Our Stuff Matters


Emotions are tricky
things.


When I was in high school, I always thought of emotions as
solids. They remained as they were, standing tall and unmoving. Like happiness.
I grew up thinking happiness was a state of being that would remain with me.
Maybe you thought so to, growing up happily ever after.
Emotions are not solids but liquids, they’re fluid. They
move and change every day. We can’t hold onto an emotion, like happiness,
because we have to experience other emotions like anger or sadness, in order to
feel the value of happiness. The feeling of how lucky we feel a moment of complete undiluted happiness.
In order to explain my next train of thought, I have to tell
you I’ve been reading BECOMING by Laura Jane Williams. And with that, I confess
it’s been a while I’ve sat and read for long periods of time, but with Becoming I can’t stop reading. I have to
put it down every once in a while because I don’t want to stop reading it. It
feels precious, like every thought or
emotion I’ve had since having my heart broken at 16 matters. I didn’t think it mattered. Because I was
young. And then I felt it all again at 17 and 19, with the same boy, and it’s
still the same heartbreak over and over again.
The thing about Becoming, is that I was finally told
that being heartbroken mattered. That the period of healing mattered, and that it
isn’t always two weeks and a vodka swig away.
And as I write this I haven’t finished, because I need to
write everything I feel with this book because my lost is starting to feel a
lot like my own becoming. (You can get Becoming
here, on Amazon).
Emotions are fluid. They come and go. There’s nothing you
can grapple on to, it simply flows and flows through your hands. But it
matters. It all matters, even if this mattering only stays for a day, a week or
even an hour. If you believe it matters, then it does. That’s it.
I couldn’t stop laughing when I realised this, the tears
streamed down my face as I slowly went from cackles to quiet chuckles. It felt
like a moment, because it was a moment. It still is a moment.
All of this stuff
I carried with me suddenly became lighter, because it became of importance, of
value. Like, I was no longer even carrying this stuff. It was a piece of me,
like my bones and my heart, not a rucksack on my back.

I think we get caught
up in thinking we both do matter, and don’t matter. It terms of social media,
we want approval or to be seen through likes on a picture. And like, there’s
nothing shameful about it. But we feel this shame. We feel we have to make
ourselves smarter or cooler, when really we’re just existing like other people
are existing and that’s all there is to it.
 There’s work and
peoples lives and advertising, all penetrating our bubble but like. There’s
more than that. There’s sounding wank on the internet because everyone is a
cynic and looking out to make the first laugh, to get retweets and that’s
funny. It is, it is but also there’s talking. And being honest, being open,
having someone listen and reply to you. And you will sound wanky, even writing
this might strike you as wanky but everyone gets wanky. If you cut out the part
of you that goes on about it, you get to the other stuff. The deeper stuff. The
important life stuff.

I don’t mind sounding like a wank, I’m a writer so it goes
in the job description.  
Because that stuff, the stuff
that happens to you? That matters. It does. It comes together and it forms you,
moves parts of you like liquid, rearranges stuff to form this new version of
you. Don’t think it doesn’t matter because some people might not listen or
understand.

I think we all deserve to be told our feelings matter, our experiences.
It’s simply the degree in mattering that we should question. It should matter
to us, to the ones we love and who love us in return. But it may not matter to
others, to the strangers or acquaintances but that’s okay. As long as we
believe it matters, then it does.
I think having my heart broken so young, and then so
regularly by the same boy matters. It’s shaped me into who I am and how I see
myself. And since this heartbreak happened during high school (I’m 20) then to
a lot of people it didn’t matter. It was brushed under the carpet, even by me
because I got sick of hearing myself. I got sick of trying to work it all out
when I didn’t yet have the tools to understand.
So it’s Sunday and I’m in bed finishing off Becoming and I want you to read this as
a reminder; your experiences, emotions and thoughts matter. They do. You may
think they don’t, because at times the world (and the internet) can be a lonely
place. But you’ve got to remember to OWN your stuff. If you believe it matters,
OWN THE THING. Have confidence in it, because it’s important.

I am so glad I read this book, because I feel like I’ve
finally came to understand my heartbreak matters. I knew, deep down, how much
it had changed me. I was ashamed, because it was a high school romance two
years ago. But it was also my first love. The first time my life became entwined with someone else’s.  And I think
I no longer hold guilt talking about this, because it was my experience and
this is my space to talk about things I wish. I don’t have to want Him back to
talk about it, because I don’t.

I just want to work out my own Becoming.

All my love,

Lou x

Want to send an email? Contact louisenicoleramsay@gmail.com
Twitter; @LouiseRamsay_
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One Response to Our Stuff Matters

  1. Lauren says:

    Love your use of the word 'wank' in this post. It's so frustrating when people don't take your emotions seriously because of your age. I find that time never actually changes anything – just your perspective. I went through a dreadful two year relationship when I was 17-19. I cried the whole time and now when I look back, it seems like nothing. I was in love with a guy I went to school with when I was 11 right through to 14 and that now seems more real to me than some of the actual relationships I've had. It all matters. xx

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