MISSING: Kelly Lee Dekay

I haven’t been in front of the camera for so long. I think two years. No, actually it’s only been about a year. I started working on content and I didn’t release any of it. I would edit my work and leave it in a folder. Telling myself:

It’s not ready yet.

How are people going to interpret this?

What are the comments I need to prepare myself for?

Maybe that color is wrong.

This is so trivial compared to what is happening in the world.

Right now I don’t feel like myself so I can’t interact with people with the same enthusiasm.

And it just would go on and on and on. I found Kelly Lee Dekay fading. I couldn’t channel her anymore. How could I? The personal issues I was going through morphed the way I saw the world and the way I saw myself. My self-esteem was shot. Just completely gone. I was a shell of a person. I felt phony taking photos and filming myself. She felt like a separate entity from me instead of part of me. I use to love the ritual of putting on make-up, doing my hair and picking out some fun outfit to wear just to take photos or make mini films. But compared to what I was going through and what the world is going through it felt so stupid. I felt stupid.

Before I continue, I think maybe some of you are wondering why I’m sharing this? Why am I discussing something so personal? Because I use to have a dialogue with a lot of you. It feels important to share where I have been both physically and mentally. A lot of you have been leaving me comments and messages asking where I am and asking if I’m ok. I just want to extend a virtual hug and thank you for that. Also, I hope in some way it helps someone.

Jokingly, I would often say, I am not from this world, I don’t feel human….I still feel that way. I think the last two years reminded me that in fact, I am human lol. I don’t know if that makes sense but I hope it does. I created my alter ego “Kelly Lee Dekay” when I was a mousy shy kid but she didn’t have a name until 5 years ago. She was inspired by Ororo Monroe aka Storm, Jessica Rabbit, Tank Girl and Pamela Anderson. Everything I lacked, she excelled. She was my own comic book character. I remember just daydreaming about all these fun adventures I would go on as her. As I grew up, she would evolve with me. Halloween was the only time I felt brave enough to bring her out. But then I went through a life-changing experience that left me completely broken.

In comics, our favorite characters go through a pinnacle event that forced them to make the decision on what side they are going to be on. Good? Evil? Will you seek vengeance? Will you defend the powerless? In this moment you feel both powerful and powerless. There is something so incredibly transformative when you lose the world you once knew. That level of heartache…well…at first you panic. What am I going to do? Your mind works like a roladex flipping through all the future plans you had. Gone. Your insides scream. This hurts so much. Numbness. Then stillness. In the stillness you find clarity. When you feel you lose everything…and at the moment I felt that way…I recognized a freedom there. So I said fuck it. I have not felt a pain like this…EVER…so what is rejection? What is embarrassment? What is failure? Nothing compared to what I feel right now. NOTHING. I’m gonna do exactly what I want and when I want. Because who cares…literally who fucking cares…compared to what I was through at that very moment….it’s nothing.

I made a list of all the things I wanted to do but was too chicken shit to do it. BUT, I felt I couldn’t do it as myself. So I channeled my comic character I created as a kid. She never really had a name. I thought…what could be her name? I wanted to keep my first name, Kelly, my father chose it and it means “Warrior.” I then remembered reading about how while working at Anderson & Sheppard, Lee Alexander McQueen stitched the words ‘I AM A CUNT‘ into the sleeve lining of a jacket for Prince William’s father. So I thought Kelly McKuntQueen…..But I quickly abandoned it….it didn’t roll off the tongue and it didn’t feel right. So I thought Kelly Lee McQueen. But it felt wrong to take his last name but I loved Kelly Lee. I was flipping through my journals and I saw little sketches of my comic titled, “Pink Dekay.”

That’s when I became Kelly Lee Dekay.

I did all the things that scared me. It took me to places, I would’ve never imagined. I literally started to live out the life I daydreamed about as a kid. It was scary but exciting. Quickly, I didn’t need to channel her anymore because I became HER. She helped me get over my shyness. She taught me it’s ok to fail. To see failure as a lesson for improvement. She taught me to live my life by the mantra “why not instead of what if.” She would encourage me to take risks. With each accomplishment and milestone, she taught me to love me.

Then that viral post hit. I couldn’t handle it. Everywhere I turned, my face was paired with some sort of dissection on what I have done to my body. Think pieces on how I was a “tool of the patriarchy.” Everything I am not. Everything I did not stand for. At first, I would laugh at some of the insane things people would say about me. But people’s cruelty took its toll. I started glitching. I couldn’t handle the attention. The shy weird girl started to resurface. News outlets would twist my words into sensationalized click-bait. I became very distrustful towards them. Towards everyone. I started to forget how to take cruel words and transform them with compassion. All I wanted to do was hide. But I kept trying to stand tall to the public scrutiny but I found myself constantly questioning how my work would be interpreted. I would ask myself…do I really want to deal with trolls today? Do I really want another think piece about me? My anxiety started to rear its ugly head.

