For Those Who Inspire (And Struggle with It)

You’re an inspiration.

You’ve probably heard this phrase a million times before, or at least a variation of it. There are days that you want to publicly declare that you’re not a role model, or maybe you already have. Perhaps it has come to a point where you feel like a fraud, doing one thing in front of hundred, if not thousands of people, and then be a completely different person behind closed doors. If you could, you would spend a few extra minutes explaining that you career or calling is not always the feel good, glamorous badassery that the media makes it out to be. You miss your family, and have probably missed out on some important moments. Maybe your body aches, and you feel like you’ve aged ten times faster than anyone who doesn’t do what you do.

Perhaps you don’t believe that you’ve done anything worth being praised for. You were just a kid with a dream who was bound and determined to make it happen. You had a story to tell, and one of the few reasons you’ve gotten to where you are is because you were brave enough to be yourself and tell the truth. Chances are, you wouldn’t be where you are if things had gone a little differently, or if you had gone in a slightly different direction. It’s amazing how even the small choices shape us, how in the moment they don’t seem very significant, but eventually come together for a much greater purpose than we can envision at that time.

Regardless of where you’re at, it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve grown tired of feeling like you have to live for everyone else. It’s all about good PR and making sure that you maintain a positive image. Or at least a cool image. And all you really want is just to be you again. Not the superstar or celebrity. Not the poster person for the cause you’re advocating for. Just you.

Expectations should be realistic on both sides, because at the end of the day you’re a human being and imperfect as the rest of us. But telling anyone to think a certain way doesn’t mean that they will; just as you can’t always control who sees you, can’t always control how they see you. Hero worship is most certainly dangerous, but when you’re a little kid or only know somebody through a specific lens, it’s tough to just shut that off.

So what then? How do you honor your fans, your audience, while staying true to yourself?

It’s simple, really: don’t take anything for granted.

When you can appreciate the fact that you’ve been given a gift, and therefore have had opportunities that others would literally sacrifice their livelihood for, everything else falls into place. You don’t have to try to be “good” or “squeaky clean” in order to make healthy choices. It’s fun to indulge in the finer things every once in a while, but excessive substance use or racking up conquests will only satisfy up to a certain point. While it’s true that you only live once, a single poor decision can shatter what you’ve spent your whole life working for.

No, you don’t necessarily owe the public anything, but remember that you didn’t get where you are today by your own sheer willpower. Whether it was your parents, coaches, mentors, teammates, peers, or co-workers, somebody played a role in your success. At the very least, you owe it to them to be the best you can be, and learn from your mistakes when you make them. You’re not above the rest of the world just because you get a bigger paycheck and a lot more attention.

 When all of this is said and done, what do you want to be remembered for?

 You always have a choice between acting like you’re invincible and living like you understand that you're not. The difference is in consequences.

Whether they know you personally or not, there are many who are rooting for you, praying for you, and ultimately want you to do well. Either you can complain about the pressure, or you can remember what really matters and put your energy toward that.

To start off with, the next time someone approaches you and tells you how much you mean to them, just smile and say, “thank you.” Leave it at that.

It’s enough, and so are you.

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Reckoning

Reckoning (For New Life)

