Time capsule

Let me tell you a story.

We've all heart the story. Perhaps who said it is different. For me, it was Malcolm X who spoke about it. When I read Autobiography in high school, Malcolm says he always sits facing the entrance. If someone is coming for him, he wants to spot them - nobody thinks there is nobility in getting shot in the back. Crime lords do the same thing.

It wasn't until I was an adult that I realized regular people, not of world historical importance, also do. Facing the entrance, having a clear line to the exit, not having people in their peripheral vision. If we can control and measure every part of the environment, maybe we can prevent the loss of control that was a traumatizing event.

The last three years has been the first time I've lived alone, in a place I selected, where every aspect of it exists because I wanted it to. The smart LED lights are fiddled with every day, different brightness and color, sometimes playing routines and changing with music. I rearrange the furniture constantly, my Christmas present to myself this year was a different sleeping arrangement and a moved desk. Rugs, wall decoration, all of the photo booth strips on my fridge. I didn't have a metal fridge growing up, it was trendy wood paneling in the early 90s, so I am filled with so much joy to be able to stick things onto it. It also hurts, each person I pose with have a different relationship with me. But it's my choice to have them bore holes in my chest or be cast aside to the drawer.

This year, I had a case where I was not in control of anything. I didn't have my space, my lights, my fridge magnets. I didn't have my car, and I didn't feel respected. I didn't feel my story, my circumstances, and feelings were taken into account. The last two months have been difficult, alien even.

I got an email a couple of days ago. I was told there was confusion- why was I distant, why did I decide not to do Christmas as had been done before. It was hard not to do Christmas as it had been done before. But now, it's going to be my space, my lights, my fridge magnets.

My agenda, my terms.

Artemis