kindness & change

on what we deserve and revisiting perpetual impermanence

In my Letterboxd review of Micky 17, I wrote: “the theme [the movie] excelled best at… is the question of not ‘how does it feel to die’ but rather ‘how does it feel to live.’’" Throughout the movie, Mickey 17 keeps mumbling to himself that his life as an expendable, forced to live through death over and over again, is a punishment. He blames himself for his mother’s death even though he knows it isn’t his fault.

It isn’t until the end of the movie that he stops viewing his existence as punishment but rather as an opportunity.

Much like Mickey 17, I have lived most of my life believing I have to somehow make up for my existence. My struggles with perpetual impermanence, the belief that nothing I do will matter, that nothing good will last and neither will I. About half a year after I wrote that piece about my fear of getting a tattoo, I ended up booking a tattoo appointment and getting my first tattoo.

mickey 17 at the end of the movie

So much has changed since I wrote that piece in March 2024, but one thing I only recently realized is how I’ve unintentionally grown out of that perpetual impermanence (even if I sometimes return to it because old habits die hard).

In the movie, Mickey 17 is changed by the kindness and love he experiences, including from a clone of himself. He finds purpose when he’s saved by the creepers, when he learns how to communicate with them, and when he stops viewing himself as expendable and as someone capable of being loved and loving.

Sometimes, you don’t know what you deserve until someone shows you.

I didn’t realize how much his story resonated with me until I kept mulling over the ending over and over again as I spent the following days spending time with friends during spring break.

While I’ve written about how much I appreciate all the friends I’ve made (especially my queer friends and concert friends), I hadn’t realized how their kindness not only changed me but also changed how I perceive myself.

A song I listened to a lot in Spring was “Violet” by LS Dunes. The main chorus of the song repeats the phrase: “You’re gonna get what you deserve.” For a long time, to me, that phrase has always been true to me. I always believed that everything bad that happened to me happened because I deserved it. Most importantly, I thought I deserved that sense of perpetual impermanence, to never feel safe and never feel like I can rely on anyone.

The perpetual impermanence was the worst when it came to my friendships. Growing up, I was so used to instability and mistreatment from friends, people from my hometown, and my parents. Because that was all I had ever known for 18 years, I thought I deserved it.

When I got to college, that belief still haunted me. Some days, it still does. My therapist often gets confused when I tell her how I want distance from my friends but also want to be so close that we’re inseparable. I told her about perpetual impermanence and how it manifests like object impermanence in my relationships; if I can’t see my friends or hear from them, then they don’t exist.

I’m so terrified that all the love I’ve been shown will disappear at any moment. And it wasn’t until spring break that I first really started to think about how the kindness I’ve been shown has helped me fight back against that belief.

This past spring break was the first time I truly felt like I had a break. I stayed over at my friend’s house with their family for a week and visited my other long-time friend for a few days. During that time, I also got in contact with some beloved concert friends and planned two road trips for the upcoming Glass Animals tours.

the cover of the album named after the song “violet”

For the first time in a long time, I felt really happy again. Compared to my rich classmates who went to places like the Bahamas or Paris for spring break, I didn’t do much, but I found joy in the mundane again. I’ve spent so long simply trying to survive that finding meaning in the little things has become such a privilege.

I found joy in going to the mall and shopping at Claire’s for matching necklaces with my best friends. I found joy in teaching my friend how to play Slapjack in a boba shop. I found joy in planning matching pineapple costumes with my friend who will be flying into my hometown to accompany me to a show in one of the cities I find it hard to be in.

To me, that was the best way I could’ve spent my spring break. I’m beyond grateful that, unlike Mickey 17, I didn’t have to die in order to learn how to live, in order to fight back against perpetual impermanence and find joy in just existing. I’m capable of love and change, and I’m starting to believe that I deserve it, that I deserve better than all the hurt and pain I’ve gone through.

If other people can love me and change me with their kindness, there’s a way for me to start being kind to myself, too.