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  • Judy
November 24, 2023
November 24, 2023
Categories
  • My Name Story

The Paradox of Being Both Visible and Invisible

What does it mean to be visible and how can we be both visible and invisible at the same time?
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A Flame Ignites, Chapter 2 of The Lovers is out on A Flame Ignites, Chapter 2 of The Lovers is out on my new substack.hanaparklee.substack.com or 🔗 in bioTom’s profile stopped me in my tracks. Other than when I first met my ex-husband, I hadn’t seen anyone this attractive before. Attraction was a lower priority for me as I swiped through the hundreds of men on Bumble, searching instead for signs of character and shared values.Tom was thirty-nine, just outside my age filter, Latino, and a creative. I looked over his profile and was impressed by the advocacy work he did for his community. Investing my free time in my own community was important to me so I appreciated discovering someone who did the same.As I scrolled his profile, my attraction grew. He valued open communication and hard conversations, had lots of interesting creative endeavors, and hiked. Check, check, check…well, hiking was quite common in Seattle so it was just a nice bonus. But oh my god, was he hot! Check!Then I saw it.He was looking for a long-term relationship, a filter I had been using to quickly eliminate men. While my brain pondered what to do, my body had a feeling about him so I swiped right.Though my intuition had never been wrong, I assumed we wouldn’t match anyway. To my surprise, our profile pictures flashed instantly together side-by-side. “It’s a match!” Bumble exclaimed. This meant he had already seen my profile and swiped right first.
Don't forget to take a moment to breathe and be pr Don't forget to take a moment to breathe and be present with the beautiful colors and light of fall. ❤️🍁🍂
My mom left me not because she wanted to, but beca My mom left me not because she wanted to, but because she had to.As an immigrant in America, she was rooted in a Korean church community for her survival. There was so much love and support there, but also control and judgment.She was a divorced woman with limited means and English trying to survive on her own, while being exploited for her labor in the garment industry in NYC.There was no social safety net for her.She needed a man to survive so she made the difficult decision to start over by leaving the country to marry another man.So many of us carry mother wounds. Those wounds were not created in a vacuum. They come from the generations of trauma the women of our lineage endured to persevere in a world that is dangerous for our bodies.Our bodies become places to absorb the impact of patriarchy, racism, colonialism and all other systems of oppression meant to starve what rightfully belongs to us.We are left undernourished and hungry for love.This trauma is internalized, forcing us to detach from our bodies and our feelings. We harm our bodies through judgment, fear, self-hatred, and the false belief that we are not enough.We eat ourselves from the inside out, consuming each other in the process, and try to contain our bodies into the smallest spaces possible rather than taking up the space our bodies deserve.Our bodies are where our power lies and the safe and mutual care we build together is the path to get there.Women’s bodies are divine. They are the center of creation and magic.It's time for us to start listening to them.If you live in a marginalized BIPOC body and would like to participate in Embodied Rebirth, please DM me. I am looking especially for Latine, visibly disabled, and older 60+ bodies.To learn more about my embodiment journey, subscribe to my substack.
A New Era, Chapter 1 of The Lovers is out on my ne A New Era, Chapter 1 of The Lovers is out on my new substack.hanaparklee.substack.com or 🔗 in bioIn May of 2026, I left my husband to move into an apartment of my own. It had been two years since I first told him I was done and planned to leave, twenty-eight years since we were married, and thirty-five years since I met him at just nineteen-years-old.Here I was at the advanced age of fifty-four, nearing the twilight quarter of my life, to take the unfathomable risk of leaving behind my entire adult life.There were so many legitimate fears I had to consider to make this happen. I gave up financial security, a real concern at my age, I worried about hurting my relationships with my teenagers, and it felt too late to meet someone new. I had to accept that I might end up alone.Fifty-four was too old to be starting over, but my body endured as long as it could and refused to stay any longer. I had no choice.By September 25th, I deleted all the apps and ended everything. Little did I know that the three months of dating and the intensely raw, painful, and magical aftermath concluding a month later would profoundly change me forever.
Last Friday night, I participated as a panelist fo Last Friday night, I participated as a panelist for the @herethenproject by @jocelynrc. I shared my story of choosing my inner child and the grief of everything I’d been through this year.During the panel, the moderator asked us how we would move through the world differently if we recognized that everyone had a story and we could see the inner child in each other.I didn’t have an answer at the time.As I looked at my portrait from the project, I could still see my 4-year old girl in the adult me, I told the audience. We still had the same brightness in our eyes, despite mine being puffy from crying the morning of my session.Evidence of my pain didn't take away from my joy because in my big, childish smile was a woman who loved her own too muchness. It meant she again carried the same open heart she did when she was 4-years old.I returned to the question the moderator posed during the panel.When we were kids, before the world taught us to brace for pain, we walked around with open hearts, fully exposed and vulnerable. We dreamed big and hoped for the magic of impossible things.Maybe the answer to that question wasn’t only about seeing the inner child in each other, but learning to return to the children we once were to believe again in the magic of impossible things.Read The Lovers on my new Substack at hanaparklee.substack.com or 🔗 in bio to learn about my journey.📷 Thanks to @jjxlab.
This picture was taken of me when I was about 4 or This picture was taken of me when I was about 4 or 5 years old in Korea. It reminds me of a time when life had space for pure joy. Our family moved to the U.S. when I was 6 and it's hard for me to remember anything joyful since. Our life was hard and I had to stop being a kid.I've returned to this picture again and again as a reminder to remember the joy during hard times—that I had once held it openly and freely.This season of hard was so brutal because I had to grapple with the physical pain I'd been holding onto and free it from my body. Throughout it all, I reminded myself to remember the joy because joy could thrive in any circumstance. As I continued to do that, I realized that grief and joy had always been dancing together in harmony.When I signed up for the @herethenproject to be photographed with my inner child, I knew which picture I'd use. When I showed up, I was in the middle of deep grief and had spent the morning crying, like I had been everyday for weeks. Yet seeing this picture helped me tap into the joy I already had inside of me.It was such a pleasure to participate in someone else's photo project for the first time. Thank you @jocelynrc for this opportunity.Come see me and other panelists speak about experiencing this project this Friday.🗓️ October 23rd 🕑 7:30pm 📍 Town Hall Seattle 🔗 Link in bio or townhallseattle.orgI ran towards grief and found joy dancing with her.Their twirling created ripples in the water, as it reflected the setting sky, radiating afar.And I found myself feeling overwhelmed with love.I knew then that you would stay with me in my heart forever and I wept from heartache, as I held grief and joy together in an ever expanding heart.

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Art + Social Justice
Judy Lee, Portrait Artist & Storyteller

webelongseattle@gmail.com

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