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I told someone yesterday that I’m moving to Berlin to disappear, to be someone else … or rather to be no one, because if I really think hard about it, it’s the possibilities of a blank slate that excite me.
Wouldn’t that be nice?
Because the truth is that something changed over the past six months. I stopped freelance writing back in September, so that I could fully concentrate on my book. And I’ve been feeling creatively blocked for ages, so long that I can’t even tell you when it first began (2008?), but last fall, I made a decision to get my shit together (finish proposal, choose agent, get contract) before my move to Berlin. By the end of November, I realized that I would have to make this story fictional. Which meant, well, total and sheer panic on my part, because I’d spent the prior three years thinking that this would be a memoir and now I would have to rewrite like a bajillion pages and holy fuck, could I even do fiction?. A month after this horrifying turn of events, I left for Asia, where I spent three weeks scribbling thoughts in longhand and sorting myself out far away from home. Hong Kong was my favorite city, because I spent the most time there alone.
When I came back, I felt better about the whole book situation. I also cut down on speaking gigs and travel for reasons of time and money and - to be honest - lack of motivation. Everything else beyond this book suddenly became extraneous and stopped mattering, stopped being something that I could even enjoy, if that makes sense. So my life became 90% book-focused with a remaining 10% for sex, yoga, brunch, my dog, and arranging flowers, a bizarrely calming activity. (Really, try it sometime.) I make a weekly trip to Harvard Square to catch up with friends, but on a day-to-day basis, I don’t get dressed unless absolutely necessary, haven’t cooked since 2011, and “entertain” guests by hosting Trader Joe’s-catered work/study parties in my living room. This book is my life, and the scary thing is that I like it this way. I don’t mind that I’ve eliminated all traces of the static, the distraction, the noise that I once welcomed.
Did you know that my Myers-Briggs type is ENFP? Sometimes, I really wonder about that.
It’s funny how I spent the last couple of years so fully immersed in progressive activism, and now I have little interest in organizing campaigns or fundraising or even showing up to events. I believe in the causes (well, some of them, at least) but I don’t have the emotional energy to deal with the internal politics and drama, and frankly, it’s all a fucking waste of my time, because I could be spending this time writing. I will let other people - optimistic, self-motivated, tireless allies - pick up where I dropped off. I just can’t do it all like I used to, and it’s slightly scary that I don’t feel the least bit guilty for saying “no”.
And oh, look, SXSW just started. Time to ditch the introversion.
I haven’t been this singularly focused on a project since I was writing SexAndTheIvy.com - not such a surprise given that this book is, after all, based on the site. It was that blog that taught me how to talk to myself, how to work out what was in my head by putting it down into word, how to listen to my instincts, how to live authentically. But with all the ensuing controversy and harassment, it didn’t seem worth the trouble to keep it up when I couldn’t write a single personal thing in it anymore. I should’ve anticipated this then (and maybe I did and ignored it) but in retrospect, that was when the writer’s block started.
There are so many things that have appalled and disgusted me about the endless harassment directed toward me and my friends/family/readers, etc. Too many libelous statements to count, too many innocent people who have been harmed, too many frantic emails and phone calls and lost hours. And you know what? I don’t even care anymore about fighting it, because there is no amount of compensation, no fitting revenge, absolutely nothing that could possibly make up for the fact that I lost touch with a part of myself for years.
Same blog, different girl.
Which is why, I was thinking: wouldn’t it be nice if I could just disappear? I could be someone else, but most importantly, I could be no one. An anonymous nobody with silence and peace and all the time in the world to write.
I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart: I am, I am, I am.
Anonymous asked: Hi Lena, I was at a really financially desperate and emotional low last semester, and ended up broadcasting on a live chat sex website. I was still dating my boyfriend at the time, with whom I had severe trust issues (fearing he would cheat on me because I was cheated on in the past). I never told him about this, knowing it would break his heart, but his friends stumbled upon a recording of a video online and told him. Now all his friends are spreading the news. I don't know what to do.
Wow, I’m SO sorry that this is happening. It’s incredibly immature and irresponsible that his friends are spreading this around, since this is something that has nothing to do with them. Perhaps you’d be able to talk to your ex, explain the situation that you were in, and ask him to encourage discretion among his friends. As someone who’s had a hell of a time dealing with (and failing to prevent) her own personal online sex scandal, I’m sorry to say that I don’t really have much more advice to offer in terms of damage control. I will say that this is a good time to confide in those you can trust - the support of my friends was what got me through the worst of times, and I will always be grateful to the people who were there for me then. Feel free to email me at lena@lenachen.com and best of luck.
