I Love Me Like Kanye Loves Kanye

If I’m honest, I’m learning a lot about myself like I feel the people around me are as well. I’ve learned that you learn to see the archetypes of beings that are around you through the sociopolitical spaces you inhabit. I’m learning more about myself, the world, the way I interact with the world and also my positionality even as I write this right now.

Here are some things that i’ve compiled that I “know” about myself through this experiment I’ve been doing:

Performer, Dancer, Daddy, Trans, Drag, Lawyer, Man, Woman, Charming, Bitch, Loca

This experiment is one where I listen more, I listen to the adjectives that people use to describe me and I consolidate them into a word that will go into my identity board. This board is an ongoing process, it will definitely change through the methods I do it but right now it can best be done visually and in my face when I go through my closet.

I love me, like Kanye loves Kanye. This says a lot in today’s society, it inhibits a space that really delves into the meaning of who we are as beings. We speak of our primal innate ability to think, to know, to inhibit and to grow and we learn to see ourselves through the way people see you. The experiment is tied into my self-love because the being I see is a combination of these things but also all at the same time.

My constant question recently has been, “Who Am I?” when in reality it should be, “Who do I want to be?” I know who I am, but in order to get to where I want to go I need to break the prisons of my minds and release into this new being. I’m both, my life has always been both and will continue to be both for years to come.

Thank you Kanye for giving us a lesson on love.

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The Camaleón’s Quench

I think I just saw you.

Have you ever gotten the feeling that the energy you’re surrounded by seems too familiar? Have you ever looked around in a room and could swear in your heart that you’ve been in this situation before?

I do, I believe as I grow further into my process I’m beginning to see the pockets in which reality is created and augmented by the level of energy you interact with it. I state this from my perspective with wanting to see myself and be my free Camila-ness. I say this from the experience of knowing I just need to make time to do the things I want to put forth.

What tomorrow marks is not just another transformation but it is a time in which I’m putting my cards out on the table and seeing what can become of this. Company retention is key, but am I setting myself up for failure or am I psyching myself out of something that could potentially grow. If there’s one thing I learned more than anything is that I’m worth it; my perspective is valid and I need to be there for myself more than I would be there for my own family.

I’m growing, and I don’t think I will ever stop growing. Growing into the women I am today took a lot of grief, as I said with a colleague of mine earlier, “I felt like I lost a part of myself moving home,” in which we rooted it in a sense to forgot who we are. I perform for my comfort, I volunteer for my comfort, and I’m leaving for my comfort.

Why do I feel selfish for putting myself first? Why do I feel I’m going to lose people along the way? Why am I thinking that to grow I must really grow out of myself?

I believe I’m there; I’ve said that I’m ready but never acknowledged it through written language. Through this page, this platform I acknowledge where I’m at. My name is Camila – this is my story.

I feel her.

You are in me. 

You are near me, you are in me and you are around me.

You are me. 

You are me at three, you are me at five, you are me at six, you are me when I’m around a lot of dicks. 

My body is yours. From my curves, to my fingertips, to the very ends of every hair follicle on my body you are me. 

You are me from the past and an unknown future. You are the colliding of two dimensions crashing into a corporeal presence of being. 

I make you. I make you with our clammy hands, 10 brushes, 5 sponges, 3 wig caps, 15 Bobby pins and even the fucking fake eyelashes that glue together this notion of a “drag queen.” 

You are a queen. You’re a queen of a land inside of you unknown to the naked eye. You’re a queen from the white snowcap covered mountains to the deepest point in the ocean 20,000 leagues under the sea. 

I make you. I make you and I break you, I am you and you are me. Together there is a “we” that is not seen, not apparent yet so obvious. This “we” becomes a sort of dance in our body in which we are both leading and following, learning and unlearning, gasping for air at the thought of a day outside.

I make you like I make my perception of the earth around me grow. I grow as you grow, I weed the bad parts of my life as I quickly discover rot on other areas of my garden. I am a gardener, a tender and distributor of love, nutrients, sustenance and a hope at a life yet to be made. 

I feel you. I feel you inside my life the scratching of a cat wanting to be let inside, like the feeling of starting up your car in the morning when it’s really cold, like the feeling of being stuck in traffic and having to pee, and even like the feeling of accidentally prickling your thumb while putting buttons up. This is you. You are the feeling of a being inside of me, a feeling of a longing I’ve yet to master.

We are seekers. We are seekers of knowledge, love, lust and power. I think that you mindlessly scroll through dating apps hoping to find somebody that will change the perception of what this area is. You expect something different, better, bigger and almost better yet nothing is ahead. This uncertainty, this feeling of angst is shrouded by false interactions, false intentions, false profiles, false advertising and false abs. This feeling of uncertainty is the embodiment of hours of scrolling through an application in which you are interested in no one and yet still everyone. You are a kid in the candy store whining that there are no options when a single piece of Tootsie-Roll was handed to you in a silver plater. 

I say silver because you want gold. We want gold. I feel you like I see gold. I feel you in gold. Gold medals, gold earrings, gold plated 4 inch platform shoes with red trim, 24k gold flaked pizza, gold shimmer for a night out and even gold underwear. 

Here I am in the present tense only knowing what I’ve been taught and dissecting parts of me I’ve yet to realize. I call this present tense the self which is made from my last year,  my last week and my last night. I think of myself as a being coming to terms with this concept bigender. What is it, and, what am I? 

For now, I feel you.