THREAD

2020

Stories are the black thread that weave together humanity at its core. Our lives follow the course of the stories within and around us we accept as truth.

My research explored fairy tales and mythology in an attempt to gain more understanding as to why societies are so attached to them. I delved into understanding the weight that these traditional stories held long ago, and why they cease to hold it. The void that has been left behind by a lack of such narrative is not capable of being filled the way it once was. The research helped to explain why we cling to stories. It is through them that we understand and make sense of our world.  The fact that we so readily accept stories told to us verbally by people who are influential to us as a truth, even if it goes against our own lived experience, is partially due to this. Narratives told to us by such people in our lives hold an indescribable weight, much like those traditional tales once did. Words shape so much of our existence. What we view as our place, or lack of, in the world around us and more is easily influenced by these messages.

I am sharing a personal reflection on this idea through a mixed media approach. I chose to utilize my own translations of symbolic imagery and metaphorical meaning around the idea of “thread” with a focus on Ariadne’s Thread from the myth “Theseus and The Minotaur”. Throughout my work for this collection I rely heavily on the use of ink. This is due to the additional meaning I have chosen to tie to ink’s already significant role in the art of story, a correlation to thread, for the purpose of my own storytelling.

In my work, I look critically at the traumatic events that have shaped much of my life story up to this point. I examine my confusion, fear, and pain over having accepted a narrative put upon me. I acknowledge how this narrative spun itself negatively throughout much of my being. This has affected not only my view of myself, but also how I saw and interacted with the world around me.

Here is my declaration of picking up my own pen. I cannot fully remove the ink engraved thus far into my life and self. However, I can choose to move forward writing my story with an understanding of what is true to myself and my soul. Here I scream out the frustration, sadness, anger and more that lingers. Here I celebrate the hope, love and beauty I find on my path of healing and growth.

I was told I was a monster and cast into a labyrinth woven from twisted realities. A masterly crafted web of lies and half truths all pinned to my very existence, convincing me that I am the problem. The shell of myself goes about it’s life.

Pretending, burying, shielding, hiding, surviving.

It hurts. That is what we have in common.

Had it just been me wandering here trapped this story might not have unfolded the way it has. It is possible things would have never changed.

It is not just me.

My sister and my brother are here too.

I catch glimpses of something akin to my own reflection in their eyes. Unlike myself, I can also see in them their potential. The beauty of the kind hearts and incredible minds they hold on to. That they could see themselves as the root of all this turmoil hurts more than any of my own pain. It breaks me in a special sort of way to witness them slowly being ripped apart inside.

Worthless, alone, unloved, unwanted, a burden, the problem.

These words act as just a few of the ever shifting walls that define our existence in this labyrinth. We are kept bound and tethered by the hope that we could bring all these walls tumbling down if only we could be better.

If only we could be enough.

Something is wrong, but it isn’t us. I want to protect them from you. But why? Why would they need protecting? At what point did I start feeling this way?

It has always been like this.

Did I need to be protected too?

No one was there to see, to know for sure except for you. Before catching glimpses of them I was here alone. Before even them I lost the ability to reach out. You didn’t believe me when I needed you.

You spun this web.

I was innocent just like them.

I was told I was a monster, that everything was because of me, and I believed it must be true. It was all I had known. This was home. Time and again I was always in the thick of the trouble. Only causing more with each attempt to be truly seen, to be loved. I wanted to fix it. I tried so hard to.

I will never be able to take apart this sticky web of a labyrinth by myself.

I did not create this.

I could not solve the labyrinth built around me because this knot was never mine to untangle. My child self, the monster, simply haunted its paths inside my soul.

I have to let go of this thread.

This is not my story.

It hurts. Today I choose to rip out another seam that binds me to those beliefs. I do not want to let go because this is all I have known. I do not want to be in mourning. If I could be selfish I would hold on. I would continue to think that if I stayed we could fix it together. I would stay fine with being your monster. I would cling to the hope that everything will be okay even as I struggle to breathe.

I was watching us all slowly drown in this story.

I let go to save my sister and my brother.

I am learning how to breathe again. Today the battle to get up and exist was easier than it has been in a long time. It still hurts, but now I am able to stand strong within myself. I’m setting aside the burdens that were never mine to bear.

Having gentle moments of peace like this is a relief I can not describe.

I am not your monster. I never was.

I have chosen to accept my monster, my child self. To be my own hero. Like Ariadne, I have left your kingdom to walk my own path now.

The thread of my story will be woven with my own hands.

What remains unchanged is how much I love you.

I hope the thread I left behind helps you to find yourselves my sister and my brother.

I miss you so much.

It tears at the fabric of my story I try to shape.

I am going to work hard and make sure there is plenty of space for you to write here too, if you want to be with me. I hope you learn to love yourselves too. Please know that I always love you. You will feel different in my arms when I get to see you again. I can not wait for that. I am determined to thrive with you.

I will always be here.

I will be waiting for you.