No. 07 | Logged in, turned on, and freaking nervous
I have a new essay published in an awesome magazine. So why am I so afraid to share it?
For this week’s issue of Letters by Deepa, I’m both excited and nervous to share with you a new piece of published writing.
I’m excited for a number of reasons.
This was the first time I’d ever pitched an essay to an editor, with zero idea how to do it (this helpful Masterclass article saved me). This also marks my first commissioned piece of writing in over a decade. My last commission was a beauty and lifestyle piece for the Singapore Women’s Weekly; I’ve lived at least three lifetimes since then.
This is the first time I’ve set my sights upon something as an essayist, and got it: specifically, a piece in an award-winning publication like Gal-Dem. I love their work amplifying the voices of marginalized genders and people of color, and I’m beyond thrilled to land a byline in it.
I’m nervous for a number of reasons.
This is the first time I’ve ever shared anything openly, on such a public platform, about sexuality, intimacy and relationships. Without giving it all away (because I want you to read the essay, of course!) I’ve made some unconventional choices that have developed into a significant part of my life and my identity—a life and identity I love.
It’s just starting to feel… weird that I feel I can’t—or shouldn’t—write, talk, or share about these things as much as I relish doing so about other areas of my life.
Why is that, though? Perhaps it’s because of all the cultural messages as I received growing up as a Filipino Catholic. Or because we as a society view sexuality and motherhood, or even sexuality and morality (i.e. goodness), as being fundamentally at odds. Closer to home, perhaps it’s because I’m afraid of being judged by strangers on the internet, or (this would really hurt) by people I consider my friends.
However, I’m now at the point where I feel not writing about potentially controversial areas of my life—as I did child bike seats, or dancing in Paris, or posing nude—is stifling my creativity. I have a long list of topics I could write Letters by Deepa about, events that I know I could make into vivid, moving, thoughtful, honest pieces of writing, if only I’d stop censoring myself.
Part of why I started this newsletter was to be able to share more, shall we say, challenging topics with a smaller circle of sympathetic listeners) as opposed to my 12,8K followers on Instagram, which feels like shouting to the whole world), thereby gradually widening my comfort zone, and building my courage and vulnerability muscles. I’m not the most adventurous or transgressive person I know, but sharing this piece feels like a big risk to me.
Ultimately I’m sharing this with you because I’m proud of the writing I’ve done, and want to truly own the experiences at the heart of it.
Because I don’t want to be held back by anything resembling fear or shame.
And because I have a feeling that my path of creative growth and flourishing waits for me on the other side of this mental barrier, and stretches out far beyond what I can see or imagine. I can’t wait to find out where that path will take me next.
So here goes.
I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did living it.
Click here to read “Logged in and turned on: going to my first Zoom sex party” on the Gal-Dem website.
Whew!
I’ve taken a leap of faith (or maybe just a step). I’d love you to come back to me with your thoughts, reactions, and burning questions. I’ll be at my desk, watching the rain and twiddling my thumbs nervously until I hear from you.
As always, if you like what you read (or just want to gossip about it), please feel free to share it with someone.
Warmest Mother’s Day greetings to all the mothers out there. See you in two weeks!
Letters by Deepa is a newsletter by Deepa Paul. Click here to subscribe.
Speechless with joy. You are my hero for so many reasons. xxx
Finally found the space to sit down and read it. Wow Deepa. Thank you so for sharing something so intimate. Thinking I was sort of on top of most wordly matters. This was a first for me. Thank you. X Jen