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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When Love Came To Stay

Why is it so hard for you to love yourself?

I repeatedly ask myself this question as I look at my reflection in the mirror, which is now covered in “name tags,” or words and phrases that come together to form a definition about who we are. This exercise comes from an e-course that I’ve been involved with called Be You and Love It, allowing me to wrestle with my own identity, but to also experience wholeness in the process. I can honestly say that it has been a lifeline, and am beyond grateful for the woman who created it.

Yet the question still remains…why is it so hard?

From a general standpoint, self-love seems apathetic, as though you don’t care for anyone else around you. If you speak it outwardly, you’re either labeled as conceited, self-involved, or perhaps even bitchy. In some Christian circles, loving yourself is akin to not fully loving Jesus, or not putting Him above all else. And whether I’m looking at it from a spiritual standpoint or not, it seemed superficial and preachy; as though by following a particular formula, you’d somehow find the answer and instantly feel good. And I can’t stand that kind of sugar-coated thinking.

In my own experience, it has been challenging because I was never taught how to accept the way that God made me, to embrace my imperfections as opposed to trying to hide or change them. It’s possible that those who should have been examples didn’t know how to love themselves either, therefore passing it onto me.  And because certain messages where coming from those older than I (most of them were adults and family members), it didn’t occur to me that their views were only one perspective. Even after I became a Christian, that perspective often drowned out God’s Truth.

That’s exactly why it has taken me thirteen years to fully understand the concept; wherever I turned, there was always somebody telling me that I was not enough, and I felt like I never would be.

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I suppose I’ve been afraid to love myself because it seemed to indicate that I had to walk alone.

“Do what you can for yourself, so that you won’t need it from someone else.”

But real love isn’t independent, least of all from God. It’s a partnership, an equal partnership.

Self-love is hard work, and to espouse it means to be saturated in the love and Grace of God. That love pours out onto you, and you in turn pour that love into others.

If we can love others, why shouldn't we be able to do the same for ourselves? It doesn’t always have to involve making a list of personal attributes or reasons why we have worth. I’ve realized that love and acceptance isn’t just rooted in identity; it’s about what we do for ourselves as well. We need to do things that make us come alive because being ourselves is how we truly live. It means setting boundaries, because we know that we can only give so much before exhaustion and resentment sets in. It means recognizing that some relationships are for a lifetime, while others are for a season. It’s knowing when to keep fighting and when to surrender. It’s taking responsibility for our own actions and choices, but understanding that we’re not responsible for that of others.

 For me, it’s nourishing my inner child that adores Disney movies, laughing at random moments, and going on adventures. If I can’t do that, I withdraw.

If love is allowing another person to be human, then we must give our own person that same permission.  Permission to show up, mess up, and not stretch ourselves to where we’re trying too damn hard.

To love ourselves is to merely be ourselves.

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I did the name tag exercise after I wrote those words in my journal; I needed to be alone, without distraction and without needing to explain what I was doing. I used yellow for the “bad” thoughts/opinions, and orange for the “good” ones. I started sticking the yellow tags on my mirror, an instrumental version of Bruno Mars’ “Just the Way You Are” came on my iPad, followed by Taylor Swift’s “Shake it off.” I don’t usually pay attention to signs or symbolism, but something was happening and it brought tears to my eyes. These words, many of which had been stuck onto me over a decade by peers and others in a state frustration, stared at me like a tiger waiting to pounce.

The orange ones were composed of a much shorter list, and I felt rather indifferent as I wrote them out. It seemed cliché almost, as though I’d heard those words a thousand times before and they no longer meant anything. I knew they were true to some degree, but I’ve always struggled with actually believing them. I can tell the difference between a genuine compliment and being buttered up; it’s why I shudder and bristle when a random guy calls me “beautiful” or “sexy” instead of being flattered. It’s a matter of trust, mostly, as opposed to words themselves. I can trust someone that knows my heart and has seen me at my worst, but definitely not a slime ball who only wants to take me home for the night.

