In our bubbles
/I live in Halifax, Nova Scotia. We had been fortunate enough to have a low number of COVID infections, especially in comparison to the rest of North America, and life had gotten back to a semblance of normalcy in the summer. Unfortunately, cases are back on the rise; it’s still not as bad as it is in the States or even other places in Canada, but we’re back to smaller gathering limits and increased restrictions on businesses. The Atlantic Provinces had an agreement in place to lift the 14 day self-isolation requirement for inter-provincial travel as long as it was entirely within the region, but that “bubble” has popped for now. It doesn’t seem likely that I’ll be going to New Brunswick for Christmas this year; it’s disappointing but it’s not really anything in my own control.
Lately I’ve been thinking about how I’ve mostly been inside my own bubble for the last little while. I go into the office a few times a week, but don’t really leave my cubicle that often. I chat with my colleagues on the other end of the office when I go over there to check my department’s mailbox, but I try not to leave my desk for the sake of leaving or socializing. It’s never really come easy to me, even with practice. I used to try to fight this, but I’ve come to realize this is who I am.
I try to limit the number of times I leave the apartment; it’s not so much out of a fear of the coronavirus as a general inertia. Going out generally takes more effort than I’m willing to make, unless I absolutely need or want to. If my brain would let me, I would put the time I save from fewer bus commutes and errand runs into other projects, or even just keeping the apartment clean. Most of the time I just can’t seem to get started, let alone getting to the point where I can lose myself in the work. I still have pictures of my friend from a shoot we did over a year ago that I need to edit, and SNL and SCTV episode reviews to write. Executive dysfunction sucks.
Social media’s been a big help during the last year, especially in terms of connecting with other queer and trans folk, but it too feels like we’re all just waving and talking to each other from our individual bubbles. Sometimes we see or hear each other, sometimes we don’t. When I don’t have a lot of energy to do much else, it’s nice to have the glimpses into other people’s lives, but I’m looking forward to the time when I can be in the same physical space with people. As affirming as writing about my transition and posting selfies regularly is, I haven’t really had the opportunity to spend time as myself in the physical presence of my friends.
How much different would my coming out as trans have been in another year, one where we didn’t all have to cocoon in our safe zones? In a way, being forced to stay inside and not being forced to play-act my masculinity (which was more shutting down a lot of myself than anything) for my daily routine gave me more time to play around and figure myself out. By the time I was going back into the office in July, I knew for sure that I didn’t want to force myself into the men’s clothing I was still wearing in public life much longer.
I’m also thinking about the concept of touch-starvation quite a bit, and have been wondering to what extent that affects me. Maybe I just need to spend more time in the world with other people once everything opens up again.
