Embrace Your Weird

by Felicia Day

  * * *

  Now that we’ve talked about all the reasons WHY you should open yourself up to creativity, write in the space below the biggest reason why you’re excited to embrace creativity. Be as honest as you can.

  Awesome. Whatever you wrote…

  * * *

  3 OUR HERO-SELVES

  Creativity is driven by our need to SHOW OURSELVES. Weirdness and all. But first we have to answer: “Um, what exactly do I have to SHOW?”

  Apart from filling out personality quizzes in lady magazines, writing bios for work, or making an online dating profile (HURL), it’s rare that we actually let ourselves stop and think, “Who the heck am I?” We’re too busy reacting to what life throws at us to do stupid soul-searching.

  There are too many things to consume!

  Too many comments to read!

  Too many parties to go to!

  SQUIRREL!

  Gazing inward seems self-indulgent, like for people who go on yoga retreats. Instead, we adopt labels other people give us, like “smart” or “funny,” not really questioning if they’re right for us or not. Sure, it’s easier to exist that way, letting other people do all the us-work. But if we want to be creators, we have to know the truth of ourselves FOR ourselves. We don’t have to abandon our outer She-Ras, but we have to know who our authentic Adoras are inside. (That’s She-Ra’s true identity, FYI. She-Ra was like Superman to Adora’s Clark Kent, got it? Okay, moving on.)

  My journey of uncovering my own Hero-Self has been a long and very stumbling one. When I was a kid, I gravitated toward anything that could tell me who I should be and how I should act. People said I looked like Audrey Hepburn, so I tried to walk like her, slightly pigeon-toed. It seemed to impress people when I did math, so I carried around books like Visualizing the Fourth Dimension. (For the record, the book was cool, but I couldn’t visualize anything. I finally gave up and read all the nurse-themed Harlequin books my grandma hid in the corner of her laundry room instead.) I was so eager to grow up “right” that I forced an identity on myself rather than letting one develop in its own awkward way. “Oh no. Marie Claire August 2001 says people in my birth month tend to be impatient. Better sign up for that Zen meditation class, stat!”

  It wasn’t until I was WAY into adulthood that I started reflecting on WHY I did the things I did. Because I started wanting to know where I was actually going in life, rather than driftwooding my way through it. By asking myself hard-hitting questions like, “Do I REALLY love raw oysters, or do I just want to look fancy when throwing my head back to eat them?” I was able to reformulate a more honest sense of myself.

  Bit by bit I kept digging, and that self-excavation helped fill my inner hollow chocolate bunny-self with an awareness that finally felt true to who I was. “Actually, I hate meditating! I love fairy sculptures and shopping for stationery on Friday nights at Staples! I am ME!” Over time, I started to feel like I was whole inside. And that led to a feeling of confidence that “I DO have something to say to the world, and I would love to figure out how to share it! Using this bitchin’ stationery I bought last Friday night!”

  In this section, we’ll do that same kind of digging together. Directing our eyes inward, through the lenses of our past, present, and future, to define our creative Hero-Selves. There’s nothing more wonderful than treating ourselves as homework. Self-knowledge is our primary creative superpower!

  As we move through the exercises, we’ll constantly be taking stock of our weirdnesses. What exactly is unique about the way we see the world? How can we identify new creative areas we are drawn to? What is our skin tone REALLY? Summer, fall, winter, or spring? (This is a reference to a ’90s skin tone thing where everyone’s complexion was categorized as a season so that… why am I going out of my way to explain this joke?)

  It may help to imagine that we’re all born as a map covered in fog. (Video game people will TOTALLY get this analogy.) Our life’s task is to explore our self-maps until we uncover the areas where we feel most creative. Through the process of exploring our own inner worlds we will discover unknown edges of ourselves, stumble upon unexpected things we spark to, and be able to home in on where we want to concentrate our time and passion.

  In short, we are the jungle, baby! Let’s go exploring!

  Childhood

  Let’s rewind all the way to the beginning. “Once upon a time, there was a little sperm named…” Okay, maybe not that far. (Also it’s creepy to think about individual sperm having names, sorry!) When we’re children, creativity is as simple as breathing. We’re filled with joy when we make things. No self-consciousness. No second-guessing. We express ourselves simply because we’re excited and can’t wait to share the feeling.

  Recently my baby made up a game. “I am a cat, Mama! You are a walrus!” For some reason this involved throwing a dodgeball at my head and giggling a lot. We played it for an hour. Great game. Five stars. I noticed that she never questioned the logic of it. Or the quality. She had a joyful idea and needed to deploy it into the world. (And a dodgeball at my head.) I was envious. Then I googled how to roar like a walrus because I try to be a good mom.

  This kind of invention is beautifully automatic when we are children. Ideas come to us a mile a minute. Everything’s fresh. Everything’s exciting. “Been there, seen it” is a foreign concept. Because children have NOT been there and have NOT seen it! We’re ignorant as heck! And it’s a beautiful thing! Our worlds are marvelous playgrounds of novelty that spur constant creativity! Everything is filled with discovery! Ideas spill out uncontrollably! We are fountains of spontaneous brilliance and…

  Then we grow up.