But as I looked at them, I kept thinking how none of those names, good or bad, actually define me. Some of them are opinions and some are flat out lies. Others are just reality, and there are even those that have actually become assets over time.

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It really is a journey, and one where I continue to grow and evolve, one day at a time. I accept that it is not a singular transformation, and there are days where I’m going to dislike who I see and wish that certain things were different, like the fact that I am deep and sensitive. I’m thankful for those who have been a positive influence, and continue to be as I experience different stages and transitions. I’ve been blessed to know some amazing men and women who exude a confidence and sense of self that I’m almost jealous of. But I’m getting there.

Love does not need a thousand reasons or adjectives, but a simple foundation that offers quiet strength. I will keep saying this until I run out of breath: I am a human being and a child of God, and I rest in that. 

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An Inward Love Letter

Write a letter to yourself as an offer of love and kindness. In other words, give yourself a great big hug. Afterward, make a point to discuss how you will do that in the upcoming year.

Dear Al, 

2014 has been an incredible year filled with small moments and huge accomplishments. But let's be honest, you're sitting here right now kind of exhausted, aren't you? You turned twenty-two, graduated from college, closed a chapter in life that you absolutely loved, and are now slowly but surely acclimating to being an adult. It's been a crazy journey and when you look back, you find yourself wishing that you had done more, said more, and ultimately been more of this or that. This is not the first nor the last time you'll hear it, but forgive yourself. Forgive yourself for what you didn't know. You did the best you could with what you had, and though it probably ruffled a few feathers and ended up on one or two ish-lists, you did good! If that wasn't true, you wouldn't be as self-aware or as wise as you are in this moment. 

This was the year that you finally began taking down the walls you built up as a young girl. It was brick by brick, piece by piece, and it was enough to allow the person on the other end to look into your eyes, but more importantly, they were able to look into your heart. Don't worry about projecting yourself in a certain way or what that person's reaction will be. And I get that you have a hard time letting people walk with you in the dark; you want them to remember the happy things about you, the fun memories, rather than the times you bared your soul or cried because you couldn't hold it in anymore. But honey, it's not your place to decide what anyone should think, because you can't control it. And chances are, they probably see in you what you haven't been able to see in yourself. You're kind. You're strong. You're loving. You have a sense of humor (albeit an offbeat one). More than anything, you have a heart. 

And a big heart at that, one with a lot to offer and a lot to give. Don't let personal and/or professional rejections make you believe that you're worthless, because that's far from the truth. Your career does not define you, nor do your relationships. You are a human being and a child of God, and that is what matters. You don't need a whole list of reasons to justify being enough. You'll probably make mistakes and you won't always do the right thing, but in no way does that mean you're less deserving of love and grace. 

Yes, sweetheart, make the upcoming year a year of grace. As you write your book and have hard and deep conversations, do not shy away from telling your story because it is messy. Embrace messy. Celebrate messy. Despite that it doesn't always make sense and it's tough to swallow, your story is one that needs to be told. Not just for the sake of moving someone else, but so that you can continue to set yourself free. Have the kindness of a lamb but the voice of a lion. 

This seems like a time of uncertainty, but realize that God is molding you and working in ways that you have yet to see. Take this time to continue learning how to love yourself and how to best love others, both as individuals and as those in the same tribe. Express happiness and joy in the best way that you know how, even if it means looking like a little kid or a goofball in the process. 

Remember that the only barriers are those that exist in your head. Seek to understand rather than seek out people to constantly understand you. You think that people are waiting for you to screw up, that they want to make you feel small and insecure on purpose. The fact of the matter is that in most situations, you are your own worst enemy. Those things come from THE enemy, and whatever comes from that is a boldfaced lie. 

You are fearfully and wonderfully made. Stop worrying about every little detail and hand over the paint brush every once in a while. You can paint a beautiful, breathtaking picture, but it's never a bad thing to ask for help. You are meant to have a helper, and you always do (though you don't always recognize it).

