Why I Started Wearing a Bra: A COVID-19 Tale

It’s day 25 on the alien planet. I counted. 25 days since DC Public Schools announced their temporary closure. 25 Days since I stopped living in denial about the reality of COVID-19. As long as I had work to get up and go to everyday, I could keep telling myself that my world was still normal. Sure, COVID had put China on lock down over a month prior–as an online ESL teacher, I felt I was more aware of this than others, given that I was seeing first hand how the lock down was affecting my own students during each of our classes together. Sure, COVID was making its presence known on the West Coast of the United States, particularly in Washington State. Sure, there were a few confirmed cases of in DC and the surrounding area…but I was still getting up and going to work and going about my daily life as usual, and that made my life feel normal, unaffected by this illness that was ravaging the lives of so many. There were a few signs of concern here and there–the Sunday prior (my birthday of all days), I was refused a for-here cup at a coffee shop; due to concerns about the virus, the coffee shop in question was only giving its customers disposable cups. It had become more common place to see friends and acquaintances and hear, “Are you good to hug?” before embracing. The reminder to wash hands and be more vigilant about cleanliness was everywhere–on the Metro, at work, on the internet. Yet, until DC schools announced their closure on March 13, I was still happily living in denial.

Denial is easier than acceptance, of course. It’s why it’s so challenging for teachers to convince some parents that their child actually has a problem, whether it be a behavioral issue or a learning disorder. I thought I was too smart for denial, too aware of myself and the world around me. Yet, here I was, knee deep into my own denial about COVID.

The past few weeks, then, have been a journey towards acceptance. Accepting where I am in life–with COVID and with other aspects of myself as well. It’s been realizing that sometimes I focus so damn much on the positive that I fail to see the reality sitting right in front of me. It’s been learning to understand that as beneficial as positivity is in life–I’m an optimist for a reason, after all–sometimes it’s necessary to take a step back and take stock of the whole picture. To pay attention to the details, the facts spelling out the nature of our reality. I’ve learned in the past few weeks that positivity should be balanced and well-rounded. A healthy positivity comes from embracing and acknowledging the negative and still choosing to find the light in the world.

I’m a big picture person, see. My worldview is largely built around my (often) razor sharp intuition, which I gather largely by my big picture ability to make connections and see possibilities in those connections. My intuition guides me and, I’m discovering, sometimes its blinds me–sometimes I get so focused on my gut, that I lose sight of what’s going on around me in the present. I identify as an MBTI INFJ, and if you know anything about INFJs, it’s that we like to run to the internet and lament about how misunderstood we feel in life. Seriously. Go look up INFJ on Google, and you will find dozens upon dozens of websites and forums and YouTube videos devoted to INFJ self help. INFJs are frequently cited as the 1% in MBTI literature–the least common of the 16 personalities, the weirdly mystical, highly intuitive of the 16 personalities, and thus, the most misunderstood. A once-frequent visitor of those sites myself, who hugely identified with the INFJ stereotype of being misunderstood, I grew tired of the pity party a few years ago. “This is stupid” I thought. “I’m not going to waste my time pitying myself. I’m going to find myself instead” (Cue this song). I had already developed an excessive amount of trust and pride in my intuition, and I decided to further develop my trust and pride in it, because I saw it as an integral part of myself. In finding myself, I believed I had to follow my intuition. And I relied on it to make me happy when nothing else was. And I relied on it. And I relied on it. And instead of acknowledging my loneliness and unhappiness, instead of taking measurable steps in the present to offset that loneliness and unhappiness, I tried to micromanage my intuition. And I’ve been trying to micromanage it for years. And here’s the thing: it doesn’t work.

Now, this may seem to be getting a bit off topic–what the hell do my personal struggles have to do with a global pandemic? Well, apparently it takes a global pandemic for me to lose my shit just enough to recognize that I have some inner healing of my own to do.

See, COVID-19 wasn’t part of my intuition. I didn’t see this coming. And accepting COVID-19 as a reality has helped me to see that for the longest time, I haven’t been trusting my intuition at all. I still do believe that the best way to stay true to myself is by following my gut–I feel most at peace and at home when I live my life through my gut feelings. Yet, these past few years, though I’ve felt my intuition and I’ve believed in it, I’ve been too afraid to actually trust it; instead of trusting it, I tried to use my intuition to control my world. And, recently, that left me in tears, curled up in a fetal position on my bedroom floor, overwhelmed at my current reality and angry at myself for being so stupid. It left me sobbing to a friend over the phone a few weeks back, wondering what the hell I’ve been doing with my life for the past few years.

