Play Now, Work Later

You--yes, you--deserve pleasure today

Months ago I came across a quote from queer Black artist, educator, and speaker Rashida KhanBey Miller that changed my life:

Pleasure is our fuel, not a reward.

So simple, yet this phrase, which has now become my mantra, has begun to shift something deep within me.

For most of my life, I’ve been a “do all your work first and then you can relax” and “eat your veggies so you can have dessert” kind of person. Truth be told, being able to delay gratification has served me well in life. Growing up, I was a latchkey kid who didn’t need to be told twice to do my homework before I started to play or watch tv. In college, I rarely pulled all-nighters; I was that annoying classmate who had her paper written, printed out, stapled, and secured in a color-coordinated folder days before it was due. (I know, insert eye roll here). I was so self-directed that I went from undergrad to grad school in one fell swoop, my nose down to the grindstone writing a dissertation and then a book to earn tenure. I was an expert on working hard so I could play later. Working-class Black girls like me just didn’t get many chances to mess up. So, I didn’t.

The problem is, at some point I forgot about play, about pleasure. Like so many of us I got caught up on the capitalist hamster wheel of work. And, like so many of us, the past eighteen months have shown me the cost of all work and no play.

I thought I knew the cost before. I have chronic illnesses exacerbated by genetics, structural inequities, and the unrelenting pressure I put on myself. In the before times, my body would let me know if I was doing too much. First, it was a tap on the shoulder. Then an insistent nudge. If I still didn’t listen she’d start to scream.

Nowadays she’ll start at the scream. Ain’t no more polite tapping.

This is why Miller’s assertion has been so powerful to me. It’s is a reminder—a charge, really—not to put off what feels good. That hot shower, that massage, that nap, that delicious meal, that dance break, that afternoon of lovemaking—whatever it is, whatever I need to feel good in this body today, that takes priority. The emails, the reports, the people that need labor from me will still be there, but I will not if I don’t prioritize what I need. And, to be clear and crunk, not all my problems will be solved by a cup of tea or an orgasm. Some (many, most) things we think about as personal trauma are absolutely connected to white supremacy, capitalism, patriarchy, ableism, homophobia and other destructive systems of power. However, part of how these dehumanizing systems function is that they take us out of ourselves, make us reject our flesh, and estrange us from pleasure. I reject that full stop and invite you to reject it too.

These days not experiencing pleasure feels like deprivation. I’m living in the “now” I worked so hard to get to and I can barely enjoy it. So, I’ve made a decision to embrace pleasure as the foundation of my life. I’m still figuring out what that means and what it looks like, but I do know that I can’t return to my old ways.