The Little Things.
You are not alone in the strange, complex human experience of a flawed, imperfect life, and that makes you perfect as is.
This past week I have deeply struggled with my PTSD. In general, it was a stressful week, from work troubles to finding out my PTSD therapy will begin in March, I literally wanted to bury myself in my duvet and simply never come out. What was funny, and weird, this time was that I so quickly identified how large a part I played in being the problem. I was allowing myself to be utterly miserable, and it didn’t matter that I knew because I was stubborn and didn’t want to be happy in those moments. In a moment where usually control is what I desire, I had it and gave it away. Misery, please take the wheel. I became complacent last week to the point of cancelling all my plans and forgetting to take very important medication. Idiot, I thought, but I didn't mean it at all. Whilst the week I had was not my worst, and it still felt shit, I was far from horrible to myself. I let myself be utterly fucking flawed, and loved it. So I thought I’d share a rough draft of a memoir from a new novel I’m writing, that encapsulates exactly that:
‘I am perpetually exhausted. My cycle is so fucked up that I end up feeling horny when I’m most by myself. I get uncharacteristically miserable when it sounds like someone’s telling me off because in my head I’m still fucking nineteen and thirteen. The way I love seems to be more burdensome than romantic. I’m a creature of comfort and disgustingly fragile. I believe in the love you see in the movies and in music even though I know they don’t exist. Sometimes, I prefer being dirty to being clean because it reminds me just how much of a person I am; not human, but a person. I am so flawed and yet so vain that I believe I am the most flawed, and that that’s not okay. I’ll probably spend 75% of my lifetime sleeping, entirely out of choice. I will miss someone but not speak to them for years because I’m petty. I scrape the plaque off my teeth when I’m too tired to brush them. My nipples are so different to what they used to be; it freaks me out and detaches me from who I know myself to be, knowing that my body won’t stay seventeen. I judge people for shit that I do, whilst judging myself for things that everyone does. I identify so deeply with the music and movies and books that I love that I don’t know who I am without them but then I don’t know if we were ever made to be without them; sounds always been sound and visuals have always been visuals. I’m a self proclaimed animal lover but I’ll be damned if a rat comes near me and survives said encounter. I’m a walking, talking, masturbating contradiction; I want to be healthy but live only on soup and pasta, I pass out at blood tests but am happily covered in tattoos and piercings, I want to get out and see the world but the bathroom is as far as I want to walk. If I had a superpower, it would be transportation because I’m lazy and my head constantly feels like I’ve got a hangover. I care about my own birthday more than anyone else’s because I care about me the most yet I am terrified at how little I know myself and am haunted by the idea that I may never fully know myself because growth cannot be forced and that kills me. I’m the only one in my family to ever go to therapy and yet I’m STILL the most fucked up out of us all, and before you say it’s because I face everything unlike them, what if facing things isn’t actually the fucking way to go if it only makes things worse and I’ll never fully understand myself? I’m scared of ageing but not because I’ll be old and grey and wrinkly and saggy but because it means I’m closer to no longer existing, and what have I left here on this earth good enough to leave it? And because it means almost everyone I love will also be gone; I can barely fucking part with my childhood diaries, let alone my mother. Every good thing I do feels performative and selfish, even when it’s not. I am painstakingly human, and yet, the most gut wrenching thing is that I want to be special to you, and just you. You only, and me only.’
If you’d like to keep up to date with book news and honest influencer crap, I’m your gal.
Sexuality with Erin
We’re now sixth months into Sappho’s Sanctuary, and I couldn’t be more thrilled with how it’s going! Since launching in May, we've welcomed 334 amazing members, and together we've read 6 books. That adds up to an incredible 623,000 pages of sapphic stories!
One of my favourite books so far has been ‘Last Night at the Telegraph Club’ by Malinda Lo. It was actually the first book we read as a club, and I can’t think of a more fitting way to kick off our reading journey together. As someone who loves historical sapphics, this was a perfect read for me, but it resonated with so many in the group as well. The complex themes of sexuality, race and gender in 1950s Chinatown sparked some important discussions.
Even though I finished it in May, ‘Last Night at the Telegraph Club’ is a book that’s always in the back of my mind. I often find myself flipping through my annotated copy, revisiting my favourite moments. One line that has always stood out to me is when Lily reflects on Kath and the lesbian pulp fiction book in the drugstore, “Are you like the girls in the book too? Because I think I am.” It makes me reflect on how difficult it must have been for queer women in history - having these thoughts and feelings but not being able to outwardly express them. How terrifying it must have been to suspect, but not completely know who you are or where you belong. Since purchasing some vintage sapphic books myself, I often wonder if someone like me has held these books, read these same pages, and had the same thoughts that Lily did.
Starting a sapphic book club had been a dream of mine for ages, but I had no clue where to begin. Thankfully, with Mia’s encouragement, I decided to just go for it - and I’m so glad I did! The community we’ve built is so important. Without this book club, I wouldn’t have discovered so many incredible books. Plus, a bonus is that with such a large group, whenever I’m hunting for a very specific recommendation, there’s always at least one member with the perfect suggestion.
Sappho’s Sanctuary is my baby, and I so badly want it to thrive. Balancing my full-time retail job with my disabilities has been challenging, and I sometimes worry that I’m not able to dedicate enough energy to the club. But when I think about how important this space is - for me, and for others - it reminds me of why it’s all worth it. This community gives me so much, and I want to give back as much as I can.
