Nico Tortorella - Space Between: Explorations of Love, Sex, and Fluidity

Ive been trying to write this book for months now. And I dont think its an accident that its finally coming as I sit here in my dream house. A sprawling chapelesque estate on thirty-three acresthank you, Youngerabout an hour and a half north of New York City, in this little town where Im already starting to feel at home. Ive been up here for days now, writing, writing, writing, going over every little detail of my life, all the joy, pain, and regret, while I pound the keys. Youve heard of somatic manifestations, right? Where your body says fuck you because of all the stuff going on in your brain? Well, thats happening, proof that writing this book is a birth in its own right. Im feeling the agony of delivery: debilitating lower back pain, contractions and muscle spasms that result in full-fledged panic attacks. Im going over my past and some of it is ugly, but most of it is beautiful even in its flaws, and Im giving birth to myself, right here and now, as I write.

Girl. Bro. For real. Just breathe.

Whats wild is that as your dreams start coming true, you start to dream different dreams. You start to dream bigger; you gain the ability to shift intention. You start to set aside the old shit, and opportunities to turn over a new leaf emerge. Thats what healing is, right? Shedding an old skin as you grow into a new one, like a snake discarding its former shell as a natural function of survival. Through this creative process of healing, Ive learned that I wasnt born into the wrong body. No, I was born into the wrong world. Realizing this is a big part of my story.

Today, press is rolling in from some of the recent activism Ive been involved inan NBC interview about the Trump administrations proposed anti-trans legislation, and a People article about a protest I had participated in the weekend prior for the advocacy to end intersex surgery. For as long as I can remember, this is all Ive ever wanted. To use whatever fame I have for the purpose of justice, and to make a den in the middle of nowhere to raise a brood. These are my priorities: the ability to leverage a career to effect positive change, and being able to walk outside to kiss the earth and develop a symbiotic relationship with the land.

Im in a back brace and have to lie on the floor to take a break, next to the fire blazing in the eight-foot hearth. Ive thrown my back out before, but never quite like this. I thought it was maybe because I havent been working out as much as I used to, or because Ive been wearing heels a lot more than I did in the past, or because I took a fall mountain biking last week. Some combination of the three has led me to this. As I lie here staring into the flames, it hits me. The deeply profound lesson in all of this.

We hold our emotions in different parts of our bodyour repressed emotional pains and deep hurt in our lower back and pelvic floor, our shoulders and stomach. The past four days I have purged the last thirty years of my life onto the living room walls, storyboarding this book with index cards, a black marker, and tape. At the same time, the country is gearing up for midterm elections and I have been actively pushing an agenda on social to ride that blue wave. All while some of the most incredible career validations have been unfolding for me. And the glory, trauma, and disturbance surrounding my childhood, gender, sexuality, career, and addiction resurface and manifest as this angelic vision. Me: a fucking mess. Though as I look around I am able to see the medicine.

The house is ornamented with religious iconography, childhood keepsakes that remind me of my family and of past lovers, and treasures from my travels. I can see my altar in the distance and crawl my way to it. My God, Gods, and angels. My spirit guides, my Patronus, my crystals and tarot cards and palo santo and dragons blood and every other herb, image, candle, incense, and stereotypical pseudoscience ritual object Ive collected over the years. And I pray. First there is gratitude. And then there is love.

By telling my story, I hope to give something back to you. Storytelling is artthe art of healing. Ive known that since I was stage-acting in Chicago as a teenager. The craft, my first great love. As much as I still love this art form and will continue to pursue it, Im more interested in telling my own story, in playing the most authentic version of myself, rather than retelling someone elses. Only then will I actually be able to give all of myself to the characters written for me. I have always believed I would never feel totally successful until I knew I was able to make an offering to the world. In the wake of the current administrations blatant attacks on trans, intersex, gender-nonconforming, and all-around human rights, I had to find a way to express myself in the best manner I know how. Through art. This is about yall. This book is about all of us.

We are at the precipice of big changes toward love and inclusivity. The future is fluid. But so is the past. We as human beings have all always been fluid in some capacity, our journeys perpetually in motion, ready to bend and shift when necessary. It is precisely in that space between where the truth resides. The real magic. The self-actualization.

Splitting billions of people into only two categoriesmen and womenis maybe one of the most foolish things weve ever done as a human race. The great dichotomy of the world. Its no wonder we put so much pressure on the categorization of gay and straight and the binary constructs of masculine and feminine, and why the space between is so confusing for people to understand. Weve been taught one thing in this country since the beginning. Well, two things. You are either normala straight white couple with two and a half kids and a white picket fenceor you are other, by which I mean youre somewhat excluded from the category of human as its constructed and enforced by mainstream culture. We are inherently afraid of what is unfamiliar and deemed different. In our personal lives, we very much understand the gray areas of things, the spaces between, but its much easier to tell a story if it is definitive. But were not always definitive. We can say or believe one thing today and learn something tonight and then use our voices and actions to change tomorrow.