What is Freedom: Zoe Mendelson

Dear Yali Lou, 

The topic of self-seriousness has been on my mind. It’s a double-edged sword. A prison, a necessary tool, a tricky thing to know when to wield and when to avoid. Here I have gathered for you what I’ve learned about it so far. 

Many times, less-brilliant people (and also just men in general) get ahead because they take themselves seriously and insist on their own greatness to others. More-brilliant people, because they are smart enough to recognize that they’re not geniuses, don’t think they’re great, and therefore don’t insist on telling others that they’re great. You don’t have to be able to believe 100% of the time in the brilliance, originality, or worthiness of your own work, you just need enough self-seriousness to respect your own ambition and to heed its demands––to throw your hat in the ring relentlessly anyway.

Then there’s the matter of being actually good. In your own practice, whatever it is, I hope you will go the long hard way of inching toward excellence at something. It’s spiritually enriching and will help you secure a living. You need a degree of self-seriousness to do it, but try to find seriousness about your work without letting it become seriousness about your self.

No matter how well you do in your career, you are a pretty girl, so most men will assume you are less smart and less capable than they are. (Here’s where our experiences will differ. I am white and you are not and it is probable that you will encounter these indignities more widely than I have. You will have to seek counsel from your tías on those fronts. Lucky for you, they are really, really smart.) 

At least in working with men, being underestimated, while infuriating, can give you tactical leverage. Learn when it is in your interest to demand to be taken seriously, and when it is in your interest to simply work less hard and manipulate men by playing to their egos. I used to do the former more often than the latter, but these days I save lots of energy by opting to just say many variations of, “wow, you’re so smart!” It’s a minority of men who want the best quality work more than they want to feel great about themselves. Don’t show any man how smart or capable you are until you’ve observed him and learned how he operates. 

The trickiest moments are when you have to demand to be taken seriously by men who live inside their egos, or by people who don’t respect you because of who you are. This is when you need self-seriousness the most––both to maneuver with spine and to manage not to internalize their dismissiveness. Learn the person you’re dealing with to the extent you can, focus on breathing, and ask questions to buy time while you figure out your move (people love to hear themselves talk, never underestimate how many questions you can ask). Then, when you’ve made a guess at the best approach, ask for exactly what you are owed, whether that’s credit for your ideas, fair compensation, or basic respect. Sometimes it will go badly, but when you find out that a bridge leads to nowhere, you get to have fun burning it. 

So yes, you do need a certain amount of self-seriousness, but too much of it will make you sick. For me at least, the balance is hardest to strike in the moments when work is going well. Celebrate your own effort, but don’t get swept up when others are celebrating you. It’s not going to be a shot straight up and if you can avoid getting too high in the good moments, you’ll fare better in the bad ones. (Things are never as good or as bad as they seem.) 

Strive for excellence in your craft, but don’t stake your identity on externally validated excellence. That’s just ego shit. (If people don’t tell me every single thing I do has re-invented the genre, I feel I’ve failed. It’s extremely dumb.)

Sometimes you’ll fail not just to be excellent but to even be Good. Practice self-forgiveness, or you’ll be more likely to do the same stupid shit again. We are our worst, least-empowered selves when we are ruled by shame, and hating yourself is just self-seriousness in disguise. Also, the more self-serious we are, the more vulnerable we are to shame. Humans are controlled by basic instincts and big emotions. We are ridiculous. Find the humor in your own ridiculousness. 

Learn to laugh at yourself with yourself and with the people who love you. Learn to talk about and laugh about your flaws and failures with the people who love you, not as self-effacement but as simple honesty. I love being made fun of by the people I love because it makes me feel seen. I hope some day you will get to experience that joy––of being loved by people who see you, and seen by people who love you. 

The stakes are high, my love. Self-seriousness, while necessary, is a spiritual liability. Too much can make you like those men who live inside their egos––trapped, dead to the world, and vulnerable to manipulation. It’s a state of being that blinds you to the magic and horrors of the world, makes you miss out on everything that gives life meaning. It separates you from the one perfect lifeweb. 

So laugh at yourself often. To laugh at yourself is to be free. 

Love, Mama