Listen to Natahna read Big Feels 7.4 here👇🏻
When I was nine years old, Faith Hill ruined my chance at becoming a successful songwriter.
I remember the moment clearly enough: I was at the local Wal-Mart in North Battleford, SK. It was the holiday season. I was walking around looking at my favourite sections (toys, makeup, clothes, the card aisle) while we waited for a prescription to be filled when I heard the damning lyrics of Faith’s 1999 release, “Breathe”:
'Cause I can feel you breathe
It's washing over me
And suddenly, I'm melting into you
There's nothing left to prove
Baby, all we need is just to be
Caught up in the touch
Slow and steady rush
Baby, isn't that the way that love's supposed to be?
I can feel you breathe
Just breathe
My heart dropped to my stomach, “Fuck. Fucking hell.”
Or rather, as the evangelical child that I was, “Shoot. Shoot, shoot, shoot.”
I had recently started dabbling in the art of songwriting. My latest hit?? A song also entitled BREATHE. You cannot make this stuff up. ;)
This must have been the first time that I had the distinct feeling of missing my chance; having my dinner plate whooshed out of sight before I had even taken a bite. Devastating.
Of course, the similarities between our two songs were slim, at best (hang tight while I rummage through my old diaries to find the original lyrics); but still, I wasn’t an idiot. I knew big music execs weren’t going to put out two fucking songs about breathing in the same fucking year. GOD. It was over, kaput, finito.
It’s a feeling that has become familiar: that I am showing up to an idea, a mindset, a sense of self-worth, a sexuality, too late.
When I was in my early twenties I went to Europe with my sister. In Venice, our hostel was on a little island that we had to take a water taxi to and from. I forget what happened the day we were meant to go on to our next destination. Maybe the water taxi didn’t come on time, maybe we took the wrong one. I remember being on the boat and realizing that we were likely going to miss our train. The boat pulled up to the station, docked. We swung our backpacks the size of small men over our shoulders, and ran, flat out, to our train. The relief! Oh my god, the relief when we saw the train there…. and the absolutely gut punch when it pulled away, my hand just grazing the door handle. I remember the cold of the metal; the speed at which it whooshed away.
I’ve been feeling this lately–like I’m showing up too late to everything, like I missed the train or Faith Hill is at it again. I’ve been feeling embarrassed, honestly. And, look, I get it: embarrassment is a symptom of shame, and none of us are supposed to feel shame anymore in a post-Brené Brown world. But I do feel embarrassed. I do feel shame. I haven’t figured out how to actually board the train on time and, at this point, I’m starting to wonder if I ever will.
I borrowed a book from the library (my day job) this week, Wire Your Brain for Confidence by Louisa Jewell. The bleakest book a person can borrow on the cusp of a new year, but here we are. At present, I haven’t read a single phrase, but I’m hoping it helps (lol, yolo, *hang loose hand gesture*).
I know there is a version of this Big Feels where I’m like “BUT ACTUALLY THE GREAT THING ABOUT MISSING THE TRAIN IS THAT YOU GET MORE TIME TO BE WITH YOUR SISTER IN A REALLY COOL CITY AND ISN’T THAT A METAPHOR WE CAN ALL GET BEHIND,” and like, yea, of course, duh. But also, I think sometimes it’s okay to feel a little shit. I’m sorry Brené, but maybe it’s even okay to indulge in a little embarrassment. I don’t expect to feel like an Unconfident Loser Failure forever. I might even be feeling pretty cool as soon as tomorrow; the world is my oyster and it’s tasty when smoked. ← (Literally just let me have that one)
Anyways, I’m going to leave you with these incredible lyrics that I would have let Faith Hill use if she had just asked.
Breathe in, breathe out, It’s okay, you’ll live Breath in, breathe out (get louder) You’ll be fine in the morning; Just breathe (hold), oh, just breathe Yah, yah
See full lyrics below:
Talk soon,
Natahna
The Recommends: The Umaga Siryal candle by Luho Candle Co. Thank you to my darling Graham for this impeccable gift. As my nesting partner just said when he walked into my room/office, “Oh my god what is this I want to be smelling this for the rest of my life!”
Big Feels on Faith Hill Beating Me to the Punch
“Shoot. Shoot, shoot, shoot.” 😂 I laughed too hard at that (and the backpack size comment).
You, my dear, are right on time 😘 But yes, you have full permission to feel a little embarrassed and a little shitty ❤️