Cringe no more

Let's read each other our diaries

Disco Diaries is a free publication of micro-essays and vignettes. If you enjoy it, consider supporting it financially. You can send a few dollars straight to my Venmo (@katyabaro). No wiggle room in the budget? No problem. Sharing this newsletter with friends who may enjoy it shows immense support, too.

---

---

In a few weeks, I’m co-hosting an event called “Cringe Theater.” It’s a celebration of earnest moments from the past that make us cringe in the present. We’re talking impassioned journal entries, early attempts at song and poetry, choreography from middle school.

Often we look back and see these expressions as awkward or dramatic. That may be true to our current refined palate. And yet, these things are a sweet reminder of where we’ve been and the things we’ve experienced. Like a bad tattoo that you love for the story, the things we’ll highlight in Cringe Theater deserve to be observed.

In preparation for my role as co-host — an honor that I was flattered to be given — I’ve been reading through old journals. Scanning those messy pages is one of my favorite self-centered things to do, but this is my first time really digging deep.

Of course, it can be a challenging read. For many years I was deeply depressed and heavily influenced by the wrong people. These people used me, abused me, manipulated me, and made me feel like I could never and would never be “right.” When I look through pages from this time, I can hardly believe, much less accept, how fucked it was.

I know, roughly, when I snapped out of it, somehow. Yesterday I was reading the journal from that time period. Although I definitely didn’t feel like it then, I was learning to love myself. I can actually watch myself figure out what I do and don’t deserve, freeing myself a little at a time, right there on the pages.

I’m now aware of the things and people that made a big difference. For one thing, the most harmful person to me moved away. Just 30 minutes out of town, but enough for healing space. We’ll call him T, just to be courteous. With that additional space, I started making relationships outside of that bubble. Just little ones — coworkers, bar friends — but it was still enough to keep me tied to reality.

The effects of all that are demonstrated in this little, simple passage from my diary in January 2014. It’s the first time I write about cherishing my life as my own — even though I don’t quite say it like that.

I was closing at the coffee shop tonight. A few customers were in there. Taylor was on her laptop waiting for Brittney, who was closing with me, and Tony was sitting and talking to John. I experienced this satisfaction — not quite comfort, not fulfillment, but just the realization that this I my life, the people around me, who will remain tomorrow when T is gone. The things I’m doing, which will also remain, and my job — I’ve let all of that be there. It’s my life, mine alone, whether exciting, mundane, predictable, sad, it will always remain.

I’m a hardcore proponent of the diary — and also a believer in reading it out loud to friends and strangers. As you might know by now, reader, I like shining a spotlight on all the secret, vulnerable moments. They could help us relate, connect, and be sincere with one another. And they can be funny.

Cringe Theater will have an open mic segment, as well as scheduled performers. If you’re in the Cincinnati area and want to do your sixth grade dance to “Genie in a Bottle,” reach out!

Subscribe ~ Comment ~ Email Me!