The 90s & Me... Almost Happy by LACES
The last time I can remember being truly happy was in the 90s. At thirty-three years old that feels like a bold statement, but something tells me someone else out there is caught in the same time warp as well.
That’s not to say I haven’t had some of my best moments post 90s, but when I reflect upon that time I remember feeling safe and having fun in a semi-digitized world where my life was still mostly analog. I recall a world in which I was forced to play outside, which led to playing manhunt with the neighborhood kids or pretending to have superpowers when we walked home for dinner.
The 90s was routinely defined by VCRs, dinners without cellphones (with the whole family), shopping at the local mall, dying my hair purple (when I was eight), putting pen to paper, and waiting for TGIF to come on television with a bag of popcorn popping in the microwave. Everything was an event because there was a waiting period involved. There was nothing better than whatever you already had planned. There was no FOMO. We all had permission to be present and to get lost in our daydreams.
In 1996, I didn’t have social media or influencers to follow. The tastemakers in my life were my older brothers. They listened to alternative music, so I listened to alternative music. My brother James thought Alanis Morissette was cool, so I thought Alanis Morissette was cool. Josh, my other brother thought Harvey Danger’s “Flagpole Sitta” was sick – so I thought Harvey Danger’s “Flagpole Sitta” was sick (fun fact: I still cover that song to this day). I would routinely tape record (yes - with a cassette, children) radio shows so I could listen to all the cool new music that my brothers liked.
Those “influencers” were my connection to the outside world, because how else would I know what was cool?! Before we started getting targeted Facebook ads, it was the people around us that influenced us the most. I will never forget the first time I caught James and Josh watching Buffy The Vampire Slayer... I was immediately hooked. Now Buffy is, legit, my religion (some people have God - I have Buffy. Don’t ask, because I will probably tell you anyway).
As I’ve gotten older I keep finding myself reaching back to the 90s like other thirty-somethings reach for their weighted blanket. Was everything perfect then? Absolutely not, but there was a simplicity in that decade that has haunted me my entire adult life. I have always struggled with anxiety, but back then I could sit still without the fear of missing out (hello, FOMO). In fact, it felt encouraged. Granted, I was young then, and I didn’t have any adult responsibilities or issues looming in the background (ahh, to be young). In a way, the 90s feel like a time capsule that I am safe to visit from time to time.
When we entered the 2000s the world started to look darker to me, even as our collective style was getting brighter (and frankly not cute) - sorry y’all, but I know you remember those girl bands that came after the Spice Girls... it was ROUGH SAUCE).
To cope with the impending millennium, I started playing music, but I only became depressed the more society forced me to connect with my peers (and others) through the internet. I remember seeing something online and on an E True Hollywood Story about actress Jamie Lee Singler and how she routinely counted calories when she had an eating disorder. As a ballerina, I decided at the age of twelve that that same strategy might also be beneficial for me.
I looked up how to do it and how to hide it from my family through Google, or Ask Jeeves (whatever was available first). At eighty-nine pounds and a height of 5’7 inches, I was slowly wasting away. It wouldn’t be long before I developed a rare jaw disease that eventually caused my bones to disintegrate.
As a teenage girl, I felt like I was losing everything and worse. It felt as if everyone had access to me between AIM, my AOL homepage, and the music I was creating being hosted on as many websites that would take me. As a teenager, life always seems a little dark, but I decided that I wanted to start meeting members of my birth family (I was adopted at the age of four) at the same time. Hello overwhelming! My whole world got complicated and would continue to get even more complicated. Damn you 2000s!!!
Post the 90s, my journey was painfully somber. The 2000s were a blur laced with a few brief fits of laughter that seemingly lightened the load (we all have to laugh if we want to continue our respective journeys, no matter how painful). For example: following my high school graduation, I was signed to a major label as a recording artist, then later dropped (I know, shocking); I was sexually assaulted (numerous times); I underwent TWO reconstructive jaw surgeries; I was homeless (albeit briefly); I took a stab at adult entertainment; and I even found the time to have a falling out with my adopted family. Go me!
Despite all of the setbacks and never-ending hurtles, my spirit has always been resilient - giving up was never an option. However, in the moments that I was beside myself, I would put my favorite Buffy episode on the TV and it would take me back somewhere safe, somewhere in which I was loved and the world seemed smaller. A world that only belonged to me and the people closest to me. A time in my life where I could be myself wholeheartedly and without fear.
I am a grown woman now and I know I will never get back to the 90s as hard as I try, but for the first time in my life I am starting to feel settled. Learning to breathe and become my own place of serenity. The 90s taught me that I know what feeling safe feels like, and I finally have the tools to create that space for myself. Happiness has never been a destination for me, but I am thankful to say that I finally feel comfortable in my own skin, and I’m probably as close as I will ever get to that so-called “happy place.” Let’s just say... I’m almost happy.
PHOTOS * Shari Hoffman
STORY * LACES