It's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to 🎉
Happy tears, sad tears, all the tears.
I’m a crier. I have been a crier forever. I cry to Neutral Milk Hotel every time I spin In the Aeroplane Over the Sea. I cry during every episode of Steven Universe. I cry at the very mention of climate change and inequality. I cry nearly twice a week just watching my dogs sleep, because I don’t know how to stop thinking about their inevitable demise. I also cry when the weather is exceptionally crisp or bright.
I’m 29 today, and I’ve already cried twice. First, in the bookstore, I started tearing up because it was the first time I’d stepped foot in a bookshop or library since January and I didn't realize how much I deeply missed the feeling of being surrounded by unread pages on dusty wooden shelves. And second, after my glass of birthday red, with a curve on my lips, I felt overwhelmingly grateful to have made it to a year that once felt so out of reach.
Last month, I was invited to speak at City Bureau’s Public Newsroom workshop on strategies and resources for managing mental health during difficult work projects and I truly had a lovely time talking with Tiara DeGuzman and the City Bureau team about being a lifelong #sadgirl—and how to find beauty in radical vulnerability. I always feel funny when I get asked to speak at these events, because I’m not entirely sure I’m the person anyone should be looking to for advice. I’m struggling every day, like many are.
I suppose embracing that intensely delicate part of myself has transformed childhood feelings of weakness and victimization to a kind of superpower. There’s a strength that I’ve found in breaking down again and again. The breakdown itself feels like healing if I’m given the necessary time to understand the why, even if there’s no real solution in sight. I’m reminded of a recent reading featuring Fariha RóisÃn and Tanaïs. Fariha wept throughout her reading of her new novel Like a Bird, and I wept alongside her. Just watching her vulnerability unfold for a new audience moved me to wrap my arms around my own body. I felt a kind of home in the exposure. I hope for more of that intimacy in the years ahead.
—fiza
A big hug to supporters Cary Adamms, Sam Kruger, Arielle Lewitt and Salima Makhani.
Favorite recent reads:
Best Debut Short Stories 2020 (Catapult)
Happy birthday, beautiful