See

Once broken down to the bones

By my history

Pain so intense, tunnel vision at an all-time high

Angry and defiant, desperate for influence

Screaming on the inside

Venturing to dark places for relief

Hear

Obvious feelings without the words to express them

Make for awkward conversation

Translating high expectations without the intention

Perceived discomfort leading to my taking responsibility

When supposedly rejected

Silence created stories in my head

To ease the dread of not having answers

Insecurity bred anxiety

Anxiety bred impulse

Out of character

I had become a stranger to my own self

It took a hard thing to give me pause

A conversation that became a dead reckoning

Distance and disconnection was tearing me apart

And tearing me away from those that meant the most

Know

That I was not myself

For over a year

Buried underneath resentment

Trapped in my own vengeful thoughts

Many moments where I questioned

Where bitterness rooted down

Why I built walls, instead of setting boundaries

Escaping to cope

But trapped all the while

Darkness does not go without remnants

Storms do not settle without aftermath

Many unknowns lie ahead

Fear of repetition peeks its head out of the shadows

At least every once in a while

I ask for forgiveness

For lashing out against loved ones

For clinging to false distractions

For being self-centered

Such actions and emotions were a disguise

As a longing for close relationships and intimacy

A desire to know and be known

But what I see now is the miracle of grace

Embracing the here and now

Who we are and where we’re at

Trusting in what we cannot predict

Believing not in forgetting, but in learning and loving

It is what it is

Let it be

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Music Monday-Modern Love Edition

No one's denying that love (and the way that it's expressed) has changed, but it doesn't have to be for the worst!

Die A Happy Man-Nelly cover

Hold Me Up-Conrad Sewell

I Met A Girl-William Michael Morgan

I Choose You-Sara Bareilles

Little Romance-Ingrid Michaelson 

Mirrors-Hunter Hayes cover

Have a great week!

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Of Boldness and Blunders

I’m declaring this the year of being bold, I wrote with only a few hours left of my twenty-fourth birthday. Of being bold and assertive. Of pursuing dreams until God closes the door. I want to build a life that has meaning, and that it will involve doing hard things and being uncomfortable.

Such a declaration was nothing close to an automatic miracle. Waking up the next morning, all I could think about was the fact that I’m near a quarter of a century old, and its way past the point of being time. I’ve wrested with selflessness versus taking charge of my needs and desires for most of my life; I’m not necessarily afraid of rejection itself, but more so the reasoning behind the rejection. It’s almost like I would rather live with the potential outcomes than face reality head on. As I’ve said previously, the possibility of getting what I want is a lot scarier than not doing so. It comes down to having more to lose, and not wanting to subconsciously take responsibility when I might not be at fault.

For a time I associated such a word with class and sophistication, combined with a take-no-prisoners attitude. I envisioned women in colored blazers with heels, flawless eyeliner and jangling jewelry. They’re the Beyoncé’s and the Taylors and the Lady Gaga’s of the world. Bold embodies the women I met when I was sixteen years old, and have looked up to since high school. It’s strange to say that I’ve never sensed that in my own being; I’ve more so identified as the shy one, the unsure one, the one who spends way too much time overthinking and preparing for the worst. I’ve hidden away and longed for more, and regretted it every time.

When I do step up, when I take a risk and go after something, I feel a lot better afterward. More confident. Free. No longer carrying a huge weight on my shoulders. Even if things don’t go way that I’d like them to, at least I can move forward and keep my anxiety levels down. It’s not always easy or comfortable, but it’s what I need to do it order to grow. It might be the writer in me, or it might just be the perfect time to begin tapping into who God made me to be.  

This newly lit fire in my heart is a tough one to explain, and the pieces will come together in their own time.  Based on past experiences, I’m well aware of the fact that I’m capable of taking risks, and making things happen one way or the other. I once stood in front of my entire seventh grade class and read a poem that launched my writing career. I went to both high school and college in completely unfamiliar territory, and wound up meeting a number of people that changed my life for the better. I don’t have to be an expert to understand that I have it in me, and that it’s more so a matter of manifesting that kind of courage on a regular basis.

Assertiveness has many definitions, but it boils down to keeping it simple and using your time wisely. Ask for whatever it is, without embellishment or justification. I’ve never heard anyone mentioned above try to explain themselves or hand out reasons like candy; they do what they do and don’t apologize for bringing up uncomfortable subjects. Bear in mind, it’s not always about the big and monumental that go the distance. God needs people to move mountains, but I can imagine that He has just as much of a need to tackle the small things as well. Never underestimate the power of a single voice, the determination of one, or the impact of what might look tiny, but has a lot of momentum behind it.

It’s what dark horses are made of.