You are who you are for a reason. You will never have it completely figured out and that's OK. You have been through so much and have grown because of it. You have come a long way and that is a reason to give thanks. 

And that is how you love yourself. 

Keep shining Darling.

photo credit: Peggy2012CREATIVELENZ via photopin cc

On Beauty As A Feeling

When did you feel beautiful this year? Why? (Prompt credit: Project Reverb) 

It was my twenty-second birthday celebration, and I struggled with picking out something to wear for the occasion. I've never totally subscribed to the usual college beauty standard, which seems to involve showing as much skin as possible, wearing heels that you can barely walk in (at least by the end of the night), and applying a lot of make-up. After going as Audrey Hepburn that previous Halloween, I had taken a liking to the Old Hollywood Glamour look and wanted to somehow incorporate that. 

It resulted in this....

I felt beautiful because I felt sophisticated. I felt confident in the fact that I could dress up in order to simply feel good rather than to impress someone. Yes the neckline is low, the jewelry sparkles and I'm wearing somewhat dramatic eye make-up, but is it fair to assume that it's for the sake of attention? I preferred to see it as a sign that my standards of beauty (and personal style) were changing, and in a good way.

I did struggle with trying to dress fashionably while still being tasteful about it (and some will argue that I was hardly ever "tasteful" at all, but modesty is different for everyone). It was less about trying to prove that I was a better person and more about reflecting where I was at in life. I was getting older and naturally outgrowing certain things, particularly when it came to my clothing choices.

The same could be said for how I wore make-up. From my final years of high school until probably my junior year of college, it was all about partially smokey eye-shadow and piling on the eye-liner. Due to my oily skin, that typically resulted in looking like I had dirt all over my face by the end of the day/night. As the years went by I created different looks, mostly depending on the occasion but also my mood. The look in the picture above has gradually become one of my favorites, because it's both timeless and versatile. It's not always easy to do and I have days where the liner goes on unevenly and my eyelashes look clumpy, but I'm learning to be OK with that. 

And I'm not saying that I'm against my natural features, or that I don't appreciate articles, blogs, and so on that cater to embracing a bare face. There are days where I get bored with dolling myself up all the time, and I'd like to think that my skin needs a break every once in awhile. But let's be careful about pigeonholing those who do wear make-up a lot as people who are insecure or have something to hide. I happen to enjoy the creativity that goes into the process, and since I have a bit of a baby-face, there are circumstances that call for a little enhancing (such as a job interview or a formal event). In other words, it gives a little "oomph" to what I already have. 

That's my current definition of beauty, and I have no doubt that it will bend and change over the course of time. As long as it helps me to be the best person that I can be, than that's what matters.

Life Lately: Different Kinds of Light

Some days, this post-graduate chapter that I'm currently embarking on feels like this: 

Fresh. New. Vibrant and colorful. In a way that when I look around I think to myself, this world and this life is yours, darling. Make it happen! It's why I love mornings so much: to some people every sun rise is the same, but I honestly never know what I'm going to get as my make my thrice-weekly trek from the suburbs to the city. Somehow I manage to get this kinds of snapshots, either by luck or by knowing how to capture a beautiful moment when I see it. 

And that has served me well since moving back: despite not living with my parents and being away from my best friends (along with everything that I've come to know since I was eighteen), I can still confidently say that life is awesome. Life is awesome and God is good.

I love the environment that I'm in; it's not only healthy, but it gives me the space and ability to focus on both my goals and who I am as a person. My therapist is great and working with her has uncovered a lot of aspects about myself that I didn't know existed. Keeping a journal and having quiet time has done wonders, which is why I've come to cherish spending time alone. 