  SCREEEEEECH.

  Pretty sure if my adult friends came over and I proposed a game of “Animal Dodgeball Head Bonk,” I’d get some REALLY weird reactions. Why? Because the game doesn’t “make sense.” (Also we could get head injuries by throwing too hard as adults, but let’s set that aside for a moment.)

  As we grow up, we’re constantly figuring out how the world works. Children have to learn literally EVERYTHING from scratch. Like the fact that horses don’t speak human. Gravity makes things fall. Pants go on legs unless there’s a dance party happening. We construct mental walls around the way we see the world out of necessity. I mean, it’s probably not safe to walk around at age thirty-five thinking we might be able to fly. But the problems start when our mental walls solidify so much that ideas that fall outside them are ignored. Because, irony, it’s when we’re able to gaze outside those walls that we’re able to come up with our most creative ideas! So how can we fix this messed-up inner architecture?

  Well, we can start with some renovations! But instead of going straight into demolition mode (which sounds a bit violent when it comes to brains), let’s do excavation work first. Like archaeologists with teeny-tiny brushes, we want to sweep for buried memories. Because it’s through exploring how we used to see the world that we can best start to reassemble a more creative self.

  * * *

  Think of something you believed to be true as a child that was impossible. Now pretend the impossible is possible, just for a second! Santa, unicorns, a dream about being an astronaut, etc. It is real. How could the impossible change your life NOW?

  The best lesson we can take from our childhoods is that there never need to be walls when it comes to our imaginations.

  * * *

  Browse through photos of when you were younger. Pick four different ages and write them below the dolls.

  Inside each of these dolls, write adjectives that describe you at that age. Really put yourself in the shoes of a “past you.”

  Which of these adjectives still apply to you today?

  Of the ones that have fallen away, which do you want back?

  REMINDER: Every age you’ve ever been is STILL INSIDE YOU! Have faith that nothing has been lost. We are all nesting dolls of every age we used to be—and we can access all of them if we try!

  * * *

 
Use an online map to locate all the houses you lived in as a kid. Then use street view to look at pictures of them. Take each one in. “Walk” around the neighborhood. Do any memories arise from these pictures? Scribble them below.

  * * *

  Name a fictional character you admired as a kid. Why did you admire them?

  What about their lives did you want to experience for yourself?

  Watch/read/enjoy a piece of entertainment with this character in it now. Does it make you feel closer to who you used to be?

  * * *

  LIGHTNING ROUND!

  Best birthday?

  Best friend?

  Favorite pet?

  Favorite food?

  First toy?

  Most hated cartoon villain?

  Most awesome vacation?

  Worst injury?

  Snack I ate the most of when my parents weren’t looking?

  Posters I had hanging in my room?

  Things I hid from my parents?

  Ways I used to annoy my siblings/friends?

  How people in school saw me?

  One word that summarized my life during the years of:

  0–5:

  6–10:

  11–15:

  16–20:

  * * *

  Even if we can’t remember tons of details from our childhoods, rest assured we all have ENOUGH to work with. Can we automatically remember what we got for Christmas when we were thirteen? Probably not. (To be honest, I can’t remember ANY of my Christmas presents. Sorry, Mom!) But then a random memory might bubble up about a trip we took to a pancake house when we were four, or we’ll be hit with the way our new puppy smelled when we brought her home when we were eight, or recall the texture of a sweater in college that we forgot in English 101 class. (It’s CRAZY how it just disappeared like that. Who stole it, and how do I get them arrested?)

  All these “involuntary memories” show us exactly how much our unconscious brains retain—they’re pretty much hoarders. And the great part is that every time we dive into our pasts, it’s like swimming to the bottom of a pool and bringing back up little puzzle pieces of ourselves that have gone missing. Rest assured everything we need to rebuild our Hero-Selves is down there, partying with all the pens and hair ties we can never find when we need them!

  Our strongest childhood memories tend to center around emotions. Shock. Joy. Mortification. More mortification. The incidents were jarring enough for our brain to put them into long-term memory, rather than dumping them like the average day of “Played with the dog. Watched TV. Had pizza for dinner. Epic Saturday!”

  While I was writing my memoir, I took the time to list the strongest memories from my past I could think of. The first one was when I visited the circus at age three. I was OBSESSED with elephants. We had gone to Sears to buy a special dress for the occasion; it was pink and fluffy and something that I would never put on my own daughter, but at the time I thought it was BEEE-UTIFUL. Unfortunately, halfway through the show, while the elephants were doing their performance thing, I ate my last bit of popcorn, then barfed all over my pink fluffy dress. I remember the shame that flooded over me. And the vivid embarrassment when everyone turned to stare. (I was also upset that the elephants seemed to laugh at me: they lifted their trunks in a very snarky way.)

  When I looked back over my memory list as a whole, I discovered that fear of embarrassment was a common thread. And in probably not that great a coincidence, it continues to be a triggering emotion in my life to this day. I’m paranoid about feeling confident because it might invite mockery over something I didn’t notice about myself, like a weird hair growing under my chin. I’m certain that anyone who comes to my house has X-ray vision and can see the cat hair clumps under the furniture from four rooms away. And it causes a lot of anxiety when I think about showing anyone my creativity. Paralyzing “don’t even bother putting it out there” anxiety.