Proclaiming it is one part, and living it out is another. I would rather let people make their own judgements and critiques, because trying to convince anyone to see from your point of view is like running on a hamster wheel. I go with the expectation of learning and evolving and becoming…nothing else. It takes patience and perseverance, but I’m confident that it can become second nature as time progresses. I’m sure I’ll stumble and shrink back into old habits, like waiting until the “right” moment or set of circumstances to take action. I’ll probably overthink and over-analyze until I’ve worn out my slippers, and I hope that my loved ones will hold me accountable for that.

Celebrating a general new year is great, because it’s where we can recognize that we’re all human and we long to make something of ourselves. But there’s something about birthdays that’s just as special; it’s a more intimate and personal way of starting over, of celebrating all that you are and where you’ve been. The choice to be bold is not necessarily about starting over, but a continuation of what has been in the making for close to ten years. I’m just digging a bit deeper, my voice is becoming a bit louder, and my self-image is becoming sharper. When I really think about it, I’ve haven’t accomplished anything without taking a chance, along with asking for and accepting help along the way.

Here’s to the bold ones: the ones that stand up, show up, and shine because they were created to do so. May our actions demonstrate our words, and our lives become testaments of strength and continuous butt-kicking. May we lead by example, making an effort to know and understand as much as we want to be known and understood. And here’s to the loneliness,beauty, determination, frustration, triumph, and all that comes with it.

At last.

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Friday Finds

The beauty in expressing what you need (via Verily Magazine)

I've struggled with being assertive, particularly as an adult. It's not that I'm afraid of hearing the word "no", but the possible reasons behind that specific kind of rejection. It's something that I'm currently working on, and want to get better at. Being an independent person has its perks, but I feel like I'm being true to myself where I'm able to share certain aspects of my life with another person.


Is "better" always best? (via Storyline)

I'm all for growth and self-improvement, but as someone who has spent most of her life trying to be "better" physically, and emotionally, and spiritually, it gets exhausting. When you feel like you're at a crossroads, ask yourself if getting better means growing into who God made you to be, or trying to twist yourself into who you think you should be.


God, cancer, and very few answers (via John Pavlovitz)

We lost several beloved entertainers to this monster in the span of one week. I've seen several family members and family friends go through the hell this disease creates, and battling it with every ounce of strength they have. I have cried tears, and I have cried out desperately. I can honestly say I don't know how I would feel or how I would deal with it if I ever heard those dreaded three words. Is God good? Yes. But does the fragility of life always feel good? No.

The words that can change your prayers (via Bronwyn Lea)

I never thought of including this in my morning quiet time, and it has made my prayer requests feel much more genuine as about to several minutes of listing out wants or needs.

Why perfection isn't a requirement for love (via Stephanie May Wilson)

All I can say is that her words are a gift, and I thank God for speaking through her when I need it most. 


Have a great weekend!!


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For The Complex Ones

We’re about halfway through January, the talks of “starting over” and “living better” still reverberating in our ears. Some of you might be on the other side of a defining moment or event, knowing that you can’t go back, but are stick in the uncertainty of moving forward. You’re aware that you’re made new, but unsure of  how to embrace what’s ahead without trying to block out what was (and probably still is) difficult to get over.

Where do I go from here? 

How do I let anyone love me while I’m still learning how to love myself?

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For most of our lives, we’ve all been fed some type of talk or teaching about the kind of people we should be, especially women:

 Be simple.

 Don’t make mountains out of molehills.

Do this, but don't do too much of that.

 The internet is constantly comparing one type to another, even if it is centered on praising what the rest turn up their noses at. In order to be deserving of romance, you must meet all these prerequisites, which seem to boil down to not having flaws, insecurities, or any kind of past that requires grace and patience.

When vulnerability is met with bristling and rejection, it’s common to resort to questioning and blaming ourselves. This is where the lines between truth and feelings become blurry, because what might look like reality could be all in your head.  It’s this kind of origami-like, hoop-jumping, obstacle course that makes having close relationships almost impossible. Intimacy seems foreign, because most of what you say and do has slowly become about the sake of someone else’s comfort. You don’t want to necessarily please or impress them, but you don’t want to push them away either. You’re trying to accept and love others as they are, but deep down you wonder if you’re sacrificing yourself, your own emotional well-being in the process.

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Complex and complicated are actually two vast different concepts, despite sounding similar. When labeling something complicated, it’s a way to deny what you know to be true, what you know must be done, but struggling to come up with the courage to acknowledge either one. Being complex is having multiple layers, a history filled with stories and experiences that maybe you don’t quite know what to do with. You’re not a victim, but you’re not merely a survivor either; by God’s grace and the skin of your own teeth, you’ve been through a lot and have come out the other side. It’s OK to not know right away, to leave a situation undefined and let the puzzle pieces come together on their own. Some days are peaceful, while others involve doing your best to hold it together. Life can be messy; it can be brutal, but it can be just as beautiful too.

It’s one thing to be captive, but it’s another thing entirely to go forth and be captivated.

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You can define, tailor, and project all you want, but intention does not necessarily affect perception. Keeping it surface level or “chill” does not mean you have control over anything; it will build up, it will come out, and most likely in a way that you didn’t envision or want. Stop trying to decide if someone can or should love you, and let them be the one to figure that out for themselves. There’s no formula or process for forging connection, and most likely you'll experience your share of slip-ups and moments that you wish you could take back.

 And if heaven forbid anyone run the other direction because you choose to be a human being, that’s their responsibility, not yours. Its tempting to cry out against the hypocrisy of saying that life is tough, because those that say it are often the ones too afraid to face their struggles, the pain that haunts them on a regular basis. 

You need people who will not only fall in love with your smile, but will just as equally love your scars.

We all have them, the things that add a bit of gray, even darkness to our existence. What labels some as simpletons depends on how they've dealt with it. They have memories, but they also have perspective and are at peace with what they can't change. 

It is possible to be both multi-faceted and whole, to go through hell and still find purpose. But it’s not a singular journey, or something that anyone can do without help. It’s true that you really aren’t the only one go through something, but if often feels that way because you think you’re the only one talking about it. I’ve been fortunate enough to find to find a tribe, people that know me well enough to affirm me and celebrate my quirks and complexities, but will still call me out on my bullshit when they see it. They’re an amazing support system, but they also remind of how just how strong a person I am, and that I can get through pretty much anything.

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Maybe instead of having to explain ourselves or constantly heed warnings toward those who cross our paths, we should just be. Be true to what you know and what you value, and leave the thorn-pruning to God. Let’s learn to see depth and complexity as a gift, rather than a curse that makes us outsiders or impossible to love.

It has taken me many years, but I’m warming up to the opportunity to be an example, to live fully in a world that is more inclined to gloss over and sugarcoat, rather than dig deep. I’ve been in the trenches of having to shine a light in darkness, and despite the time it will take, the risk is so worth the reward.

Even if that reward is getting to experience the freedom of simply no longer carrying the weight of a dire situation on your shoulders.  

It starts with acceptance, and honoring who you are. Perhaps one day, it will lead to love and celebration.

Thank you, Brad Paisley, for reminding us all that it's OK to carry a little thunder. 

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Music Monday

Over the last two months, I've been genuinely getting into instrumental or classical covers of contemporary music. Not only is it relaxing, but I also enjoy listening to it during any kind of writing session. Granted, I have plenty of other favorites, but this is just to start....

Love Story-Dallas String Quartet (Taylor Swift cover)

Just The Way You Are-The Piano Guys (Bruno Mars cover) 

Fact: This was the song that I was referring to in one of my most vulnerable posts to date.  

Black and Yellow-Josh Vietti (Whiz Kahlifa cover) 

Take Me To Church-Brooklyn Duo (Hozier cover)

Smells Like Teen Spirit-The Jingle Punks Hipster Orchestra (Nirvana Cover)

Have a great week!

