Hi, I know. It’s been two weeks, I apologize, but I can explain myself.
First, well, two weeks ago, I was on a writing retreat, and last week was Easter. It didn’t leave me much time to write, but here I am today, sending you something that I hope will make up for those past two weeks when I wasn’t there.
I wanted to take a moment to thank you for supporting my writing and for being there. I appreciate the emails I receive after every newsletter and the DMs you sometimes send me.
As usual, just a reminder. If you like what I write and think someone can benefit from my writing, please share my newsletter.
Break’s over! Time for the main program.
This week's newsletter was supposed to be about my impostor syndrome. I’ve been reading Emma Healey’s excellent Best Young Woman Job Book lately. I won’t lie. Reading about how Healey’s published her first poetry collection at 22 made me feel…inadequate? Who am I to even call myself a writer? I’ve published some articles, but essays? Poetry? A work of fiction? Not yet. Even when given the opportunity, I didn’t. Instead, I hide behind my mental health and being tired as an excuse not to write fiction/essays.
But this is not about my impostor syndrome and my writing capabilities. No, I’m keeping this for another time.
This newsletter is about memories—the memories hiding in plain sight, the ones that you never seem to forget. The memories tend to become foggy as if they were dreams until something unleashes them back.
In 2018, after my breakup, I turned to what I loved the most—writing, yes, and music. And through music, I found Big Thief. I spent my days listening to Big Thief, delving into their songs, lying on my bed, and reading the lyrics of every piece. From Paul to Masterpiece, Adrienne Lenker’s voice felt like an object I could hold for comfort, something stable in an unstable life. The songs were a soundtrack to a life I was finally getting a grasp on, one that felt freer.
You can imagine me, 27 years old, trying to find my footing in the world as a single woman and mostly trying to get to know who I was as an adult. I ended up finding this through Big Thief. I was a young woman who enjoyed sad songs, read a lot and walked around. I enjoyed looking at every little detail. I abandoned myself to every new adventure I could get in.
It’s in Pretty Things that I found solace. Lenker describes the aftermath of a sexual encounter with “Matthew,” a generic name for a faceless man. The acoustic quality of the song makes it just more profound. Lenker continues by describing her body.
There is a meeting in my thighs
Where in thunder and lightning
Men are baptized in their anger and fighting
Their deceit and lies
I've got lips like sugar, lips like sugar
She describes what happened, how sex with Matthew was raw, hard, brutal, and how he felt terrible about it. She finally ends with the chorus, hitting even harder.
Don't take me for a fool
There's a woman inside of me
There's one inside of you, too
And she don't always do pretty things
When I listen to Pretty Things, Lenker’s voice disappears in my head. I hear myself reciting the lyrics like a rosary, again and again. It became my Hail Mary. I could have written this song; I could have described the same thing as her. I wanted to keep a body warm against mine. I wanted to reassure the person of my affection. No, it doesn’t hurt. No, it’s ok. I’m here for you; I’m enjoying it until they leave me behind and go for another.
But Big Thief isn’t only about Pretty Things. It’s also about Real Love.
Big Thief sang Real Love on Monday night at L’Olympia, and my breath got cut short.
I missed their last Montréal show because I was getting surgery in October and didn’t know when exactly. I ended up having surgery a couple of days after. But this time around, I was there. In the crowd. Next to two of my closest friends. I was happy; I was singing every song. I was right where I needed to be that night. And Real Love started playing.
Real Love is a punch to the guts. A reminder that I once believed that Real Love makes your lungs black. Real love is a heart attack. And I felt this through and through, even single. Real love should be highly passionate, right? Real love should hurt you down to your core? Real love should be intense fights for passionate making up. It should be objects thrown at walls. It should be deep kisses at night. It should be not knowing on what feet you are dancing. And this was how I felt for the longest time. After my long-term relationship, I ended up with someone who played mind games with me for a year. It ended with a slap on the face - my face. After him, there was a couple of casual dating until I met this person in May 2020 who made me feel good about myself. I remember the nonstop texting and the songs we exchanged. I remember him driving to my home in 15 minutes just to see me - we lived in entirely opposite neighbourhoods. It should have taken the double time. I remember the burn, the hurt, the words, the disappearance, the inadequacy I felt after. It didn’t last long, but it hurts longer.
Real Love- Real Love makes your lungs black.
As Adrienne Lenker was singing, I started tapping on my chest. Feeling the past memories coming, crawling through the fog, becoming absolute. I bruised myself a bit. The pain isn’t as bad as the pain from those memories. The pain I felt of being with people who used me, who hurt me, and who thought they had power over me. The memories gushed through my body, but they didn’t scare me. They are vivid. They exist but aren’t painful anymore.
Big Thief was on tour for their newest album, Dragon New Warm Mountain I Believe In You. They didn’t sing the songs that I used to listen to on repeat when I discovered who I was. Ok, they sang some of them, but not all of them. No. They went on with their new catalogue, and it was good.
When Adrienne Lenker started to sing Simulation Swarm, a single from their new album, tears filled my eyes.
With a warm gush, now I wanna touch
Like we never could before
I'd fly to you tomorrow, I'm not fighting in this war
I wanna drop my arms and take your arms
And walk you to the shore
I'd fly to you tomorrow, I'm not fighting in this war
I wanna drop my arms and take your arms
I’m not fighting this war anymore. I’ve had enough of building shields to protect myself from those past memories. I’m at peace. I want to fly to my past self and walk her to the shore.
Thank you for reading this weird essay on the show I went to on Monday. But it unleashed so much, that I felt it meant something.
If you don’t know Big Thief, I hope this will make you appreciate them. Maybe you’ll turn into a fan. I know I’m one very devoted fan. Until then, please share if you like! I’m trying to get to 100 subscribers and I’d love to get them by the end of May!
I’m always open to your comments, questions, and suggestions. So hit me up with an email!
On se parle la semaine prochaine,
-xo
Y.