“How many legs does a dog have if you call the tail a leg? Four. Calling a tail a leg doesn't make it a leg.”
― Abraham Lincoln
Reality is reality. Like a friend of mine says: we can sit and debate about whether the concert was any good, but we can't debate the number of musicians on stage. And yet, I've grown up around many people who have told me, despite my full knowledge otherwise, that there were five musicians on stage, when there clearly were only three. It makes me angry to even write this. When there are enough people around you, telling you whatever lie feels useful to them on any given day, it makes you question your sanity.
And I have questioned my sanity. So many times. But I'm coming to a place in my life where my reality (=reality) is not up for grabs anymore. I see it, I'm in it, it exists. There are facts, there is gravity, there is clarity. And I fucking love it! This is why I am so into science these days--why I'm into astronomy and physics and even math! For a girl who used to be afraid of being sucked up into the sky, even an elementary understanding of gravity is a powerful thing. And by the way, that's how fuzzy reality has been for me at some point.
There is pain in knowing that I can never again trust some people, who I have trusted unconditionally for much of my life. But there is also freedom. It is a heavy load, yes, but I carry it willingly and consciously.
“Last night I wept. I wept because the process by which I have become woman was painful. I wept because I was no longer a child with a child's blind faith. I wept because my eyes were opened to reality....I wept because I could not believe anymore and I love to believe. I can still love passionately without believing. That means I love humanly. I wept because I have lost my pain and I am not yet accustomed to its absence.”
― Anaïs Nin, Henry and June: From "A Journal of Love"--The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin