Hello you,
I have something to tell you. A coming out of sorts: I love Dungeons & Dragons.
The imaginary worlds, the dice, the dorkery - I’m here for all of it. And yes, on paper my love of fantasy role playing games has nothing to do with embodiment, but stick with me here. I’m going somewhere I promise.
This isn’t my first time coming out, of course. Ever since I first sat at the kitchen table and whispered to my parents that my teenage best friend was actually my girlfriend, I’ve been practicing telling the truth of that part of myself to the world. It just took a little longer to admit other parts.
I’m actually quite bemused by how similar coming out as a dork feels to coming out as queer. There’s the relief of bringing parts of yourself in from the cold; there’s the spaciousness created by dropping the mask at last; there’s the fact that the hardest part is often telling the plain-faced truth to yourself first.
See, I’ve always been a dork. And I’ve always hidden that part away in an attempt to ‘be cool’. It wasn’t until I rediscovered a love of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in lockdown that I noticed just how far into the shadows I’d pushed that part of myself. And for what? For the hollow belonging of coolness? What a joyless swap.
And so I began to follow the path of my dorkery. From Buffy to Zelda to the fandom of one of my favourite musicians to Critical Role to playing D&D. Following the things that lit me up and throwing cool to the wind. It’s been so freeing. Like the exhale after taking off a too tight pair of jeans.
I wonder how much delight and fun and self expression we’ve collectively sacrificed in the name of cool. The altar of false belonging is piled high with the parts of ourselves we’ve disowned in the name of fitting in. I wonder what would happen if we unabashedly loved the things we loved instead. Let our freak flags fly in the wind.
And so, I’ll leave you with an invitation - to bring out the parts you’ve been hiding away.
The embarrassing bits, the uncool bits, the bits you hesitate to mention in certain company for fear of judgement. The bits that are scared, the bits that need help, the bits that are convinced that you’re the only one who feels like this. Bring them into the light.
Let yourself revel in the fullness of what makes you shamelessly you. Come out as your beautiful, weird self.
Where I can love you and me simultaneously
Boundaries are an integral element to owning your full, weird self. If we don’t know how to hold loving boundaries we can spend our one precious life being pulled by the tides of other people’s expectations, obligations, and needs.
Which is why we experimented with cultivating our energetic boundaries in this month’s live practice. If you want to catch the recording, and join us for next month’s live session, become a paid subscriber. There’s an archive of simple accessible practices waiting for you!
Elle, what a delight to find you here; and what a sweet, timely, resonant read. I’ve been sinking deeper into my sci-fi/spec/magical realism nerdery throughout the pandemic, among other ways of permissioning myself to be a whole, complex being in a body. Thank you ❤️
Loved reading this Elle. I have a brother deep in the D&D fandom so reluctantly gave it a go on a family holiday a few years ago and had a bloody great time.