  Whether who I am causes the emotion to be so impactful, or my experiences as a child built up the strength of that emotion in my mind, I can’t tell. (Which came first, the scared chicken or the neurotic egg?) But the awareness of the trigger helps me understand my behavior better. Also, it’s made me realize I’m not emotionally comfortable with elephants, no matter how friendly they may seem.

  When we’re able to uncover memories that can help answer the question “Why do I do that?” we start to harness the power to change it into “The best way I’ve learned to deal with this…” instead.

  * * *

  In each of the heads, write a strong memory you have from childhood.

  Below each one write the ruling emotion of each memory.

  Write down how these incidents have affected who you are today in good AND bad ways.

  GOOD

  BAD

  Do you notice any common threads? Could any of those threads affect the way you approach creativity?

  * * *

  Being creative is our natural state. So all the blocks that are keeping us from creating were put there artificially. Even an accidental aside by a parent, like “Art really isn’t your strong point, champ” could be a pivotal nudge that steers us off course and silences our creativity. A comment from my brother when I was twelve that “You’re so hairy, you have gorilla arms!” resulted in my wearing long-sleeved shirts in the 104-degree Texas summers for years. When another girl at ballet class said to me, “You should hang out with my grandma, she loves embroidering too!” I dropped my hobby of cross-stitching immediately. (Just to be clear, that chick was terrible and had knock-knees, so retrospectively screw her.) No wonder our creative selves tend to be blocked: the world has done its best to block us!

  We can easily get sucked into focusing on negatives from the past. (Believe me, griping is one of my favorite pastimes.) But the point of digging up all these memories is not to dwell on them, but to put them to work! “What can I DO with this long-lost fact about myself?” This is most fun to apply in areas where we experienced joy around creativity as a child—because that feeling is what we want to channel NOW. Where did we focus our time when we were free to spend it on our own interests? Drawing? Singing? Dancing? Science-ing? Whether it was a hobby or a subject in school we loved, rediscovering an old passion can be a creative jackpot.

  The days I actually cook in my kitchen are few and far between. I consider myself a professional reheater, with a side talent of Postmates. But when I started combing through old photos, I noticed something shocking: cakes. Every birthday, including my own, I would make cakes. Themed cakes. Elaborate cakes. Failed cakes. (Baking powder is NOT baking soda: noted!) I had forgotten that baking was a refuge for me as a kid. The realization was so inspiring, I immediately jumped in the car and drove to my nearest bakery for a dozen cupcakes. All. For. Myself! But, surprise, gluttony is not actually the point of this story.

  Recently I had horrendous writer’s block. (Actually while I was writing this book, which is the ultimate in irony, getting writer’s block while writing a book about releasing creativity.) In a rage, I got out a cookbook and picked out the most elaborate chocolate cake I could find. Five hours later, my mood had flipped from furious to FABULOUS! Whipping that sugar and cream, pouring the batter, glazing the cake, squirting out fifty hand-piped flowers (and twenty more into my mouth) got me out of my head and into my heart in a very awesome way. And then, the result made its way into my tummy. BONUS! After channeling that long-lost passion, I was able to jump back into writing with surprising ease. Sugar rush? Who knows, but I definitely keep baking in my creative-outlet arsenal now. Full-body win!

  * * *

  List ten activities you used to love doing as a kid.

  Now pick one that stands out the most to you.

  Do you enjoy this activity in your life now, as a profession or a hobby? What small step could you take to try it out again in your life? Circle the choices below that stand out as the most fun.

  Now pick one you circled and try it. Reacquaint yourself with something you used to lov
e. What do you have to lose?

  * * *

  What did you want to be when you grew up? Why?

  What was it about the profession that made you dream about it?

  Is there an aspect of that dream you can infuse in what you do for a living now?

  We focus on professions as children not because they will give us status or money but because they seem FUN, pure and simple. No, we don’t have to quit our jobs and become garbage collectors or Olympic gymnasts to find fulfillment as adults, but it’s helpful to analyze the spark of joy and excitement that CREATED that dream and deconstruct it for parts to use now!

  * * *

  Another area that is beneficial to rediscovering our used-to-be selves is thinking about objects that were important to us as kids. Things we collected. Or something we had to cuddle or we melted down and made our parents’ lives hell. (Mine was “lil’ blanket.” I still have a scrap stuffed away in a shoebox. When I touch it I calm down; it’s my PMS Kryptonite.)

  Collecting things is, on the face of it, a bit odd. I mean, why do it? Are we genetically closer to squirrels than I thought? (Does that explain my crazy overbite?) But when you think about it, collections give us a physical way to reflect our inner lives and interests to the outside world. And they connect us physically to where we’ve been in the past. “Remember that terrible road trip where we let the lotto ticket fly out of the window and Mom threatened to put us up for adoption? I bought this collectible spoon at the 7-Eleven right before that! Fun times!”