COVID-19 has been a much needed reminder that my intuition is finite. It cannot foresee a global pandemic, particularly if I’m too busy trying to control my life to see all the signs leading up to that global pandemic. It’s been humbling for me: My intuition may often be razor sharp, but it isn’t the end all be all of my world, particularly my current reality. I don’t know everything. I can’t control everything. Real vulnerability comes from loosening ones reins on the world. It comes from trusting, not controlling. In the words of Susan David, “Courage is fear walking“. Real courage is choosing to be vulnerable, even when it hurts. It’s laying in that fetal position and sobbing not because it feels good–but because feeling those feelings is the only way to truly move forward.

And you know what: that’s incredibly scary, but also strangely freeing. Letting go of my control has been terrifying for me. Yet, I also feel like a huge weight has been pulled off my chest. Like wow, why have I been trying so hard? It feels so good to shed all the expectations control brings and give the future freedom to unfold on its own.

— — — —

So, what does all of this have to do with putting a bra on?

The past few weeks have been weird. They’ve been freeing–not having to get up and go to work every morning is actually kind of nice. I have way more time on my hands. As an introvert, I feel a bit like I’ve hit the jack pot in not feeling the usual pressure of our largely extroverted society to go out and be social–both from others and from myself, as this has helped me realize how I put a huge amount of pressure on myself to go out and engage with the world. I think this is teaching me to be kinder to myself in that regard–there’s nothing wrong with staying home when I just want to stay home. In a strange way, I also feel more connected now than I did before COVID, since all my friends and family are so readily available to Zoom or Skype. It’s easier to find time to connect with people when everyone is suddenly left with an excess amount of free time at home. And even though I’d prefer in person connection to virtual connection, I’ll happily take what I get.

Yet it’s also been challenging–there have been tears, there have been prolonged moments where I’ve felt depressed and anxious. What do I do with my life now that I have all this free time? How do I make sure I stay connected when it’s so easy to slip into a depressed funk given the state of our world? How do I make the most of the free time I have while trying to process all my feelings and accept the fact that I have to make a new normal out of this pandemic that will in all likely hood be around for a while? How long will we have to practice social distancing? The Mayor of DC announced Stay at Home orders on March 30–how long will those be in place? Will COVID get as bad in DC as it is in New York?

There are so many things we as a society have had to figure out in the last few weeks. There are so many unasked questions. What is one to do?

Meditation. Yoga. Reaching out to loved ones. Listening to music. Reading. Writing. Having meaningful moments of connection. Feeling my feelings. Accepting my feelings. Practicing self-compassion. Dancing. Reading the news enough to stay informed, but staying away from it otherwise. These have all been incredibly useful ways for me to keep my mental health up. We all have our ways to decompress and keep our mental health in check, and I think its important we find what works for us.

Yet, I’ve still struggled with feeling productive these past few weeks. Grad school work has been so hard to complete. Keeping up with work has felt like a burden, even though I don’t even have a whole lot on my plate as an assistant teacher. I was scrolling through blog posts the other day when I came across an amazing tip: “Get Dressed” (Thank you, thank you Quelcy for this!). At first, I brushed this tip aside: my sports bra and yoga pants are so comfortable. Why would I wear anything else in quarantine? Until I thought about it more. Eventually, the idea of getting dressed started to make sense.

There is so much outside of my control right now, and control is something I like. I thrive on it. Sometimes a little bit too much. That said, I think control can be healthy in appropriate amounts. When I’m at my worst, my penchant for control leads me to micromanage my life and the lives of others. At my best, though, my penchant for control helps me get shit done. And you know, that’s something I’m proud of…that I can put my mind to something and accomplish a task. I wouldn’t be where I am today–living in the city I love, pursing a career I’m passionate about–if I wasn’t one to jump in and take the reins. Someone’s gotta control my life. It might as well be me.

Getting dressed, then, is one way I can take control of my life right now. Getting dressed into the clothes I’d usually wear to go to work. For the past few days, I’ve finished my morning online teaching (in my yoga pants and baggy VIPKID shirt, per usual) and put on a bra and jeans. Sure, they’re not as comfortable as my yoga pants and sports bra, but comfort isn’t the point of it. Getting dressed helps me feel prepared for the day. Since I started putting on a jeans and a bra, I feel more ready for the day. I feel more willing to accomplish things. I feel a little bit more control of my world right now, even if it’s just a little bit, but it’s a healthy little bit and that’s better than trying to micromanage something or someone.

I still feel a lot of fear about the future. What’s to come with COVID-19? I still feel the anxiety of growth and change–both in myself and for the world, as this pandemic will surely pave the way for changes on a global level. I still feel a little bit of guilt that I’m still gainfully employed in a career that will not damage my health, while there are others who have lost their jobs, and still others–the healthcare workers on the frontlines–who sacrifice their health by going to work everyday and caring for all those who are sick. Yet, I strongly believe that this pandemic, this time of social distancing and staying at home, can be a time of change, of growth, and of regrouping at a societal level if we allow it to be. I’m trying my best to view it as such in my day-to-day life. Some days are more successful than others in moving forward with this belief, but I’m trying none-the-less.

