Princess Mummy personal essays #1: One Thing

“One Thing”

Since I was a child, I remember living in deep daydreams. I would take myself off to bed early every night so that I could lie in the dark and spend hours envisioning different lives for myself, different versions of who I would be when I grew up. I never wanted to be one thing. I would take any chance I could get to spend time alone and work on these “visions”. On school trips I would ask to sit by myself so I could have extra time to close my eyes and explore my inner world.

As a teenager I would take the longest route possible into the city; staring out the window of trains and buses, thinking about who I would be. On these journeys, if I spoke with a stranger, I would make up a life for myself - a new age, a new name. Where I was going. What I was doing. I loved to spin fantasy for no reason at all except to be someone different for a little bit.

I remember watching Mr Benn when I was around 7 years old; the main character would go into a fancy dress shop, choose a costume and step out of the changing room to embody that look. He could be anyone as long as he could find the outfit; a cook, a zookeeper, a clown. I was hooked - where was this shop?! Could I do this too?! Mr Benn didn’t have to be one thing.

When I was 14, my art teacher introduced me to the work of Sophie Calle. She had built a catalogue of work on an exploration of identity and intimacy; disguising herself to follow strangers, inserting herself into other lives, dissecting her own relationships for the world to see. I was so fascinated. That year for my final project I created a performance art piece where I would stand in a tableau that I created of five different characters, one at a time. Whilst the rest of my class painted and collaged, I dressed up and stood frozen in time as that character. Taking some satisfaction in the rest of my class not “understanding” my work. It was extremely precocious for a 14 year old and to think of it now makes me laugh. But I haven’t changed.

When I heard Bittersweet Symphony for the first time, that one lyric stuck in my head; “I am a million different people from one day to the next”. I think about it all the time. All the different people I have to be and the ones I want to.

As an adult I could never stick to anything for longer than two years and boy did I degrade myself for it. I would wonder if I was stupid or lazy. Every time I would begin to experience the feeling of settling I would immediately become restless. How could I be expected to be one thing when an infinite amount of versions of me wrestled for a place at the front of my mind. I would put myself in a box, and then another and then another. Corporate girly, earth mother, traveller, entrepreneur, party animal. Despairing every time the box fell apart. Scolding myself for not being able to stick at that one thing. I would look around at the lives of my friends; sticking to jobs, partners, aesthetics. I wanted that to be me.

I think about where it came from, this shame around needing to change. I grew up in a family of nine, lower working-class. You don’t get the luxury of dreaming big. Your fantasies are just that. Your best hope is that you find a partner and a job, have some kids and continue the cycle of just getting by. So whilst no one ever directly told me I had to be one thing; I absorbed it as the truth. And as I’ve moved through the world plenty of people have felt the need to point it out to me, my tendency to burn down an old life and start from the beginning once again.

I can admit when I first started working as a professional dominatrix I fell back into the old trap of trying to be one thing. If I could just be really good at that thing, then I would be satisfied… finally! No such luck. As always, I quickly got bored. In my mind, with sex work, you had to brand yourself as one thing and stick with that. That’s how you build your profile, right? It’s partly true; your clients like you in particular because they like that thing that you provide. But I’ve also learned that clients, like most people, are attracted to authenticity. At least the ones I want to attract. And then one day- a profound realisation; I can reframe this. It’s my superpower: shapeshifting. Not just a Princess or a Mummy. A Priestess, a Goddess, a Teacher. A sadist, a sweetie pie, a spiritual leader. Every day can be a visit to Mr Benn’s costume shop. Who better to help you fulfil a fantasy than a person who can contain multitudes? A person who feels most authentic when they finally get to be more than one thing.