More burning questions? Ask Lena.
Schlafe, mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein.
Hamlet’s been sort of a mess lately, by which I mean that he is making literal messes in the house by pissing on something practically every other day. It’s our fault, really. Between the Roomie’s dissertation and my book-writing, the pup’s not getting as much attention as he deserves.
Hoping that will all change when I get back from Austin next week, but who knows? It’s funny how wiped out I feel at the end of each day even when I’m not on the road. The writing is enjoyable - and I can’t tell you how grateful I am that the block, the cloud, the hesitation has been lifted - but I am tired all the time.
It doesn’t help that it’s Women’s History Month and that my travel schedule just got insanely busy … I always tell myself, “Never again! Not next year! Won’t make myself sick!” Lo’ and behold, it happens all over again. Though I cut down on speaking commitments this year, somehow I still have to make it to NYC, New Jersey, LA, and San Francisco within a ten-day period…
Feel free to let me know in the comments if you have any idea how to accomplish the above without seriously messing up my sleep schedule or making my dog permanently resent me :-/
Happy International Women's Day! -
It’s also the anniversary of the original Feminist Pride Day (previously known as Feminist Coming Out Day).
For the past two years, I’ve promised myself to go easier on the travel/speaking commitments in March. You know that despite organizing FCOD the previous two years, I have only attended one of the events (the first-ever one in 2010)? Maybe this will change now that the Feminist Majority Foundation is now overseeing the project.
In the meantime, a shameless plug: For Women’s History Month, People Of Color Organize! celebrates women organizers of color relating and making history. Check out their podcast interview with Abby Sun, my Feminist Pride Day co-founder and all-around awesome person :)
P.S. Though we changed the name of the national event because we did not want to appropriate the phrase “coming out” from the gay rights movement, Feminist Coming Out Day will retain its original name at Harvard (where it was first conceived as a queer event for Women’s Week). If you’re in the Boston area, tonight is the coffeehouse and reception for the opening of the 2012 Feminist Portrait Project. I’ll be there in spirit!
I’m here. I’m alive. And I’m only *mildly* sleep-deprived. (Yay, that rhymed!)
I’m kicking myself for forgetting my “As Seen On The Internet” tee (because really, how perfect would that have been for my panel?), and I’m pretty peeved that I’ll spend tomorrow scurrying around to locate last-minute business cards, but when my tummy’s full of brisket, it’s pretty hard to stay irritated.
Well, what can I say, it’s also my first SXSW, and given my inability to be ready for anything, it’s totally fitting that I’ve shown up to my deflowering with nary a plan or condom.
I’d promise live-blogging but we all know I break promises.
This is a gift. It comes with a price.
It has felt wonderful to unplug and indulge in the virtual silence the past couple weeks. Sadly, I think my quiet writing time is quickly coming to an end. I’m going to Austin a couple days earlier than expected (leaving Wednesday!) and will be decidedly online until I get back to Boston. I haven’t even figured out what I’m doing while at SXSW and will have to start making plans ASAP instead of wandering around in my head.
Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time holed up in my apartment writing about “Elle” and the Sex And The Ivy years. It’s amazing that after all this time, I’ve managed to find this girl again. Problem is, whenever I get too introspective, I tend to disappear for a bit, becoming unavailable to friends, neglectful of my GCal, and generally distracted. Not something one can keep up on the long-term. Although I will say that my sleeping schedule has never been better. A nice side effect of realizing that you only have one brain, and you best rest it if you want to use it in the morning ;)
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Catch me at this SXSW Interactive panel next week … I arrive in town this Wednesday and will be there for six days. *Very* excited to see Austin!
SEX IN THE DIGITAL AGE
Monday, March 12 12:30PM - 1:30PM
Driskill Hotel - Driskill Ballroom
As the Internet has become an increasingly integral part of our daily lives, it’s transformed virtually everything about how we live—from how we communicate with friends and family, how we get our jobs done, and, yes, how we flirt, find lovers, and explore our sexuality. In many ways, this evolution has been a positive one, bringing us amazing new ways to connect with the rest of the world, but it’s also had some unforeseen consequences. Just over a decade ago, when the country was reeling from the aftermath of the Lewinsky scandal, who could have imagined that one day a congressman would be forced to resign from his post after a scandal that involved no sex, no illicit meetings—in fact, nothing more than some online flirting and a few ill advised sexts?
Sex in the Digital Age examines how the Internet has transformed our relationship to sexuality: what it’s given us, what it’s taken away, and how it’s transformed our ideas and expectations about how our friends, lovers, and public figures can—and should—behave.