A(nother) Brave Leap!
Welp, I did something really brave. I submitted a conference proposal to the United States Association of Body Psychotherapy and to my surprise and elation, it got accepted. So next month, I’ll be traveling to San Francisco and giving a talk on Neurodivergent Somatics, the model I created for providing trauma informed, anti-ableist counseling for Autistic and ADH clients. OMG, the excitement and the terror. They really did say yes to an openly queer, trans, late identified Autistic person. Whoa!
These last five years have been such a journey of consistent bravery. Coming out after coming out, liberating myself from the inside out, again and again and again. It started with a moment of awakening “I’m ready to date women!” (which led me to Karolina, my non-binary love and partner extraordinaire)...Which evolved into, “wait a sec, I’m not a woman!”...Which then evolved into, “I’m ready to trust that food can be safe”, and then finally, the seemingly unsolvable mystery of my life long difference that I couldn’t pin down: “I’m Autistic!”
After a lifetime of feeling guilty for taking up space on the planet, working hard to be small and invisible, adamant that I didn’t matter and wasn’t important, I’m now incredibly visible and it’s both deeply liberating and terrifying.
I let myself come into my queerness. I let myself come into my trans non-binaryness. I let myself get fat. I let myself find accurate language for my neurotype. I let myself move across the country in the name of love, gain parental figures, fall in love with the ocean, and live in the same home for more than a year and a half (since 2011).
I’m not playing small anymore. I take up the most space I’ve ever taken up before-physically, mentally, emotionally, socially, energetically, spiritually. In the midst of my marginalized identities, I’m more aware than ever of how privileged I am-the unearned privilege that comes with my white body. And as terrified as I am to be so visible to groups of strangers, I’m not holding myself back.
As you might imagine, my anxiety has been utterly massive since getting the news of my proposal being accepted. I was brave enough to admit that I feel like I’m gonna die in San Francisco next month. After all, anxiety is all about fearing for our survival and being “too good” at identifying possible threats, so it kinda makes sense.
Karolina was being encouraging and reminded me of how many people believe in me and care about me. In response, my insides wanted to shout: “well then there’s gonna be a lot of sad people when I’m dead next month!” (The thought was completely serious when it happened, but as I re-read that sentence, I can’t help but burst out laughing). I was admitting the truth on my anxiety.
The more that I’m telling myself what’s actually coming up (the nuances and specifics of the fears), the less I’m being knocked over by the big big energy pulsating through my system that otherwise has me feel totally overwhelmed and out of control. The more I turn toward verses away-scary! and brave!-the more I can feel my feet on the ground and breathe.
I likely won’t be killed by a room full of somatic therapists for talking about Neurodivergent Somatics, the problems with the DSM, qualities of Autistic people who are/were socialized as girls, or how to be anti-ableist. As gross as it is and as painful as it is to admit, my white body offers me extra protection in that realm.
So while my heart likely won’t stop beating for good next month, there probably is a part of me who will die. Perhaps my younger, wounded part who has said “I must be skinny to belong” and “who I am is disgusting” and “I don’t have a right to exist” and “I’m nothing.” They (my part) may be forced to admit that while they had reason for believing those ideas at one point, there is no more present moment evidence to back up their claims. They may have to stop and consider that it’s not that “who Nyck is is fundamentally bad and wrong,” but that they are wrong in who they perceive Nyck to be. That in reality, who Nyck actually is is a perfectly flawed human (or perhaps an Earth-suit-wearing being pretending to be human, which might be why this whole humaning thing is so darn confusing and can feel like such a shit show at times, but anyway, I digress ;-) who has something important to say-and that this social justice work is THAT important that it’s worth dying for.
I promise to check-in in late May when I’m back from California and let you know how it went :-)
Words can’t express the depth of gratitude I feel for all the people I’ve had the gift of being able to call “clients” over the years. You are my inspiration for being so brave and doing this justice work. You have been a monumental part of my own growth journey, both personally and professionally. I am such a better human for knowing you.
