Hey,
Something happened at my TEDx Asbury Park talk a few weeks ago.
Before the actual event, we did a quick run through of the whole program and I learned that the whole cast (all the speakers) would go back on stage at the end and sing a musical number about Joy with a group of performers. The idea was that we would be holding hands, clapping and singing lyrics like, “This joy I have, the world didn’t give it to me. The world didn’t give it, the world can’t take it away.” It was a beautiful song and they had a wonderful lead singer. And forgive me if this is right up your alley but for me doing this type of thing on stage is the equivalent of dying a thousand deaths. I can do my thing anywhere, no problem. But singing and holding hands?
I was like…Yeah…no. I don’t fucking think so.
I waited until after the run through and explained that I wouldn’t be participating in the finale. My Ted point person kind of laughed and was like, Everybody’s doing it! Even so-and-so celebrity chef! I was very nice about it all, but I didn’t budge from my position. I’m not doing it. No way. No how. No chance. Not my jam. And honestly? I felt proud of myself for standing up for my inner child.
I gave my talk, it went great. And so I sat in the audience to watch the second set of speakers.
Out came Edafe Okporo, author of the upcoming book Asylum. Edafe is a Nigerian refugee. He spoke about feeling Othered. Nigeria had criminalized homosexuality with up to 14 years imprisonment…Edafe was outed, beaten and humiliated. He came to the US as a refugee. He spoke about being othered in Nigeria because he was a gay man…being othered in America because he was a refugee…being othered in the black community because he’s African…being othered in the LGBTQ community because he’s a refugee. It was one of the most painful yet beautiful and inspiring talks about belonging and finding home that I’d ever heard.
But I’m not just sharing this because he is incredible (which he is!).
This talk penetrated me viscerally in the moment. I realized that the reason I didn’t want to do the group activity was I was Othering myself before someone else had a chance to do it. I also grew up Othered as an Iranian immigrant. My family would get chased by a group of teenagers with sticks when we first moved to America. I was othered for being Muslim. Even when I was at the height of my career, I was othered by Gawker for being successful. And not just Gawker, Jane Pratt, my hero at the time publicly made a statement about how she was younger than me when she became Editor-in-Chief of Sassy at 24 because some news outlet said I was the youngest ever Editor-in-Chief. Other Sassy Editors went on record for a book about Sassy’s history saying how desperate I was to work there in college (true) and made me sound like a big dork. (True, yes. I was. But publicly? In a book? Who does that?) I’d been othered my whole life – not as horrifically as Edafe, but it was a wounding for me. And by avoiding new group settings, I was othering myself before anyone else had a chance to do it. As the following speakers came on, honestly? I didn’t hear a word they said. I was just replaying the different strategies I’d come up with to avoid feeling Othered. It was truly a revelation. I told myself, “Atoosa, next time, you’ll make a different decision. A braver decision.”
Just then one of the Ted people found me in the audience to tell me it was time for the song performance. She hadn’t gotten the memo that I was a hard no. In that moment, I realized this is next time. I got my opportunity to make a different decision. And I went. I went.
I sang the song. Held hands. Awkwardly clapped. The whole nine yards.
Was I horrified? Hmm…well….it wasn’t my most comfortable experience. But I stuck my proverbial paw out from under the couch. I became part of the group and took several big steps outside my comfort zone. And most importantly, I felt so proud that I course-corrected in the moment. I credit meditation with my ability to be present enough to really hear Edafe’s powerful message and gear shift in real time. That felt big for me. I wouldn’t have been able to do that just six months ago.
And the progress doesn’t end in Asbury Park!
Yesterday, as you may know, Planned Parenthood helped organize Bans Off Our Bodies rallies all over the country to protest the Supreme Court leak. None of my friends were available to attend with me…and I had actually never attended a rally ever….and well…we’ve already established how I feel about groups where I don’t know anyone. Add to that, I’m not a yeller or hooting and hollering type. I was feeling all the feels I felt at the TEDx conference. But I did a 40-minute meditation, put on my favorite new jeans and reminded myself I could always leave if it was too uncomfortable.
And off I went to the rally!
I bee-lined all the way to the back and stood on my own. I told a woman next to me I had never been to a rally before and I was feeling a little anxious. The lovely organizer of the event, poetically named Joy (I swear! I couldn’t make that up!), came over and gave me a very warm welcome and draped a fun pink necklace around me. Another person came and gave me bubbles. And…I blew bubbles! That felt like something I could do. And little by little, I started woo-ing…maybe not as loud as the others. But slowly I melted and relaxed into belonging and before I knew it, it was 2pm and the protest was over. I did it and I even made a new kick-ass friend (Hi Jennifer!) in the process! We chatted about my opinion about the importance of overcoming shame to tell our abortion stories so that our side comes out of the shadows. Women who exercise their right to choose don’t belong in the shadows. And neither do I. Neither do I.
Thank you for co-creating this space of belonging with me. One day, we will have more comments in the comment section!!!! I know it!! But as the girl who was tucked in at the back of the rally yesterday, I also understand that it can be scary to put your voice out there. But still, I wonder - where do you feel the most belonging? Leave a comment!
Whether you comment or not, I’m here for you, 24/7, as always at atoosa@atoosa.com.
xo, atoosa
Soundtrack of my 🤍🖤❤️:
I Got Pushed Way Out Of My Comfort Zone