Boxes


I try to put myself in a box. All the time. Everyday. There are so many boxes I try to squeeze myself into. They’re scattered all over my living room floor like an Amazon prime-shipping addict (also true). 

There’s the “occupations” or ways that I occupy my time: writer doodler actor producer boss manager business owner thinker critic performer improviser director seasonal entrepreneur trailblazer filmmaker person who still doesn’t get paid for her work etc. 

There’s the identities and perceptions: woman, woman of color, brown person (who still benefits on the colorism scale), muslim lady, why does everything have to be about race?, why? in general, skinny, etc.

There’s my personalities: dork shy fierce intense scary brooding thoughtful downer silly funny sequined reserved open closed bold ambitious fire…

And then there is me trying to pick a lane in myself. Trying to cut away parts of myself to conveniently explain myself. Trying to squeeze my big huge fabulous amazing-ass self into the tiniest most convenient box possible. 

So to myself, today, I say: you are already the box you were meant to be in: yourself. This is your skin, your body, your gifts, your human spectrum of good and evil, your mission, your life. The world has limiting ideas of and for you. But you are limitless in your own way. You will never fit in another person’s shadow or box or self. Please try to stop trying. And recycle those damn boxes for God’s sake.

I’m hosting #TodayIMet!

I’m excited to share that I’m hosting a new show called #TodayIMet, a conversation series that goes beyond small talk. It’s the first show Yumna Khan and I made for our company, Stranger Magic Productions.

In Episode 1, I speak with Linda Frost, my teammate from ImprovCity. Linda is fearless and bold, funny as hell, and the kind of person that makes me feel comfortable being human. We talk about falling in love at forty, gender expectations for growing up in the 40’s and 50’s, the importance of female friendships.

Throughout the conversation, I was humbled and surprised at how similar things are for women of all ages. My favorite quote from Linda was, “Be comfortable in your own skin. I’m still working on that, by the way. Just being able to say it isn’t the same as being able to do it.” 

I hope you enjoy Episode 1. Please do share your thoughts in the comments. I can’t wait to hear from you!

I’m in creative hibernation.

Nida Chowdhry, writer, blog, creative slump, writer’s block, existential dread, existential crisis, woe is me, what is my life amounting to, cartoon, doodle

I’ve been in a pretty negative funk lately. It’s not an uncommon phase. And occurs when I’m ‘in between’ things. Between projects and brewing what’s next. It’s an uncertain time and I am pretty hard on myself in these phases.

Looking back, these are times when I steep in feeling crappy about something, but that something leads me to figuring out my next steps. So it’s kind of like a winter. Just cold and sad and brutal, until I’m ready to… oh God, I’m going to make a pun: spring into action.

I was just washing some dishes, realizing that I think that people I deem to be successful don’t have these feelings. That they don’t experience negative emotions.

An Aha! moment. Continue reading “I’m in creative hibernation.”

My Pointless Pursuit of Perfection

Nida Chowdhry, writer, blog, perfectionism, writer’s block, voice, voicelessness, silence, claim your voice

It amazes me (in a non-incredulous, knowing way) how many pieces I have written here that I did not publish.

I thought for the longest time that I don’t have what it takes, the proclivity for prolificness, if I may be annoying in my words. I thought I didn’t have what it takes to write the kind of things I like reading.

Looking at this page, I’ve realized it’s not that. Continue reading “My Pointless Pursuit of Perfection”

Coming to terms with Fortnite

Fortnite-Shopping-Cart-966199

This is a tale in the vein of many tales before it; of people tolerating and/or hating Sunday night football and such things playing in their living room, while their significant other enjoys it.

The tale isn’t very long; it’s short.

And it’s that I now feign interest in Fortnite.

I can either avoid the living room while it’s played. Or grab a seat and watch the little doodad ride a shopping cart before the pink rays of darkness surround them.

There is some amusement to be found in watching another person be amused. Some love to be gained and bestowed in cheering on an avatar killing several other avatars, then robbing their logs and guns.

For what is life but short and sweet, and silly, too.

It doesn’t hurt to throw in a, “Wow!” “Really?” and “KILL THEM!!!!!!!!!!”

It works for basketball, too.

Is this real????


I often feel not real. Do you ever have those moments? I’ll be getting down on my knees to move a box and think, what are these arms? these legs? these wobbly limbs? are they really coming out of me? are they attached to me? what is me?(???) am I a humanoid? a robot processor mind attached to a series of images? What is all of this??? Sometimes (or once in a time) I’ll be in the middle of the ocean, looking at my hands, like. Is this real? Or is this a movie??? Am I real? Or am I someone else’s imagination? Am I my own imagination? Am I my ancestor’s imagination? Am I really my grandma??? Grandma, are you in there??? In… here?… is that you? Grandma?!?!?! WTF!!!!!!!!!!!!!