Mind vs. Wardrobe
Dear Friends,
When I was sixteen, my friend Anna Kate spent the night at my house and dyed her hair raspberry pink in the hall bathroom. Looking back now, I’m not sure if it was the first time she’d dyed her hair, or if it was just time for a refresh–whatever the case, this incident goes down in Dannenberg family lore.
The dye job happened late at night after my parents had gone to bed. The next morning, Anna Kate and I slept in, as teenagers do, and my mother entered the bathroom that morning to find a tub full of what she thought were bloody towels.
Her mind imagined the worst–extreme injury! Loss of limb! Until we emerged for breakfast and she saw Anna Kate’s hair.
Anna Kate’s love for hair dye continued. Twenty years later, her Instagram account is largely an homage to her ever-changing rainbow bob. There’s Anna Kate with pink hair, wearing a neon sequined jacket. With rainbow space buns and a blouse patterned with strawberries and snakes. With bleach and rainbow tips, posing alongside a poodle whose ears are dyed to match.
So it made me laugh, last week, when she posted an Instagram story of the LA Goth & Bubblegum houses labeled “my mind” above the dark house and “my wardrobe” above the pink.
“Oh god,” I replied to her post–“flip them, and that’s me.”
While I am committed to sitting with hard emotions and naming the difficult things in life, I am probably a person whose mind is largely rainbows. I’m always on the lookout for nice things. People, books, and good weather make me happy. I chose “delight” as my word for the year.
And yet, I feel most myself when I’m wearing all black. While Anna Kate’s fashion aesthetic might be Tokyo, mine is definitely Copenhagen. I want a scarf. A black raincoat. Black pants and boots.
When I’m shopping and faced with sweaters in an array of colors, my brain goes, “Just get the black. You’ll be happier.”
The houses reminded me of a game my college friends and I used to play–are you Amy Poehler or Tina Fey? Amy Poehler plays light, but it always feels like it’s coming from a dark place on the inside. Tina plays dark, but is actually light.
(I’m a Tina.)
Why do we do this?
It’s as if creating a contrast between how we feel and what we present to the world operates as some sort of protective mechanism. If I lead with lug-sole boots and an oversized black sweater, maybe you will see me as someone to take seriously. Not as what I suspect I really am: someone who has few meaningful thoughts to contribute to the conversation. Someone who isn’t as well-read as she looks. Someone who is, for all intents and purposes, kind of basic.
Is it all just insecurity? Is it balance? Or is the thing we’re protecting better labeled “interiority?” I often think of something singer-songwriter Phoebe Bridgers said in an interview–that it was hard to keep interiority “while sharing so much of yourself with the world.”
Unlike Phoebe Bridgers, I am not famous. But I always feel a jolt when someone in a real-life conversation references something personal I wrote in this newsletter. Like, oh, but I didn’t tell you that. Wait, I guess I did? I guess I told everybody that.
John G. Hendy said we all have three voices–“the one we think with, the one we speak with, and the one we write with.” And while the Thinking Voice and the Writing Voice are very close cousins, they’re not actually the same. You know me, but not everything. Better buy another black sweater.
Then there’s that William James quote that complicates things further–“Whenever two people meet, there are really six people present. There is each man as he sees himself, each man as the other person sees him, and each man as he really is.”
What is the true, unfiltered self? Is it stripped of wardrobes, of external judgments? What about internal ones? Don’t we all keep secrets, even from our therapists, even from ourselves?
Sometimes I think the best we can do, when it comes down to figuring ourselves out, is to keep asking questions and wait. Which house am I, really? Am I Amy or Tina? What do I think this dream means? Which patterns am I creating and which ones am I breaking?
If I don’t know which self in the multitudes is really me, can I live authentically?
One of the most valuable outcomes of all this interior mucking around, though, is that it invites us to take a step back and wait.
I’m reminded not to make assumptions, of course.
There’s this:
But also this:
Just as our wardrobes, our hair, our first impressions, and our newsletters aren’t our full selves, neither are our thoughts.
I like the exercise of imagining my thoughts as leaves floating individually down a moving stream. It’s here, I see it. I wait, it passes.
There’s also the practice of changing our language around our thoughts and emotions. What’s the difference between saying “I am angry” vs. “I feel angry”? Or “I feel sad” vs. “I am sad”?
One is a value judgment. The other is an experience.
On our blog last week, art therapist Kathryn Harlow had an interesting take on emotions, which I think also applies to our thoughts: “I often work with my clients to begin viewing ‘emotions as information’ rather than something to repress or hide from. Emotions are signals for us to notice and attune to, providing us with pertinent information about what we need, much like other sensations such as thirst, hunger, or fatigue.”
Pink hair? Information. Self-deprecating insecurities about being basic? Just information.
Taken alone, each element could be encountered as a bathtub full of bloody towels. But wait awhile. Eventually, everyone will come to the breakfast table. And then it all begins to make sense.
Take good care,
Dot
News & Updates
What is EDPP Supervision? The El Duende process painting technique, originated by Abbe Miller, is a one-canvas painting that uses many layers built up over the supervision experience to enhance clinical learning. We offer supervision for Virginia LPCs and us-based Art therapists in qualifying states.
Individual Supervision: Laura offers individual supervision in person at our office in old town Alexandria, VA, or virtually. $110/Session. If your state has its own art therapy license (KY, MD, NJ, NY, TN, TX, AZ, LA, NH), hours will not count towards your credential. Please make sure you confirm exact requirements with your state board.
In-Person Supervision Group: Our in-person group meets monthly in Old Town and is open to therapists accruing hours for the Registered Art Therapist (ATR) credential and the Licensed Professional Counselor (LPC) license in Virginia. $200/4 Hours.
Virtual Supervision Group: Our virtual group meets monthly and is open to US-based art therapists in qualifying states. $200/4 hours. If your state has its own art therapy license (KY, MD, NJ, TN, TX, AZ, LA, NH), hours will not count towards your credential. Please make sure you confirm exact requirements with your state board.
Get in touch! send us an email at info@alexandriaarttherapy.com or fill out our interest form.
Blog Posts
In our last installment of “8 Things We Swear By,” we’re chatting with Kathryn Harlow about Frida Kahlo, houseplants, and learning to view emotions as information.
Links We Like
Would you watch a reality show about…painting? (NYT)
This color palette generator is fun to play with.
Boost happiness by treating your weekend like a vacation. (WaPo gift link).
One person’s description of what it feels like to live with ADHD.
Loved this blog on how Playdoh might help your kids open up about their feelings: “Our hands — and half our brains — were occupied; we weren’t looking at each other; no one felt any need to keep a conversation going.”
“Easily perfect all of your memories.” (This one’s been interesting to consider as I continue my 27-day photography project…)
Fascinating, and another game for figuring ourselves out–the gap between how old you are and how old you think you are (and where trauma can fit in). (The Atlantic)
A comforting read on wintering.
Let there be room for not knowing.
Maybe it’s in us all. Photo by Jessica Peterson:
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Umm...my mind is blown? Great edition this week.