"i'd rather be seen and alive than dying by your point of view"

Friends,

I’m sitting on the floor of my apartment. This is terrible for my posture, terrible for the random back pains that being 31 gifts you. But there’s something to be said about needing to feel grounded while writing. I think it helps me to feel emotionally safe. It helps me to feel calm.

It’s Friday afternoon. I’ve made a coffee (thank god for Lavazza). I ordered Greek. A cherry tomato salad, chicken, lemon roasted potatoes with tzatziki. I also have had this hyper-fixation with iced spearmint tea for the past few days. So there’s tea brewing on the stove, ready for me to pop it into the fridge for later.

My mom’s here. I mean, she’s always here. But she hung out with me in my dream the other night. I was eating a tomato salad at my nonna’s house, spilling tomato juice all over my clothes and didn’t even notice. When I stood up, there were tomato stains all over my sweatpants. And that’s when I looked at my mom, started laughing, and said, “Oh my god, Mom. Why didn’t you tell me I have tomato juice everywhere?”

And you know what she replied? With the biggest smile on her face.

“Why would I tell you? That’s just who you are.”

I keep thinking about this. How the tomato juice had seeped into my sweatpants, how happy I was, and how I wasn’t sharing my tomato salad with anyone else around me. I keep thinking about how being at my Nonna’s represented who I was as a child. Unbothered, unaffected by the world around me. Existing in innocence, existing in a state of bliss. It was all, just … pure joy. And I think she was telling me - Just. Be. You.

Funny enough, I had written her a letter the night before. I was telling her about my day. I went to the spa as a treat from recovering from the stomach flu. Red light therapy, a massage, a facial, a haircut. Then, a sandwich lol.

I was so happy, but part of me felt so guilty for being so happy. For having such a beautiful day. And that’s a big part of grief that I don’t know if people understand. Survivor’s guilt.

I used to get it a lot after she passed. I was on the beach in Puglia, a few months after she died. And I just remember holding my head in my hands. Sobbing. Because I felt like I didn’t deserve to be surrounded by this much beauty. I didn’t deserve to experience love.

It was almost a, “Why me? Why do I get to live this life, and why not her? Why was she robbed of this?”

But maybe that’s the misconception between the living and the dead. People think the dead are these cloaked figures who float around and haunt the earth, imparting misery disguised as karma.

But, maybe, they are the complete opposite. Maybe they’re angels who want you to exist and experience the human form in ways in which they never did.

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So, in the spirit of “just be you” - I’ll tell you something.

I keep seeing 5’s and butterflies everywhere. In fact, I had a dream where the MFB placed a butterfly on the back of my hair. Maybe he’s setting me free, was my first thought. And every time I glance at a clock, a receipt, a license plate - there it is. 555. The number of transformation.

I noticed the 5’s when I first came back to Toronto in October, where me and OFM were in that weird stage of “figuring things out”. When I was AirBnB hopping in the city, not staying at a place for longer than 3 weeks. In the physical sense, it was a transformational period.

But this time, I feel the change on the emotional level. Jobs that I’ve prioritized, relationship patterns, and friendships that have existed over the past few years - I’m starting to feel like they are not matching the Emily who is. They matched the Emily who was, that’s for sure. And they were part of the journey to get here. But when you start to see and identify what really matters to you (in my case - art, and throwing myself fully into writing) - what you want to receive in every aspect of your life changes.

There was a moment in my writing group, this past Sunday. It was 7 PM, I had all of my rose candles lit. We were in our own spaces, talking about different moments in our life where the universe handed us a “tower moment”. Meaning, when our worlds shifted out of our control for a period of time, but it ended up being a catalyst for necessary monumental change. A redirection. And I just felt like…this is it. This is the purpose of it all. This is my joy. Girlhood. Storytelling. Vulnerability. Reflecting, creating meaning. Healing. Uplifting. Catharsis. I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Just. Be. You.

And I thought about the past fall, where everything felt unsteady and unsure and on shaky ground. And I think about now. My daily walks to the grocery store, to the coffee shop. Being remembered, being called “love”.

“Morning love. I don’t usually see you before 11.” The barista greets me. I tell him that my new sleep gummies knock me out right at 10 PM, so I’m bright eyed and bushy tailed at 6.

“It’s great, but unfortunately it gives me more hours in the day to get into trouble.”

I think about the girls at the skincare store, and how my skincare routine is arguably, one of the most important things in my life. It’s self-care, it’s about filling your life with beautiful things to make you feel good. I think about how I don’t need to justify my obsession to anyone.

I think about how my friend left me Pepto Bismal outside my apartment door when I had the stomach flu last week. Leaning on your friends, leaning on your community.

I think about what I’ve learned makes an enriching life. And it’s practicing and leaning into what you love. And when you have those practices. Of being a regular at your coffee shop, spending your morning with your gua sha, creating art, building that community, leading that creative legacy - you want everything else you do to radiate with that same exact love those practices are giving you.

You want to be around people who are kind. Who can meet you just as much as you’ve met yourself. People who can uplift and inspire you. People who create, and aren’t afraid of who or what they might meet, when they start creating.

Just. Be. You.

I’m going to leave you here. With Ariana’s a cappella version of Hampstead.

And a wish for you to lean into who you are, and what you truly love.

Thank you for being on this journey with me.

xo,

Emily

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I don't remember too much of the last year

But I knew who I was when I got here

'Cause I'm still the same but only entirely different

And my lover’s just some lines in some songs