My relationships are getting stronger: through the discovery of FaceTime (I kind of find that a lot easier to use than Skype), I can keep in touch with friends and still actually see them, despite being hundreds. at times thousands of miles apart. I'm slowly building individual, adult connections with each of my parents; this past weekend was the first weekend I spent with them since August. 

I'm enjoying my internship and slowly making my way into the working world. I'm very much a city girl and every time I go there, part of me just lights up! I'm also getting involved in a church and connecting with other people, which has allowed a lot of spiritual growth and finding a sense of faith that I wasn't sure I was going to have again. 

And then there are days when life feels like this: 

Foggy. Unpredictable and filled with more unknowns than I can count. It's as though the world says You can do anything...as long as you have money. And not that money wasn't a concern before, as demonstrated by the student lones that need repaying. Despite that, I do not regret one dollar that I invested in the last four years; I learned a lot more that went above and beyond what was required to get my degree, and for that I make no apologies. 

Nor will I do so for saying that I miss college. It wasn't about the weekend fanfare or the difference in responsibilities, but about the community. It was about the beauty in the smallest of moments that have stayed with me to this very day, and probably will for the rest of my life. Those moments which in turn bore traditions, conversations, and friends that eventually became family. I'm grateful that I took the time to savor it, along with having the ability to do so. 

And I get that every transition comes with a variety of changes, but it still makes me wonder if such changes have to be so isolating. Why did one part of my life seem to be filled with magic and endless possibilities, while this one appears to come with an endless roll of red tape? I'm in the process of trying to do things for myself that will ultimately allow me to be somewhat independent without feeling like I'm constantly draining my bank account. Yet, it's as though whoever came up with those concepts made it purposefully difficult to get access to them. 

I'm growing. I'm learning. But I only have so much energy, emotionally or physically. It makes me wish (or beg) for my brain to be quiet at night so I can stop having nightmares. (More so, now that I know why I have them, I wish they would stop all together). If I had a choice I would fix myself up tomorrow and call it a day. I don't like being afraid to be vulnerable. I hate living in fear that trust will only result in abandonment. Greater is the fear that all of those things will keep me from truly experiencing life and love. I know that it breaks the hearts of friends and family members to see me like this: desperately trying to break out of a mold that has done more harm than good. A mold that started with the best of intentions but had completely different results.

I experience guilt for not going to church every Sunday since moving back. I genuinely want to connect and be involved, but yet I feel guilty about asking for rides or having to explain that I haven't quite found a groove yet. This definitely warrants its' own post, but going to church again is still a little scary. 

But wait...

Both of these images are different, yet one thing in common: they are filled with light. Some days reflect different shades, different colors, different seasons. Yet there is still light; and where there is light, there is hope. Hope that I don't have to wait on time to make life easier or better, but instead be able to rise above my circumstances and make healthy choices for myself. It frees me to fully trust in where God is taking me, though I don't really know where I'm going right now (Psalm 142: 3). 

This is the light that I not only see before me, but the kind that I pray that others will see in me. 

I envision being able to look back at this season in my life and not necessarily laugh, but realize there was a reason for it. What that reason is, I'm not trying to find out anytime soon. I'm content in waiting to see it when I'm meant to.

What I do know is that I am taken care of, and I will be OK.

My Favorite Self(ie)

Picture 

Post your favorite picture from 2013, self-portrait or otherwise (prompt credit: Kat McNally) 

I didn't know how the costume would turn out; I just wanted to dress up as Audrey Hepburn for Halloween. I already had a black dress and paid close attention to make-up tutorials. My friend did my hair and I managed to find a ten-dollar necklace and earring set. 

It was one of those times where I looked in the mirror and truly felt beautiful. Not because I chose something other than a skin-tight get-up, but because it was simple and yet it was also glamorous. It actually was the beginning of a change in how I do my make-up and how I've been trying to present myself as a little more sophisticated. 

One of my friends did the hair bun and supplied the fake pipe for this impromptu photo shoot. While the gloves and tiara are noticeably absent, I think I pulled off an "Audrey" well.