As I was battling this and trying to gain control of my narrative, some positive but fast-tracked changes were occurring in my personal life. At that moment, I said fuck the world I want to focus on this. It felt like a much-needed break from the judgments of the world. I was in my own bubble. I wanted to enjoy this moment without it being tainted by shitty comments and articles. I just didn’t have the mental and emotional capacity to create and execute. My hiatus turned from a few days to a few weeks. Which then turned to months turning to a year…long story short, personal issues, my depression making a hardcore comeback, my anxiety shadowing me and the world exploding in 2016….I just couldn’t. As I stated earlier, I was a shell trying to hide my cracks. I would plaster over them and paint them…but they kept showing up. I didn’t feel like me. How can I be KLD when I’m falling apart? She would never fall apart. She was strong, confident and ready to take on the world. I was not.

Late last year, I had a cosmetic procedure done. My recovery was brutal. Nothing I have ever experienced. I remember being afraid to fall asleep thinking I wouldn’t wake up. (More on that in a video I filmed.) I told myself if I recover from this, I’m going to make the most of it. This combined with my personal problems left me feeling the way I felt that day I decided I wasn’t afraid anymore. What is there to be afraid of when you feel you lost everything? But this time I didn’t lose everything. But I could. So I asked myself what if I did lose everything then what would be left of me? What would be left of my life? What would all this pain and sadness be for? I couldn’t let KLD go down without a fight. I worked so hard. SO FUCKING HARD. And like a roladex, I remembered everything I did, went through and lived with and for KLD. I had to learn to do my own makeup because, at that time, makeup artist didn’t know how to work with olive skin. I had to learn to shoot and film myself because photographers would be lost on how to shoot someone that isn’t 5’9″ and skinny. I had to create my OWN path in the very WHITE fetish world. I had to design and make my own costumes because I don’t fit “off the rack.” I had to learn to style my hair. I had to drive and carry my own luggage to set. I had to be my own P.R., manager, makeup artist, hair stylist, stylist, photographer, cinematographer, web designer, social media coordinator, and cheerleader. I did everything. EVERYTHING.

Kelly Lee Dekay started as a nameless comic character which then became my alter ego. But I realized…I am HER. She couldn’t exist without ME. She is Me and I am Her. To many KLD is just some curvy model with blue hair that wears corsets and latex. For me, she is a force. She is my imagination manifested. She has fought for me. Now it’s my turn to fight for her.

When I was going through all this shittiness, I kept thinking I just don’t want to feel pain anymore. I don’t want to hurt anymore. I just want to be happy. But here’s the thing, happiness is pain. Hear me out. To one person ice cream is happiness. To someone who is lactose intolerant it’s pain lol. Duality is part of life. It’s about perspective. It’s about going still and finding the opportunity in a “negative” experience. No, this isn’t about always thinking positive. That’s literally impossible. I think it’s important to honor those feelings of sadness, hurt and pain. Because without them you can’t really appreciate and understand happiness. I am someone who deals with really bad anxiety. Finding stillness is like….dude…FUCK OFF. But I revisited tools that helped me navigate my anxiety and depression. I read books like “The Art of Not Giving a Fuck” and “No Mud, No Lotus.” (This was a gift from my Eva. 💖) I started weight lifting again. I started writing in my journal again. I made time to see friends. I made time to talk to my friends. I actively practiced mindfulness and stopped taking people’s projections as personal attacks. I invested in self-care and self-love. Slowly but surely, I started to find myself again. The more I felt aligned with myself the more confident I grew. The more I was able to practice compassion. The more I was able to be at peace with feeling out of control and focus on things I can control. Stillness.

Does this mean I am always cool, collected and happy? Nope. But it means I forgive myself for not always being cool, collected and happy. I let myself be sad instead of beating myself up for being sad. Sometimes a bitch gotta cry. Gangstas feel sad sometimes too lol. I found that if I let myself cry instead of being angry at myself for crying then it feels like I released those feelings and I can move forward. It refocuses me. It’s cathartic. I love weight lifting because it makes me focus on my body and it’s movements. I can take all that energy that would be invested in feeding my anxiety and just lift. Trust me, flipping on your favorite playlist paired with feeling that burning sensation while pushing through reps….feels fucking good. That’s my meditation. That’s my form of stillness. But I digress….

I shared this with you because KLD was created by a shy weird kid who felt like she didn’t belong anywhere. She’s a manifestation of my love of comics, fashion, fantasy, and imagination. But I realized I used her to shield myself from pain when in fact she grew from pain. What you see online is a fragment of the bigger picture. I think it would be a disservice to not share that with you. I’ve always rooted for the underdogs, the weirdos, the rebels, the geeks, the freaks and everyone in between. And well… I know, in those dark moments, it feels like you’re drowning. You want to take a breath of air so fucking bad but you don’t know how to. Everything just feels like chaos. I know those moments, you’re often misunderstood and labeled “difficult” or “anti-social.” I just want you to know that I get it. I just want you to know that I know you’re trying your best. It’s hard to navigate a world where you feel excluded and misunderstood. Or when you’re just so fucking sad or broken. Don’t beat yourself up, instead, let yourself feel what you’re feeling and then arm yourself. Arm yourself with tools that will help you work through those dark moments. Right now especially, the world is extra dark and scary. Talk to someone, find your community, read books, write, create, do activities that make you feel good. Loving the fuck out of yourself is an act of rebellion. It is a political act.

I know this sounds hyperbolic but honestly, you never know who you’ll inspire for just being you. Which reminds me of my favorite poem from the great Frida Kahlo.

A post shared by Kelly Lee Dekay (@kellyleedekay) on Jun 3, 2015 at 8:23pm PDT