To our beautiful community,
Hi there, it’s Kate, the founder of Viva Voce. I am excited to show up more regularly with you all this year, and one of those ways will be through this monthly newsletter. I am excited to share more with you not only about our mission and the passion behind Viva Voce, but also about causes that affect our community, our amazing brand partners, and more about me as a real human navigating a busy and continually more bizarre world as a fat human.
Last month I spent a week in NYC, visiting our pop up in Brooklyn for the last time 😢, doing some planning with our team for next steps 🥳, and soaking in a bit of NYC and all that delights me about it, even when it is below freezing, covered in snow, and I catch a cold (I have a LOT of love for that city). I also happened to lose my voice at the end of our team meetings, and had to learn how it feels to not be able to communicate. It was only gone for a few days, but it made me realize how much I rely on my voice, and how connected that is with how I show up in the world- and not necessarily in the way I thought. What I discovered, beyond the fact that I felt very unlike myself being quiet, was that I apologize often for my presence, for the space I take up. At 6ft 1in, and north of 350 pounds, I am constantly aware, especially in a crowded city like New York, how close I am to other people, and how much I feel “in the way”. Opening doors, squeezing down aisles, waiting for coffee, stepping into the subway, I am constantly having to negotiate the space with other, mostly smaller, humans. Now I know most people have to deal with this issue in New York city, and many native New Yorkers are probably rolling their eyes- New Yorkers have a way of taking the space they need, unapologetically, and continuing on their way. This isn’t necessarily rude, just very matter of fact. I, on the other hand, aware not only of the crowded areas I was in but also very aware that I take up more of that common real estate than most- and also the judgement that comes along with how big of a bodily home I reside in, realized I compensate for this with a lot of apologies. Spitting out sorries like its my job, protecting myself by apologizing for a feeling of anger they might have before they even feel it, (which I can also tend to do in relationships, but we will save that for another newsletter) habitually repenting for the disturbance of my existence. Then suddenly, those sorries were removed from my mouth. I tried to speak them and choked on the words, or they came out in an indiscernible whisper. I was faced with just having to exist, without apology, in the body I live in. I was also faced with the fact that though I have done considerable work on accepting and loving my body as it is, I still felt the need to armor up in public, to protect myself by being apologetic and deferential, to succumb to the judgments and standards of being that permeated the air around us all. As I had to uncomfortably sit in my inability to hide behind my sorries, I realized they were a garment too small to fit me any longer. I wanted to hold my space with power, not apology. I wanted to own my size more fully, yet again.
See, this is always a process, dear friends, one that I find has me shedding new layers time after time. Coming home to ourselves, soul and body, isn’t a one time event. Its a journey of removing all the clothes that have never fit, all the masks we have worn, all the ways we have silenced ourselves, and sometimes, as I found out, the words we have used to make ourselves smaller when we instead could have been silent. This is a process I find myself digging into ever more deeply, as I practice the courage of showing up as my whole self in so many areas of life. Personal life transitions and global scale upheaval are requiring it of me. Maybe you feel it too. We are in a pressure cooker, one of pain and trauma, outrage, and dissolution. Many days I want to hide and run from it all, and what it requires of me, but I am finding that when I instead lean in, to the uncertainty, the pain, the undoing, and the very human need (as in that fact that we all need, we need each other, we need care, we need so many things, need is core to being human) that arises from it all, I feel so much stronger, and more alive. I can stop apologizing and start living. It takes all I have to lean in, and because of that I am learning how to be so intentional with what I hold, and what holds me, but it is worth it to show up. Hiding myself in any way, is a distraction from the more important work we get to all do together- hold each other. Take care of each other. Take up the space they keep asking us to shrink from, so that maybe someone else can take up theirs too.
At viva voce, building community is far more than a marketing strategy. It is a tool of reclamation. We come together, to build the world we long for, a world where every body, and every soul has safety, nourishment, love, and self expression. I hope that today, you quiet your own “I’m sorries” in any area of your life where you have felt the need to hide or shrink, and you know we are with you as you journey towards the fullness of self expression, liberation, and joy, whatever that looks like for you. Sorries, as one of my close friends says, are only for when you hurt someone. Maybe our leaders need to learn more about how to say them (and take action to live them), as we learn to say them less. Take up space, loves, your existence is enough, you don’t have to prove your value.
With courage, solidarity, and joy,
Kate