This week, LMP welcomes Kit De Contreras into our arms!
Kit was my first friend in Atlanta. I met her at her housewarming/New Year’s Eve party1 in 2017, and we have been steady friends ever since. Over the years, we have spent much quality time together – lunching, partying, creating, celebrating, gossiping, aerial silk-ing, rafting, zip-lining – and through this quality time, we have seen each other grow.
Every time I hang out with Kit, I leave energized and inspired – which is rare for an introvert who experiences most hangouts as energetic drains. But Kit truly loves and believes in me, she listens to me with her whole heart, she cheers me on in all of my pursuits, and she even takes part in my assortment of adventurous shenanigans.
Kit has been a sweet companion to me in the past few years that I have known her, and I’ve come to realize that when I think of Kit, above all, I think of how grateful I am to have her in my life.
Until last year, gratitude had always been something that I dismissed. I don’t think I was actively ungrateful, I just wasn’t always conscious of how little I need and how much I appreciate who and what I have to support me.
For the past few years, though, I invested a lot of time into people who did not reciprocate my efforts and into environments where I was not as appreciated as I should have been. I kept finding reasons in each of these situations that I was being too critical or too insensitive to the others’ needs, and the “solution” I kept coming to was to be more appreciative that I was even in the picture.
But this strategy was flawed and not sustainable. It was a negative feedback loop where I consistently devoted my energy to putting my needs and interests below the people that I was desperately trying to attach myself to without matched energetic replenishment in return. The math is simple: in all circumstances, this strategy eventually burned me out.
When I’m burned out, I exit stage-left and head straight to crafty. I binge on metaphorical cheese cubes (which manifests as excessive sleep, random arts and crafts, and often as actual cheese), and then I storm out the stage door and hibernate until I feel like I can audition for another show.2
Usually this pivoting and redirection of energy leads me down a road more exciting and leaves me feeling more in tune with myself. But it seemed like everywhere I turned last year, I kept getting shoved in smaller and smaller boxes, and in each box, I felt more and more neglected and less and less known; as my paychecks and skillsets grew, I felt my autonomy drift, and I didn’t particularly like any of the paths that were presented to me; as I became closer to people I admired, they pushed me further away. These encounters were all very confusing, and some of the people I most tried to confide in about my worries simply waved them off with lazy assurances that my financial success was measurable and that I was OK emotionally, I just needed to be more open and mature.
After a year and a half of trying to force myself into various misshapen boxes, I felt largely rejected and misunderstood. But an unexpected companion kept me going – and growing – throughout all of this pressure, doubt, and emotional upheaval and ultimately helped me launch Let Me Play. This unexpected companion was gratitude.
I grew up with people-pleasing Southern hospitality, so expressions of thanks roll off my tongue without much thought. Thanksgiving has also been my favorite holiday for quite some time, so I thought I had an understanding of the sentiment. But this new gratitude that I found was bigger than surface level pleasantries, and it was even bigger than mashed potatoes – it was deeper and more meaningful, and it made my heart ache in the best way, so I knew it came from a place of love.
This gratitude presented itself to me in many ways:
As rainbows, bringing small moments of surprise and wonder and joy
As an owl and a cat, who graced me with their presence while I was deep in my feels on emotional evening walks
As hugs, from people I hadn’t seen in ages and people I’d never touched
As heartfelt music, discovered, shared, and danced to
As quality time, spent intentionally and appreciatively
As meals, shared with family and friends, old and new, across the world
As surprises, unexpected, as they should be
As grateful tears, opening my birthday present from my family after having been rejected by a friend.
As a chocolate cupcake and a tiny, homegrown apple on a paper plate, given to me by a coworker on one of my many last days of work.
As encouragement, when I was scared to complete the skills for my SCUBA checkout dives, to teach, and to compete in Irish Dance.
As adventure, rekindling my play in the jungle and over seas
As shelter, provided by myself, friends, and strangers &
As a gifted silver pendant, inscribed with a “tree of gratitude”
Each of these manifestations of gratitude made my heart ache and sharpened my acuity towards graciousness. It may be a case of frequency illusion or of confirmation bias, but ever since I became attuned to gratitude, I tend to see reminders of it everywhere, and I have become more and more appreciative of smaller and smaller things.
In this moment, these are the things I am most grateful for:
The autonomy to live independently and authentically as myself
The safety in confidence among my friends and peers
The open, reciprocated expression of love in speech, action, & intent
The strong pull towards new projects, adventures, & friends &
The capacity to care, to create, to learn, & to grow
I have so much to be grateful for, and this list only scratches the surface. The more that I focus on gratitude, the warmer and more open I feel and the more love and warmth and openness I can give back into the world.
I’m not sure why my heart opened up to all of this gratitude all of a sudden. Maybe it was a surprise visit from Celebi, maybe it was the result of a heart transplant that I have no memory of, or maybe it was because special people like Kit have welcomed me, just as I am, into their lives with loving arms.
Whatever the reason, I am grateful to be on the path that I am forging for myself, and I am eternally grateful for those who choose to walk beside me.
You can support Kit’s art on Instagram @kit.astro.fee & you can trot along with Meko on Instagram @meko.and.mae
All music for the podcast lovingly created by Ian T. Jones.
The first of many epic parties at the De Contreras’ home, I might add.
I hope that metaphor makes sense. I am only a “wanna-be” theatre-kid, after all.
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