Years ago, Lindsey brought up how hard it is to read about their own experiences in the stigmatizing and pathologizing language that the DSM provides. Lindsey experiences ‘dermatillomania’ or ‘skin picking’, and there is very little kind or dignifying information available about this experience. We wondered if we could create something better. It took a while to get this ball rolling, but here we are, and we want to invite anyone with shared experience of this or ‘trichotillomania’ / ‘hair pulling’ to join us in this project.
Light writing on a dark green background says “Community conversation about dermatillomania / skin picking & trichotillomania / hair pulling. June 24, 2023 | 1-2:30 pm MST | Zoom. Facilitated by Tiffany Sostar and Lindsey Boyes” Below, inside a purple staticky circle, says, “Troubling the boundary between the self and the world”
On June 24, 2023, we will be hosting an initial community conversation for people who experience skin picking / ‘dermatillomania’ or hair pulling / ‘trichotillomania’ and who want to talk about these experiences in ways that name and challenge stigma and that expand beyond the pathologizing and limited definitions of the DSM.
The reason we want to host this conversation and create a collective document that takes this conversation forward is that the stigma associated with these experiences is intense, and the language used to describe people who have these experiences is often demeaning and pathologizing. There is little meaningful awareness about these experiences, and because skin and hair are often so visible, people can face judgement and intrusive questions from many directions. These experiences can also be difficult to discuss because of the (valid!) fear of judgement and the shame that can accumulate after years of experiencing the effects of stigma and lack of awareness.
We hope that this conversation will create a space to share community stories in an honouring and dignifying way – to reclaim some ‘storytelling rights’ from the overwhelming power of silence and stigma. That this conversation will be an act of resistance and care.
“Resistance is an everyday act. The work of excavating every tiny artifact of the oppressor that lives in you. Your call to be a balm to every self-inflicted wound is the way movements are birthed.”
We also hope that this conversation will result in a collective document that can be shared, that can be a balm that comes from the insider knowledge of community members who know that this experience is more than just pathology, and who know how to respond in skillful and meaningful ways.
This conversation will be facilitated by myself and Lindsey. We invite any community members who have lived experience to join us. The conversation will be recorded and transcribed, but the recording and transcription will not be shared publicly. Participants will be able to choose how (and if) their contributions are included in the final collective document, and how (and if) they are credited by name, by pseudonym, or anonymously.
February can be a hard month for folks who have had a romantic relationship end.
The Next Chapter is a four-week narrative therapy group designed for folks who are figuring out what comes next after a major relationship upheaval.
Space is limited to 6 participants, and all meetings will be held on Zoom, Saturdays from 10:30-12 pm Mountain Time. This is a queer, trans, disability, and polyamory welcoming group.
The cost is $160 ($40 per 90-minute session). Register by email.
Week 1 – Introduction: Where we are and how we got here. This week will include introducing ourselves, getting to know each other, and talking about our ideas of self and relationship – what it means to be a good or successful person and how our experiences in relationships, including when relationships end, influence how we experience ourselves.
Week 2 – Character study: Who we are and what matters to us This week we will be talking about what matters to us in relationships, and what it is about ourselves that we value, what might have become obscured or not seen in the relationship that has ended, what we want the people around us to see and know about us.
Week 3 – Plot points: Mapping our way forward after a relationship ends This week will be a mapping exercise! We’ll use the ‘migration of identity’ narrative therapy practice to figure out where we want to go next.
Week 4 – Conclusion: Skills we’re taking into our next chapter In addition to naming the skills and hopes we’re taking forward, this week will include an opportunity to reflect back to each other what is moving and meaningful in the stories we’ve learned about each other (in narrative therapy terms, a definitional ceremony).
The conversation on December 11 was so lovely. It felt good to be in community, speaking about how we try to take care of trans and non-binary people in our lives (for many of us, that includes our own selves).
One participant wrote afterward and said, “it was the most generative convo I have had in such a while and felt so good to be apart of <3!!”
I received the transcript back from Shara (they are always such an important part of this work!) and have started pulling out themes and quotes to get started on the collective document.
The thing I’ve been thinking about most often since is how important relationships are in this work:
Our relationships with ourselves (our own experience of gender, our own learning and unlearning of gender expectations and the gender binary, our own safety as we decide whether to speak up or not in various contexts)
Our relationships with trans and non-binary community (our families, our partners, our friends, our communities, the people we don’t know but with whom we still want to be in solidarity, the safety of those people as we decide whether to speak up or not in various contexts and how we choose to speak when we do, the legacy of trans and non-binary advocacy we join when we act in solidarity)
Our relationships with people who may be acting in alignment with gender essentialism, cisnormativity, or even transphobia (these may also be our families, our partners, our friends and communities!)
And even our relationships with ideas and ideals, values and hopes, curiosities and possibilities.
The original topic was “how we avoid misgendering others”, and I had imagined a conversation about how we’ve unlearned our own cisnormative habits and the skills and strategies we’ve developed for our own internal relationship with gender and gendering. I’d like to talk more about that, still, but in the conversation on the 11th we ended up speaking more about how we respond when we witness misgendering, which is a related (but also very different) thing.
We talked quite a bit about the barriers that get in the way of acting in solidarity, and part of this conversation was bringing some nuance to the idea of what ‘acting in solidarity’ can mean. It is not a binary or a single correct answer – there are always a variety of actions available, and when we determine which action we take, there are many relevant factors. We are always responding based on our position in the specific context, which means thinking about things like – are we the person being misgendered, or are we witnessing someone else being misgendered? what is our relationship with the person engaged in misgendering? what do we know of their values and hopes – if they are someone who cares about not misgendering, then correcting them is almost always the right call, but if they are someone who will become angry, we have to consider what the fall-out or backlash will be, and whether that will compromise our or someone else’s safety. In those instances, other actions, like texting to check in with someone, or finding something affirming to do later, might be the better option. These can be uncomfortable calculations, because it can feel like failure, and I hope that one generative outcome of this work is that we find ways to speak about our desires to be in solidarity and to avoid misgendering and to respond to misgendering with compassion and rigor.
I’m going to get started on the collective document soon, and will be sharing the draft here.
If you would like to contribute, there are many ways you can do this!
I’ve created a little google form for people to contribute asynchronously. You can find that here.
We’re also going to have a follow-up conversation in January, and I’ll share that date once it’s set.
You can also email your thoughts to me, or comment here.
The questions in the form are:
Is there a particular person you are making this effort on behalf of?
What’s important about getting people’s pronouns, names, and gender right?
How did you learn to care about avoiding misgendering?
Who knows that you care about this? (Sometimes we can feel isolated in our efforts, and one goal of this project is to make visible the community around us and the legacy of solidarity that we are part of when we take care in this way.)
How do you practice getting people’s pronouns, names, and gender right? (This can include practices you use for yourself, too! When we avoid misgendering, that includes our own precious trans and non-binary selves.)
What practices do you have for when you get it wrong?
What difference have these acts of care (both for getting it right and responding when you get it wrong) made in your life or the lives of others?
What would you want others to know about avoiding misgendering?
I’ll be hosting a community conversation, along with my excellent pal Zan, on the topic of how we are trying to avoid misgendering (and why, and what difference it makes).
There is so much hostility directed towards trans and gender diverse communities right now, and the actions we take to care for, welcome, affirm, and acknowledge trans folks can often feel small and invisible in the face of so much hostility. But these actions are not small, and our hope is that this conversation will make them more visible, and that by sharing these stories, we can take a stand, together, against transphobia, and alongside trans community members.
This conversation is open to anyone, of any gender, who wants to talk about how they are trying to avoid misgendering.
This conversation will be taking place on December 11 from 3-4:30 pm mountain time (December 12 from 8:30-10 am Adelaide time). You can register for the conversation here.
We will record and transcribe this conversation, and collect the stories into a collective document (probably a zine!) to share with participants and community members, and on the Dulwich Centre’s website as part of this project.
Stories will be anonymized if you prefer, and the transcription will be shared back with conversation participants but will not be shared publicly.
It’s been a minute since I hosted a conversation like this, and I’m really excited for it. But I also want to acknowledge that this conversation is in response to tragedy and trauma. The actions we take to stand with trans and non-binary folks can be life-saving. The effects of transphobia, homophobia, and refusing to support trans and non-binary folks are horrific.
I want to make something that makes care visible. And I want to be in a space where care is visible. It matters that we make this effort.
This is a post about struggling and reaching out and being met with care. I’m writing it up because sometimes these moments of collective care pass quickly, and I want to document this. Not only to remember that I, personally and specifically, was met with so much wisdom and care but also to share some of the wisdom with anyone else finding themselves in a tough spot. Maybe there is something here that will help you. Maybe you will add to this list of ideas. Maybe you will send it to someone else who needs it.
