💌 Metamorphasis 💌 ( from april 2022)
Wrote this on another website, so importing the text here.
Metamorphosis. Yes, one of the best albums of all time. Hilary Duff. 2003. Absolute bangers from front to back.
Also, an idea on my mind these days.
As the springtime rolls around in New York City, I see metamorphosis in front of my eyes. Cherry blossoms blooming in the parks, everyone outside on these brighter mornings and longer days. I see a city I remember from years ago. A place that almost feels normal again.
In the Persian calendar and surrounding Central Asian cultures, the first day of spring is the first day of our new year. We believe this natural transformation should guide our own timeline as well. It’s our biggest cultural holiday; we gather around family, eat great, flavorful food, and practice our ancient traditions. My mother reads a poem by Hafez for each of us in the family, to guide us and share some wisdom to enter the new year. It’s a time to reflect on who we’ve been, and move forward towards who we want to be. I find myself entering the springtime with a passion that’s been asleep for months. Nature’s metamorphosis awakens a hunger; I crave to find purpose and peace in this lifetime I’ve got. Maybe it’s in my bones to use this time so mindfully.
I’m not the same person I was before the pandemic. I don’t think any of us are. Instead of denying that or dwelling on that reality, what if this time, I choose to look forward with hope, and not fear? With my time alone, I think I’ve really learned much more about what I want to value, cherish, and celebrate in this world, and how much love I’ve denied myself. It’s been bittersweet to face this truth: I’ve hated myself, so, so deeply. I need to heal from this torture, and I need to choose love.
Love is not a destination, but a path we choose or we don’t. Everything we think, say, and do is a reflection of this love. My metamorphosis is protecting my love, this precious and sacred truth, against the vanity and ego that tries to hurt it. Within me, and around me.
I’ve let people walk all over me, harming myself in the name of obedience. I’ve thought I deserve the shadows. I don’t want to feel so trapped and afraid anymore. I want to run and scream and cry and fall. I want to stomp and throw and play and sleep.
This flimsy, silly world is a lot less threatening now that I’ve seen how easily it can crumble. I followed the rules my whole life, but a fire blazes inside me that brightens every room. It cannot burn out, no matter how hard I fought to kill the flame. I will follow the direction of my flame, even if it lights an uncharted path.
My growth this year, my metamorphosis, must be to root for myself. I need to. Too much of what I want to change or say has been muffled by doubt and hesitation. I’m learning I deserve to go for my dreams like everyone else. Even if it’s harder for some of us, more hurdles, more bias working against us, I am the gamechanger, I am rewriting the rules and you’re going to have to listen. This is bigger than myself– I have something to prove to everyone, including myself.
All we can do is learn who we are, learn what we say to ourselves, learn from the mistakes we’ve made, and get a little closer to ourselves everyday rather than run away. Be at peace with ourselves rather than at war. My metamorphosis is to become closer to the confidence within me on my own terms, and believe in my vision as an artist and creator in today’s confusing, altered, and changing world. I’m a first generation Iranian American, and I will kick all these fucking doors down, and I’ll do it in my fuzzy pink pumps, too.
<3 <3 <3
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