Sure, Knowing Joe is a satire. It pokes fun at society and all its sexual stigmas and stereotypes. Sex is absurd when you get right down to it, but at the heart of Knowing Joe is an Identity Crisis, which is far from absurd.
Our Girl isn’t a young girl. She isn’t trying to find herself. At 27, she knows who she is, and she knows who she wants to be, until she is confronted with something that makes her second guess her resolve on the issue of her own sexual identity.
Everyone second guesses themselves from time to time. It’s healthy to question your principles and beliefs every now and again. It’s healthy to question “normal.” It’s part of the growth process to ask, “Can I do something?” “Should I be doing something else?” When we question, we open our minds up to other possibilities. That might include the possibility to change or not to change.
I recently read an article on “The Midlife Crisis,” and an author quoted in the article had an interesting take on the subject matter: one that applies here to the Identity Crisis Girl experiences in Knowing Joe. The Author states:
The midlife crisis is created from addiction. Without addiction, it cannot exist.
Dr. Joe Dispenza, a neuroscientist and author of several books, including Breaking The Habit Of Being Yourself and You Are The Placebo, gives convincing evidence of the three addictions we all develop early in life long before we’re introduced to any harmful substances.
• Addiction to our bodies
• Addiction to our environment
• Addiction to the concept of time
In Knowing Joe, Girl has understood her identity as an a-sexual since she was a very young girl. She begins to question it at 27 years old when she stumbles upon a book she considers to be full of secrets. The idea that she might not have had all the knowledge she needed to fully analyze the issue at hand (sex) sends her into a full-blown panic attack, in which she fixates on an invented love interest in order to ground herself.
So how could such a confident, enlightened person lose their sense of self? Well, I think it goes straight back to the addictions listed above:
- Addiction to our bodies: The idea that our bodies are the foundation of our identity and the vehicle for the satisfaction we seek in life.
- Addiction to our environment: That being Society’s definition of normal and all the expectations that come with it.
- Addiction to the concept of time: The fallacy that old age strips us of our sexual identity and therefore diminishes the love we can feel, for ourselves and for others.
Of course, these concepts are all horse shit: Our bodies are not who we are. Satisfaction comes from doing not being. Society doesn’t have a backwards-assed clue about normal, and old age only increases the love we can give and receive because we have a better understanding of what love actually is after decades of struggling with it. Sex isn’t love. Inherently we know all this, but the need to feel “normal” is a powerful addiction that can send even the most enlightened person into a pit of despair. That’s where our Girl finds herself in Knowing Joe, so when I was trying to figure out how to approach telling the story, I felt that it was best to use a first person, stream of consciousness point of view so that her confusion, her struggle to validate her convictions, would be palpable on the page. She’s manic, rambling. Her thoughts are disjointed, and yet, there is a logical process as she plots her way through from point A to point B.
Anyone who has had an emotional crisis of any sort will understand that feeling: the wave of adrenalin that washes over you, the nausea, the sinking despair that feels like it’s pulling your stomach through your intestines. The racing heart and the racing mind as we fight to course correct. As we fight for the confidence to be able to say, “I Know Who I Am.”
When we attach our identities to temporary things, our identities, too, are temporary — and we find ourselves in a constant chase to reinvent ourselves.
In Knowing Joe, it takes an intervention to help Girl confront the addictions that sent her spiraling into an inner world of what-if fantasies. It takes true love and acceptance to help her understand that attraction is more fluid than it seems; that normal is subjective; that she is part of a new kind of sexual revolution, and that it’s ok to not want sex, in the moment or ever. Love and sex are not mutually exclusive, and through fits and fumbles, our Girl finally discovers that love is what you make of it.