Sometimes it is nice to know that even in the hard moments, even when we are really struggling, out there in the world there are other people who have also struggled and who have gotten through. There are a few things that I hold onto when I am at my lowest, and this is one of them – no matter what is happening, someone, somewhere, at some point, has struggled like this. No matter what is happening and no matter how hard it is, I am not truly alone in it. There is a way through. People have made their way through. Maybe that means I can get through, too.
Last month, in the week after Father’s Day, I had a couple of really tough days*.
In the middle of the worst of it, when I couldn’t get my body to calm, and my chest hurt and my head hurt and I couldn’t catch my breath, I came to facebook and posted. I said, Alright pals, I had some Hard Emotions and now my chest hurts and my head hurts and I can’t make it stop. Hit me with your best tools for soothing that inner “something is hurting me and I can’t make it stop” thing.
My community met me with care.
Here is an expanded list of the tools people shared (anonymized and consolidated):
Jump into the shower (this was shared by lots of folks, and it is one thing that I did for myself that day!)
Tap the bone behind your ear
Put heat or cool on the back of your neck
Use white noise, like ambient starship or forest noises or rain
Remember that you will fuck up, like we all do, but you get up and keep trying and that’s all we can ask. You are already making a personalized microverse around you of a just and right and kind and soft world.
A purring kitty. Belly rubs.
Connection with someone – coffee, walk, dinner… something in person
Connect with a therapist
Listen to a soundtrack or playlist that has been created for these times, maybe something you can sing along to, or something that brings specific feelings or memories
Making jam
Asking someone to hold you close and tight
Going for a walk (with yourself, a person, or a furbeast)
Videos! Many folks suggested this, and the suggestions included otter videos, videos of tiny edible food being made on tiny functional kitchen sets, the f*ck that meditation video, puppies vs kittens, Great British Baking Show or Nailed It (season 1 episode 6 for cry-laughing),
Havening or TRE. (These are both somatic or psychosensory therapies. Here is some info on havening and here is some info on TRE.)
Know that it is useful/helpful to know that you are doing badly. Seeing the hardness is useful.
Stop what feels ‘important’ because your own self deserves to be ‘most important’ right now
Make some tea
Light a candle and wrap yourself in a blanket and spend some time with your little self. Have a conversation asking what you can do to help them feel safe and loved.
Roll up in a blanket like a burrito and lay on your stomach on the floor
Video games, because you can control those and empower yourself
Cosplay (this one reminded me of the Gloom Fairy costumes I used to put on when things were very bad)
Write it down and turn it into a poem. Then look through your photos and find one that makes, and if not, take one that could match.
Let go in a temporary way if you’re not ready to let go all the way. Give yourself permission to return to the feelings as needed.
Going under your bed
Saying yes to the hurt, not to the hurting. As in: yes, hurt is visiting. Then host it for a little while. What sort of tea does this hurt like to drink? Is it cold? Would a shower or blanket help? Remember that you are bigger than the hurt. You are the home it is visiting, and there are lots of tools within you to make it as cozy as possible for its stay within you. (Someone else responded to this wisdom by sharing this quote – “You need to try to master the ability to feel sad without actually being sad.” Mingyur Rinpoche)
Impulse buy something (with a note that the person who shared this isn’t always happy with this strategy – I appreciate being able to share the ‘less preferable’ strategies as well, because sometimes that’s what’s available!)
Message a close friend and ask why they are your friend
Talk with someone who will listen and care without trying to solve the issue
Downward dog or child’s pose, with as much intentional breath as possible
And there was a whole category of strategies related to ‘releasing the energy’. Some ideas for releasing that energy included:
walking
connecting with someone else
screaming
crying (maybe in the shower)
jumping
shaking your body
breaking something that can be broken
writhing
grabbing some clay and smashing it (it is the earth and can hold all the feels, be destroyed and come back)
feeling something beneath you and knowing that what is solid can hold you and when you are ready you will hold onto yourself again
keening (a low sound with each exhale through loosely pursed lips, like the sound of the wind through a partially open window, or blowing over the top of a pop bottle, changing the pitch up and down as the emotions move through)
Is there anything you would add to this list?
Has anything on this list been helpful to you in the past?
For myself, I got into the shower and cried a lot while listening to Regina Spektor very loud on my phone. It helped.
Would you like to see this list turned into a zine? I was thinking about making a few more illustrations and printing it, and then I could mail it out to folks who want it. But even if it never gets to paper, it is a great list to have access to. I am thankful.
* This post isn’t about those tough days, but patrons got that little story. You can support my patreon here.
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