All videos can be found on Youtube.

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A Sweet '16.

When something new begins, whether it be a chapter, a year, or an era, it all tends to happen very quickly. I woke up on the first day of 2016 with a little anxiety, eager to start doing things differently, but wondering if I would slip back into old patterns again in a matter of weeks. It has felt like a whirlwind, but in a good way: I'm revving up the engine for some endeavors and taking a step back from others. More than anything, I'm confident that this is where I'm supposed to be, and that the only way to go is to continue to go forward.

Sometimes moving forward requires a plan and sometimes it doesn't. I am literally taking it all one day at a time, my only goal being that I build stronger relationships, including with God and myself. 

This year, I am open to making peace with my past, and creating a brand new, and incredibly bright future. 

This year, I want to feel whole, I want to feel comfortable, and I wanted to feel loved. 

I will say no to being bullied, manipulated, and taking responsibility for others' actions and emotions. 

I'll know that I'm on the right track when I'm doing something that is a reflection of who I am; when I am acting in faith instead of fear. And when I slip up, I'll gently but firmly remind myself that I am strong, that I am a fighter, but also that I am human. 

In December 2016, I want to look back and say that I did hard things. That I took risks. That I chose not to hide, but instead honor the quirks and traits that God gave me. 

I am growing. I am learning. But most importantly, I'm being. 


How sweet it is.

We're All Human Here

It stirred in me as I read Brene Brown's, Rising Strong while on a CTA train to Chicago. In one of the chapters, she poses the question, what would happen if we chose to live life with the attitude that everyone is doing the best that they can? More recently, I came across a video talk by Marianne Williamson, who basically said that there is more substance in identifying with being like everyone else, (that we all have problems and insecurities), rather than our uniqueness. Sifting and meditating on these ideas, I kept coming back to one simple phrase: 

We're all human here. 

It's a common thread that binds us all, yet the one thread that seems to be ignored or forgotten the most. 

I knew it before December, and desperately wanted to shout it from the rooftops. To tell anyone and everyone with eyes and ears. My God, I just want to feel like a human being again. 

Human. 

I have not felt that way since I was ten years old; aware of it, yes, but I never completely allowed my spirit to rest in it. And now here I am, worn out from being a perfectionist, like an amateur attempting (and failing) at a complex Russian ballet routine. I've been constantly trying to defy expectations, to prove that I'm capable and enough. And I don't need to or want to. No one does.

It's a relief and terrifying at a the same time, like putting a target on my back and challenging the world to take its best shot. Critics and outside observers will always look for a reason to pounce, and vulnerability is often one of them. It's one of those things that has more questions than answers: 

How do you love yourself where you're at, while still striving to grow and improve?

How do you love without putting up walls?

How do you acknowledge reality without wallowing in it? 

How do you move forward in a way that doesn't turn into numbing/self-medication? 

How do you show grace and extend forgiveness without feeling like you're giving someone permission to hurt or take advantage of you? 

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But it's not just about me; if I'm going to give myself permission to be human, I have to be able to do the same for those around me as well. When I read that chapter in "Rising," I cringed because it sounded like such a bitch and a half to put into practice. A long time ago, my brother told me that people bullied and walked all over me because I allowed it, and so I developed a habit of fighting back (to the extreme) whenever I sensed anyone trying to do that. It is possible to set boundaries and still accept people for who they are. 

I've been learning that it's a lot easier to take something at face value than over-analyze and try to come up with stories to fill in the blanks. Distance and silence does not always mean that you or I have wronged someone else. It might have more to do with where that person is at and how they communicate. Regardless of what the truth of the matter is, none of us is responsible for the actions or choices of others. There is only so much anyone can give, and that goes both ways.  Even the ones who created us, bore us, and raised us have their limits. 

And as the saying goes, sometimes we expect certain thing from those we love, because we're willing to do the same for them. 

