Enchantment
“Go where it is warm, soft, and gentle. You already know what you love and who you love; it’s not complicated.” - Elizabeth Gilbert
It is the time of year when I am yet again reminded by the world around me that I am, in fact, not a sexy person.
Every Halloween, I watch as women and men of all ages create “costumes” out of singular strips of fabric and a set of cat ears or crowns. There is no need for a backstory when your six-pack abs and rippling muscles tell the world around you just how desirable you are.
I grew up grateful when family members called me “cute” or “handsome.” My grandmother even seemed convinced I was destined to break many women’s hearts while simultaneously selectively forgetting the time she lost me in a Macy’s because I was enamored with colorful, sparkly purses. There were signs, but if my dating life has taught me anything over the years, we as humans love to selectively ignore them to fit the best narrative for us.
But as I grew into adulthood and became a member of gay culture, I quickly realized that there was pressure to be more than I was. Sexy men had equally sexy boyfriends. They were worthy of love. They spent time on boats with lots of hot friends in Speedos. They were seen, heard, and respected.
Every year on Halloween, I traveled with friends to a gay vacation spot in the hopes of finally meeting the man of my dreams. Most years, I contorted myself to try to fit into a costume that would show those around me how hot I was, only to spend the evening in the back corner of a bar wondering why no one noticed me.
The few exceptions were the years I tried to play to my strengths. I was a Gaygusus Unicorn in an adorable pink onesie, and for multiple years, I went as Mighty Mouse. People on the streets remarked how cute I looked, but as I drunkenly stumbled home alone at the end of the night, all I could think was:
“I’d give this all away to finally just be Sexy Mario or Aladdin.”
Recently, I traveled to a retreat led by Elizabeth Gilbert, the Author of “Eat, Pray, Love” and “Big Magic”. In her main workshop, we were asked to write letters from different parts of ourselves include a specific part called our “Sense of Enchantment”.
This is the part of ourselves that appreciates the simple and sweet moments of life instead of constantly chasing the highest of highs. Or, as Liz called it, “that warm vanilla pudding hum of wellness,” and the moments that almost whisper to us, “The world may be crazy, but I don’t mind being here.”
In the letter's structure, we were asked to allow this part of ourselves to share everything it loves about our lives without judgment. I initially wondered how hard it would be for me to access this part of myself, but as my pen flew across the page, I realized just how present my Enchantment was.
Here is a bit of what it shared:
“I love small moments that the old versions of yourself would have missed.”
“I love silent walks in nature when we marvel at butterflies.”
“I love meeting beautiful people and learning their stories.”
“I love synchronicities and all of the moments you couldn’t even begin to explain if you tried.”
and lastly…
“I love love. I am fascinated by it. I love feeling it in every variation and degree. I love it when it lights you up. I love it when it hurts. I love it when it causes you to question everything. And above all else, I love that it is still possible to experience no matter how much darkness you/we have endured.”
After we were asked to share our letters with partners, where we discovered that almost all of us had the same themes. We loved spending time with loved ones and pets, solitude and silence, and nature.
At the end of our sharing, Liz stood on stage and asked us to raise our hands if we needed a million dollars to do anything on our list. Everyone laughed as we all realized the same lesson:
Chasing achievements and a life outside your own only causes you to deny yourself all you already love.
As the quote details above, we are the ones who make this complicated.
It is time that I accept that I am not a sexy person, and I don’t just mean physically.
I may have brief flashes of sexiness, but in general, that isn’t who I am. I am not a visionary; I am simple, pragmatic, and straightforward. I am not an imposing physical beast; I am compact, fast, and athletic, with the flexibility of a 94-year-old grandmother. And when it comes to costumes, the greatest serves of my life have not been when I attempted to be desirable but instead leaned into the parts of myself that had yet to be seen.
Denying the truth about how I show up in this world has been exhausting.
I do not have a sexy life, not just because I do not qualify for one by the standards of culture, but because I have carefully and selectively made choices throughout my life to avoid one.
I love to travel but am far more happy in the safety and warmth of my own home. I would rather spend the day reading a book than on a boat with a wedgie from a Speedo. I love to dance freely but would prefer to do so before 9pm. I love the feeling of being tipsy, but I would rather wake up the next day without voices in my head telling me that I am not enough.
Every time I visit my sister, she apologizes that we aren’t going out to eat every night at fancy restaurants or to sip cocktails in cute bars. But each time, I remark that I am exactly where I want to be: on the couch, sitting next to my sibling, watching my niece as she puts on random wigs and sings on top of a ladder.
I have spent a lifetime wishing I was different. I wanted to be taller, more masculine, and have a different eye color. I debated whether or not to get my body physically altered to fit this narrative and briefly considered getting fangs surgically installed in my mouth. I knew they wouldn’t be practical, but the idea that they would look cool was enough to intrigue me.
My point is that my life may not be some social media fantasy storybook, but it is my own.
When I look inside of myself instead of judging my life through the lens of how the outside world may perceive it, I am reminded over and over again of one simple truth:
It may not be sexy, but it sure is enchanting.
With Love,
Clayton