in the 90’s. I no longer want to be erased, to be replaced by a Victoria’s-Secret-model-version of myself.
now I want to err on the side of my self. I want to be on my own side, even if I’m wrong sometimes. I’m worthy. I’ve never been lacking in scruples.
and so, I now officially unsubscribe from certain attitudes, mentalities, and worldviews. in particular, the ones that say you have to look younger, thinner–less like how you actually look–in order to be attractive, lovable, worthy. basically, any thought pattern inherently uncharitable to me taking up space exactly as I am in this moment is unmitigated bullshit, a lie.
and just like those stupid mailing lists, I will probably have to unsubscribe more than once from certain long-held perceptions and thought patterns; that’s just how it works. for now, I’m happy to let the cynical adolescent with the shitty attitude stay. it may be unpopular, but she calls ’em like she sees ’em, and that is a refreshing level of honesty.
counting snails 