Not all battles are worth fighting, and they must be chosen wisely. Sometimes truth waits for opportunity, and being honest doesn't mean that the circumstances will change and/or automatically get better. 

On the other side, reality often trumps comfort, or at least it should. We may not want to hear it or acknowledge the pain, but if someone confides in you, consider it a blessing. We all need to vent at least once in a while, and will occasionally say things at the wrong time and without much of a filter. Don't worry about solving problems and focus on listening and just being present Life is tough, and that's exactly why every single one of us needs to quit running from it. 

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I can't say that I'm going into the coming year with warm fuzzies in my heart and confetti in my eyes. I'd like to think that being human means to literally take things one day at a time, to balance intention with allowing myself to be shaped by faith, truth, and love. I stopped making resolutions years ago because I didn't want to put my sense of joy and happiness onto a singular goal, or a list that in hindsight will be forgotten somewhere down the road. 

I refuse to be afraid of my own humanity, of living and breathing and being. I will savor the good moments and grit my teeth through the bad. I choose to not necessarily set expectations, but be open to the possibilities. 

For what it’s worth: it’s never too late or, in my case, too early to be whoever you want to be. There’s no time limit, stop whenever you want. You can change or stay the same, there are no rules to this thing. We can make the best or the worst of it. I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you’re proud of. If you find that you’re not, I hope you have the courage to start all over again.

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

 Cheers to a new year, new blessings, and whatever it may bring.

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Connection Complexion

If there was one thing I found myself starving for this past year, one thing I find myself needing the most in the coming year, it's connection. By nature, I am absolutely fascinated by people and what their stories are. I love getting to know a person, discovering what they're passionate about and what makes them tick. I consider myself both an introvert and extrovert, where I can appreciate solitude, but more lean toward togetherness. 

I didn't get to experience much of that, at least in ways where it felt like I was doing more than just surviving a really difficult season in my life. I felt closer to people that lived in different states or even different countries, and incredibly distant from immediate family or friends that lived in the next town over. I was insecure and scared, constantly torn between facing the reality of what I was going through and desperately wanting to move beyond all of it. I didn't know how to articulate what I needed, and didn't want to come across as selfish or inconsiderate. There were times where I didn't even know what I needed, if it was to talk about the matter at hand or to distract myself for a little bit. It was self-imposed pressure to choose between one extreme or the other. 

I held a lot of things in, and that festered into a pain so great that I couldn't see beyond it. As a result, I often shared parts of my story at the wrong time, (or at least what seemed like bad timing) or put my insecurities onto others. When someone didn't show up or get back to me about spending time together, I automatically blamed myself. Certain relationship experiences made me want to put up walls and close myself off for a while. I was so afraid that I barely went to church and at times had to force myself to go out and be social. It all came down to a very large and very bold-faced lie: 

I've been abandoned. I'm not wanted. And I'm definitely not lovable. 

How terrible and sad is that? It's no wonder how that attitude slowly turned me into a different person. 


That's not to say connection should, or has to involve baring your soul in front of people. One of my favorite memories from this past year took place when I went back to Iowa for homecoming weekend. I met up with one of my closest friends at a hole in the wall Mexican restaurant, and we basically spent the night drinking beer and margaritas, watching sports, and making fun of each other. I've never heard him curse so much in the time that we've known each other, and after midnight I was fighting to keep my eyes open because I didn't want it to end. 

It was unplanned, unexpected, and wonderful. Quality time should be intentional, but not totally manufactured in the sense that it could easily lead to disappointment. A lot of times I can just enjoying being with someone without having to carry on much of a conversation; a comfortable silence, as it's called. 

Connection, especially in today's culture, seems to have more questions than answers. I can't pretend that I understand why being busy has become a badge of honor, or why we do so much to the point of being unavailable. We're supposedly so attached to our cell phones, but yet I know more people that don't answer calls or respond to text messages. It's sad when they only way you know if someone is even alive is through updates and photos on Facebook, though that is better than nothing.

