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Self-employed, self-exhausted
A clover, a bee, and a break
I used to think that once I made it —got the book deal, built a steady-enough stream of freelance work, stashed away some savings to weather a health crisis or creative drought—I’d finally feel free to slow down when I wanted to. That understands how capitalism doles out prizes for visibility and speed—even when those very forces stifle the creative process and are at odds with what it takes to make something daring, unruly, and true. Beholding the Body, an installment of my advice column Dear Susu, where I responded to this question from a community member: “How do I make peace with changes in my appearance?” (Hint: My answer involved Frida.)
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