And, for the time being, I’m going to get up and put a bra on each morning. Not because bras are comfortable–any bra-wearing person out there will tell you that wire bras suck–but because doing so is part of my normal getting dressed ritual, because getting dressed helps me feel ready for the day and ready to get stuff done. The world we live in right now is nothing like the normal we took for granted a few weeks back–and two months back for those in many Asian countries–but if there’s anything we as individuals can do to make our lives feel a bit more manageable, to keep our mental health as balanced as possible during this global pandemic, we should be doing those things. I know I am.

When You Simultaneously Yearn for and Struggle With Change (Spoiler: This is Me)

Once upon a time in a far away land (also known as my college town on the Minnesota prairie), I sat in a psychiatrists office–anxious, nervous, and really, really scared. For the past few months, my life had been turned upside down. Since January, I had been experiencing severe anxiety that often times bordered on depression on a daily basis. It was now late March and there seemed to be no end in sight. My mind was going to dark places that I had never experienced before and I was terrified. My life had never before been clouded with so much darkness and I had no idea how to cope.

Furthermore, I had no idea why this was happening. At this time, I was in the middle of my third year of college and I knew that, in a year and half, I’d be graduating. I was, admittedly, quite nervous about my unknown, post-college future. I had also come out of an extremely unhealthy relationship a few months prior. That said, I couldn’t understand how my previous relationship or my nerves about the future landed me in such a dark place, questioning my very existence daily, hourly, every single minute of every single day.

So, there I found myself in the psychiatrists office. Looking for help. Looking for answers. I had been in counseling at my university all semester and though it was helping, I wanted something more. I had tried anti-anxiety medication and within a day of taking the first pill, I became so severely depressed that my mind and body felt numb to the world. I could barely function and I was terrified. I went off the medication as quickly as I started it; I needed something more and medication wasn’t my answer.

So, I found myself in this psychiatrists office where, after an hour-long appointment of questions and discussion, I walked out with a diagnosis–though I was told I would need more than one Continue reading “When You Simultaneously Yearn for and Struggle With Change (Spoiler: This is Me)”

#WeekendCoffeeShare–Thailand, the First Few Days Edition

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you all about how happy I am to be here sharing some coffee with you today.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you about how exhausting this week has been. After my last day at work on Sunday (which went really well, even though it was very bittersweet), I spent Monday and Tuesday finishing up  some last minute shopping and packing. Then. Wednesday.

If we were having coffee, I’d tell you about my exhausting travel experience that began Wednesday at 12:11 Central Standard Time, when my flight from Minneapolis to Chicago took off. From Chicago, I flew to Hong Kong–where I had an exhausting 11 hour layover. I barely slept at all and I wrote this rather unenthused post. Then. Finally, I boarded the plane for Continue reading “#WeekendCoffeeShare–Thailand, the First Few Days Edition”

2.5 Weeks of Anxiety? Not on My Watch!

First she slept; and then she read…

Got out of bed at noon. Started to read. Haven’t done much else today.

I could get used to this winter break life.

If only my anxiety wasn’t getting in the way…

I’m the type of person that dreams of having free time like no other; when it finally happens, with my mind all the sudden free from responsibility, the anxiety I’ve Continue reading “2.5 Weeks of Anxiety? Not on My Watch!”

A Letter to My 18 Year Old Self

Late last night, I was looking through my computer and found some old Word documents that hadn’t been looked at in ages. In particular,  I took a look at a makeshift journal I had created during my freshman year of college, since I had left my paper journal at home and was looking for a way to vent about my feelings in the pre-blogging stage of my life. I was astounded to read some of the things I had written in this journal…I sounded so lonely and dejected. Looking back, I am well aware of the fact that I wasn’t at my happiest during this time, however reading the things my 18 and 19 year old self had to say was a bit of punch to the gut…I couldn’t believe this is the life I was living. I’ve grown so much in the past four years, and for that I am incredibly thankful. I hardly recognize the girl I was when I started at Morris and that is most definitely a good thing. However, I think it’s worth looking back to see how far I’ve come. After all, that is in the true spirit of the purpose I had in creating this blog.

After reading a particularly raw entry from January 2012 where I simply stated how lonely I was, I decided to give my 18 year old self a pep talk. The below letter is the result:

Dear 18 year old Britta,

You’re going through a bit of a rough time here. You were so excited to go to college and now you’re there. You’re halfway through your freshman year, which is crazy (but believe me, you’ll think it’s even crazier when senior year rolls around). You finally have a boyfriend (isn’t that what you’ve been dreaming of your whole life?) and you’ve met a lot of fun people at Morris. Despite all that, you’re hurting. You feel that you shouldn’t be, given your circumstances, but you are and you know it. You know you’re an introvert and you know that you have trouble connecting with people because of that, but it just sucks that these people you met at the beginning of the year and who you were so excited about getting to know, aren’t connecting with you in the way Continue reading “A Letter to My 18 Year Old Self”