Thankfully, I’ll soon be transitioning out of retail! I’ve been offered a fully remote job, which I hope will give me more energy for reading, creating content for BookTok and Bookstagram, and - most importantly - pouring even more love into our book club.
If you’re a member of Sappho’s Sanctuary, I just want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for being part of something so meaningful to me. It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that 333 other people are part of this community with us.
If you’re reading this and haven’t joined yet, I’d love to welcome you to Sappho’s Sanctuary! We’re always looking for more passionate readers to join us!
Movies with Jente
September has thrown me into a slump: mentally, physically, all-encompassing mist has engulfed me. At times like these, I like to take it easy, slow it down and my medicine for that are movies and music.
I revisit the media I love religiously, I’ve been rewatching the cartoon Gravity Falls cause I’ve loved it ever since I was a kid. The album Everything Harmony by The Lemon Twigs has been on repeat just like it was on a loop during my lowest moment of 2023 and when it comes to movies, my roots began with Wes Anderson.
His 2012 film Moonrise Kingdom was one of the first introductions I had into his filmography and every time our paths cross again, I find myself packing up my metaphorical bags and moving into the island where the film takes place.
The two protagonists have a similar idea: Suzy and Sam are twelve year olds, living on an island removed from the world as we know it and are pen pals. Suzy has a boring home life, being overshadowed by her younger siblings and Sam is an orphan who finds himself on the island during a scouting trip.
The teens concoct a plan to run away from their homes and elope into the wilderness. While as a viewer, my wilderness is the island, they take it one step further and find themselves traversing the woods during a thunderstorm.
The people around them - Suzy’s family, Sam’s scouting troop and the local police captain - set out on a mission to find them but as the storm brews it gets harder and harder to bring these kids back “home”. I put this word between parentheses because much like Suzy and Sam I find myself questioning what a home truly is.
For me, it’s not the place I grew up, the houses I’ve lived in or the city I inhabit. I am my home, I make it in my own head, in my heart, I house myself in these layers of skin, nerves, muscles, hair and blood vessels. And I make it cosy and livable by surrounding myself with things and people that make it feel familiar and comfortable.
Every time I find myself wanting to run away into a thunderstorm, I tend to go inwards and instead of grabbing someone’s hand and running away with them into the unknown, like Suzy and Sam, I gravitate towards what’s known. And these are the things I’ve mentioned in the intro: music and movies.
In that regard, Wes Anderson makes perfect movies for someone like me. They evoke something nostalgic and comforting whenever I put on one, whether it’s because I’m greeted by a narrator portrayed by Bob Balaban, the familiar sounds of Alexandre Desplat or the colourful title cards… I know I am truly home. I’ve created my own island getaway through these pieces of media and there’s never a thunderstorm hanging above me when I visit.
Tarot Reading with Hannah
September 30th – October 13th
Find hope, and let it win.
What does it mean to be present? To accept where you are? For many, the idea of acceptance comes across as a passive action. Something that happens after an extended period, rather than something we can actively choose to practice.
When people talk of the five stages of grief, they often reference ‘arriving at acceptance’ - the idea of acceptance as a place we come to, after a long, unforgiving, and often brutal journey. The arrival of acceptance presumes that after all our energy has been spent, we finally reach peace.
But this is not always the case. The Hanged Man suggests that acceptance can be just as unforgiving, and brutal as the journey that has led us to it. Acceptance asks us not to find peace, but to see, believe, and take in where exactly we are now wholly and truly. It asks us to take of the rose-coloured glasses and live in the moment where we have found ourselves. The Hanged Man is often interpreted as stillness and solitude. And whilst this can be the case of our physical bodies, let us not neglect the imagery of the Hanged Man having activity, energy, and light protruding from his mind. The lack of comfort of him hanging upside down is an invitation for us to flip our current perspective on its head, in favour for, in this case with the Queen of Cups, what our emotions are honestly trying to communicate with us.
The Solar Eclipse on October 2nd is here to bring powerful change and transformation in our relationships, and how we connect to and create peace, balance, and harmony in our lives. The Hanged Man is here to say that before you can begin to create this harmony, there are changes that need to happen internally, perspective shifts that need to be made, and illusions that need to be let go of, for us to honestly see, and feel, that which is creating a sense of unrest or imbalance. This Eclipse also provides the opportunity for us to recognise what we need in relationships, and with the Queen of Cups, we are being asked to honour and stand firm in our boundaries.
As we have moved into Libra season, themes of balance, harmony, and relationships are present, but also fairness, or unfairness, and social injustice being seen more vividly. The current global landscape is horrifying. We have genocide, famine, transphobia, femicide, the cost-of-living crisis, and the rise of the alt-right all bubbling up, creating anger, fear, frustration, and a feeling of hopelessness. This is not the time to give in to the hopelessness, but act, whether big or small, in fighting against injustice, and standing up for those who need our voices the most. Whilst you may feel it more during this season, Libra provides intellect, being an air sign, and understands the importance of social connection. Use this. Stand with your community and know that together we are strong. The ending of a poem by Palestinian poet and martyr Refaat Alareer comes to mind here; “If I must die, let it bring hope, let it be a tale.” Find that hope, and let it move within you. Find that hope, and fight for it. Find that hope, and let it win.