I've learned the hard way that most of the time, all you really can do is take it with a grain of salt. Life happens. Everyone goes through rough seasons, and it's not always about whether or not those of us on the other end did or said something wrong. I have friends where we can go weeks or months without speaking, but that doesn't mean we don't care about one another. The older you get, the more people you have to keep up with, and eventually we might have to choose who we want in our circle and who we don't. It's not personal, and it's not meant to be hurtful.

In light all of that, I've realized that the best connections I can make are with myself and with God. By standing firm in my identity, and having a keen sense of self-awareness, everything else kind of falls into place on it's own; interacting with others becomes easier, and there's a lot less fear and anxiety involved. I'm not choosing individualism over community, but I can't be dependent on people or circumstances to bring me joy and happiness. Change is constant, and while I can't control what happens, I can choose to be calm and trusting about all of it.

In hindsight, I do wish that I had been stronger, and had handled some things differently. I don't always know what the right thing is, and that's OK. There is no formula, but there is grace, forgiveness, and redemption. I choose that road, not just with others, but for myself as well.

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Unrecognizable

What surprised you this year?

I've been sitting here for a while, unsure of how to respond to this topic. There wasn't any one specific event or even a series of happenings that caught me off guard, but I won't say that this year was entirely predictable either. However, it's not what what has happened on the outside that has me taken aback, but how I've been responding and reacting to it inwardly.

I can't hide the fact that I've been an angry person, regardless of whether it was justified or not. Part of it did relate to my parents' situation, along with both my personal and professional lives looking nothing like I had envisioned  as time went on. I had a lot of outbursts, and each time I asked myself why the hell I'd get so worked up, since some of it had no bearing on me. It might have been something specific in the heat of the moment, but the cause went much deeper.

A few days after Thanksgiving, we all gathered at my mom's house to watch football and eat leftovers for the majority of the day. I was sitting on the couch and happened to overhear a conversation involving a subject that makes me uncomfortable at best, and has me seeing red at worst. It was like I had become The Hulk, except I had to shove down my feelings down and keep my mouth shut. And whenever I hold back, my defenses go up and I snap pretty easily.

Even after there were plenty of opportunities to talk, I was still crabby and stubborn. I cursed and cried and thought a lot of things that I wouldn't dare say out loud.

What on earth was wrong with me? 

Anger is healthy. Sadness is healthy. But eventually I began to grow tired of what was now becoming a ball and chain, and just wanted it to go away. Don't think, don't feel...just stop.

But I couldn't do that, at least not in the long run. I finally wrote it down it my journal:

When I can't express my feelings, I get cranky.
When I'm ashamed, I get defensive.
When I can't connect with other people, I get depressed.
And when I sense that anyone is trying to change me (or change how I feel), I lash out.

Who am I? What have I become? 

I would admit to my therapist a week later that I didn't recognize myself anymore, and that I didn't like what I saw. My heart was as hard and cold as it had ever been, and I often wanted to project a "Don't Mess With Me" attitude toward anyone I came into contact with. I've always had a bit of a rough and tumble side, a warrior spirit, which has kept me going through numerous surgeries and obstacles. However, my mindset was beginning to cross over to some pretty dark places, and I was a little afraid of where it would lead.

I'm not a controlling person, but I did wish that I had some influence over how everything was being handled. Though no longer a child, I resented not getting the kind of protection that kids usually have when their parents are splitting up. I was hurting not just because of what was happening, but because I felt like I couldn't be honest about it. I lost a large part of my identity, and had no clue what to do except sit there and grieve. These feelings dominated most of the summer, apart from wanting to escape from them. And despite was it looked like, I kept a lot to myself; most of my support system was from a distance, and I didn't want to risk the pain of trying to make everyone else understand my experience. 

Being stuck inside my own head made relationships somewhat difficult, and at this moment I'm wrestling with an interesting mixture of gratitude and regret. I'm not going to speak for anyone, but there are probably some that were upset by the way I acted. I can't imagine the kind of impression I made on those that I was just getting to know, and might have pushed away as a result. I'm not sure whether to apologize or simply say, "thank you" for being there when I was not in the best place. Maybe it's a balance of both.

There's freedom in taking a step back, in realizing that I can't be responsible for others' choices or happiness. I'll have to set boundaries when appropriate, and there are still triggers that need to be dealt with. But I feel a lot calmer now, a lot more at peace. It's all on a day by day basis, baby steps and then some.

And that's why I'm looking forward to starting over.

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Not-So-Hidden Magic

I've always had a child-like heart, a natural attraction toward the simple things and stories of make-believe and whimsy and wonder. I've held on to my inner ten year old for close to thirteen years, as I debated on how to nourish her while still allowing myself to grow and mature at the same time. But this past year has made me realize how important that is, regardless if people think I'm crazy, or need to "grow up" in order to be taken seriously. 

I'm not going to pretend that I know the in's and out's of sports, because a lot of it goes right over my head. I get nervous watching certain games to the point where I'm pacing around the room and beating my fist into my palm because I'm not sure what else to do. But when the Blackhawks won the Stanley Cup this past June, I literally felt like a little girl at Christmas; I was jumping up and down and giggling like crazy, forget the fact that I'm twenty-three years old. I do experience a sense of magic when I'm watching any Chicago sport, even if they're losing or the team isn't doing well at the time. My grandfather and I have started an official tradition of watching the games together, or sometimes I'll go to a bar if I feel like it. Nothing really beats yelling and cheering at the TV though; aside from exercise, how else am I going to let all that aggression out? Not to mention that hockey players are actually pretty nice to look at. 

As a creative, I'm not sure how I forgot about coloring books. I heard about the ones geared toward adults a while ago, and bought my first one that was on sale at Barnes and Noble around Halloween. It's really soothing to color while playing some kind of meditation or relaxation music in the background, and I need to put that into practice more often. 

I love affection, and I love people who feel the same way. This one is kind of self-explanatory....

The majority of my favorite childhood and family memories involve being near a body of water. When I went to South Carolina back in March, I hadn't been the ocean since I was sixteen. Even though the water was too cold to swim in, it still gave me a sense of peace, and a little nostalgia along with it. 

I firmly believe that you can never be too old for Disney; I gladly went out and bought the Blue-ray combo pack of Aladdin after waiting what felt like a decade for it to be released again. I watched a special celebrating the twentieth anniversary of Toy Story with a glass of wine in hand and am currently geeking out of the anticipation of seeing the new Star Wars movie. My mom and I have a running joke that I'm going to get married at Disney World, and I will say that I'm a bit overdue for a trip. 

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I still love listening to boy-bands on Pandora or Spotify, and the city of Chicago has become like a bit of a playground for me as I've visited different neighborhoods and met a ton of people in the process. I can still eat ice cream faster than anything that's actually healthy. I kind of miss going to theme parks, even though riding roller-coasters tend to make me queasy now. 

It might look like a coping mechanism, but deep down these things are just part of who I am. When it comes down to it, embracing this side of myself is what makes me feel alive. There's nothing inherently wrong with that, especially that we now live in a world that becomes more dangerous and cynical with each passing day. Life is not having to choose between what's beautiful and what's reality, but a balance of the two. 

Someone once asked me what happened to the happy little girl that I used to be; I can now say with confidence that she's re-emerging, albeit ever-so-slowly. I'm thankful for those who are willing to appreciate and celebrate such things without making me feel like an idiot or bad about it. And yes, any man who wants to be with me must be able to bring out that side of me as well, and honor it. 

If it's now socially acceptable for kids to grow up too fast now a days, why can't adults incorporate the other aspect into their daily lives? If it makes you light up, then it shouldn't be ignored, regardless of how old you are. That kind of magic should not be hidden, because it's the kind that teaches us how to fall in love with life.