Decision and Transformation

I rang in 2015 underneath a balcony of a twenty-plus year old nightclub, my best friends and I trying to find some breathing room in what felt like a crowd of a thousand people. We spent the first twenty minutes of the brand new year trying to avoid getting trampled, albeit when I look back it was somewhat funny having to crowd-surf in order to get down the stairs. We danced, helped ourselves to free cocktails, and met some pretty attractive men in the process. It very much a once in a blue-moon experience, especially on a holiday like New Years Eve.

I often tried to re-create it several times afterward, from birthday celebrations to weekend trips to Iowa City. It's not that it wasn't necessarily fun as it used to be, but it didn't feel as easy or as natural as it did nearly two years ago. I'd go with every intention of staying out late, but literally would be half asleep by midnight. Whenever weekend plans consisted of simply going to dinner and a movie, I'd start to wonder if I was limiting myself in some way:

Was this normal or acceptable for someone my age?

Would I miss out if I wasn't doing something crazy or adventurous?

Am I becoming a boring person because my interests and priorities are changing?

Some days are a yes, and others are a no.

I could talk about how lately the ideal Friday or Saturday night is a combination of catching up over drinks and then eating pizza and watching Netflix or DVR'd TV shows in sweats. I could say that maybe I'm more inclined to explore the nooks and crannies of my favorite concrete jungle as opposed to traveling the entire world. I'm not one for "dating all types" because I of not just what I want, but what I need in a relationship. If I went out with anyone and everyone, I'd be doing it for the wrong reasons.There's nothing wrong with seeking out substance, and I am becoming more comfortable with resting in the middle, as opposed to going to one extreme or the other. However, I have noticed traces of comparison and even jealousy, which leads me to believe that this is more of an identity issue than anything else.

This is nothing to be proud of, but some areas of my life have definitely been wrapped up in what I was "supposed" to do, or even what I "should" be doing right now. It's challenging to avoid being swayed by articles detailing the ideal post-grad working person, or habits that need to be broken by the time I'm twenty-five or thirty. Some of us mature faster, and some of us are late bloomers. It might take a lifetime to learn how to be productive, mentally tough, or loving toward ourselves and others. To put a timeline on anything is unrealistic, and eventually becomes more about people-pleasing than becoming a better person.

Self discovery often seems like a thirst-quencher after a major change or transition. It provides comfort and security in the midst of what seems like a big question mark of unknowns. The reality is that we never really "find" ourselves, because we're constantly changing and evolving. The only thing I can guarantee to be true about myself every single day is that I am a child of God, as well as a human being.

Maybe it's time to stop searching and start embracing what is in front of me, and what is within me.

It doesn't mean that I stop paying attention or go wherever the wind blows. When I'm in tune with who I am, I'm more likely to be truthful about the reasons behind why I'm doing something and to set myself back on course, if need be. There are things that I've done out of curiosity, but then they slowly turned into self-medication and numbing from what I didn't want to feel (or face). And no matter what I did to try and escape, it never worked. The real hurt came from the fact that I was refusing to love myself as God made me, and anchoring my heart and spirit in my faith rather than my actions.

It's a brick wall that I've run into on a number of occasions, mostly because every time I've tried to get back up, it was by my own strength alone. I know that I need to make some changes in my life, but this time I want to allow myself to be molded by truth, grace, encouragement, and hope instead of trying to do it all on my own.

If you want to call it a transformation of sorts, it is far from complete. It will always be present and always be in progress. This time around, I pray for one major difference: I need accountability, a person or couple of people who can check in with me every so often to see how I'm doing. Whatever this is, it has been a long time coming, and I'm tired of getting stuck in the same dark place on a repeated basis. 

I'm ready. I surrender. And I don't want to go back.

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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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Transparent Sanctuary

I wrote this while waiting for a church service to start last weekend; it was definitely a think-out-loud moment, as I've been working figuring out how to move forward, away from the craziness of the last year. It seems simplistic, self-explanatory, even; but that might be because starting over is a lot like learning how to walk again, especially if you've been stuck in an unhealthy way of living for a very long time.

Transparent Sanctuary

I am afraid

I’ve been so for thirteen years

Cowering in the corners

Of my mind

Allowing pictures of misconceptions

Stemming from past words spoken

I fear

Not being enough

Unable to meet the needs

Of a significant other, a lover

Leaving without warning

Already distanced from those

I've grown up with

I’m hesitant

To write

About my perspective

To acknowledge

The Reality

To express my truth

Of who I am

And what I’ve been through

For repercussions lurk around dark corners

I know

It’s not about me

What I did or haven’t done

Despite what I once believed

I’m not responsible for

The choices of others

I cannot bear blame

Or burden

For what’s out of my control

But the challenge is to let go

And leave what was alone

I want

To rise above my past

What is realistically, now only memories

To be vulnerable

Be comfortable with asking

For what I need

To share my life with those around me

Loving deeply, purely, honestly

And so it is

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Faith (In Moments)

“Where is your Hope tonight?”

The guitar chords began to strum faintly, signaling us to stand. I could feel the tears start to prickle at my eyes, the weight of the week threatening to overcome me. I was homesick, exhausted, and a little overwhelmed. It was my first time at camp ever, away from my parents, having all these experiences and emotions that I didn’t know what to do with.

My camp counselor leaned over and quietly asked if I wanted to go talk. Without a word, we both stood up and began making our way out of the makeshift sanctuary toward a nearby park. We sat down on the edge of a sandbox as I attempted to explain all that was going on in my thirteen year-old mind. 

She asked me if I wanted to know God, though I thought I knew him well enough from all the pleading and bargaining I did in the past. Part of the reason why I was on that trip in the first place was because of going to my neighbor’s youth group for the last six months. The pastor explained everything in a way that made more sense than multiple years of Catholic religious education ever could, and this whole week I could feel a deeper sense of longing. I wanted that connection, that wholeness that was discussed literally every single night, but I couldn't find the words.

“Alyx, you are a treasure, and God desperately wants you to know and understand that.”

I nodded and bowed my head, something deep down indicating that I had reached the end of my rope. I closed my eyes and prayed along with her, something that in various Christian circles is known as the Sinner’s Prayer. I recall that when I opened my eyes, the sun was shining almost blindingly through the Montana pine trees, and I seriously wondered if I was witnessing a supernatural phenomenon.

 I would not recognize the impact of that decision for a very long time, but in that moment I was just grateful to feel lighter, and actually have a smile on my face.

This past Monday marked ten years since that day. Ten life-changing, wonderful, awkward, painful, side-splitting, breath-taking, joyful, insightful years.

I look back on that time and can now admit that I had no idea what I was actually doing. Not that I didn’t want it or didn’t mean it; I had scars on my wrist and on my heart that needed healing. I had anger and self-hatred that was consuming my whole being, and continuing down that road would have killed me. That being said, I was young and hadn’t been raised with any particular set of beliefs, having to investigate and practice my faith on my own. When you’re only thirteen, fourteen years old, you can only grasp or comprehend so much.

As a teenager, I often equated my relationship with God to my relationship with church. Church was my safe haven, a place I could go to when school or life at home became too chaotic. If I understood the sermon, I understood God a little bit better. If I felt close with my friends at youth group, I felt close with God. We would go on weekend trips and experience a kind of “Jesus high”, then come back and lose it in the midst of every-day, real-life stuff. It was very surface-level, and on the outside it probably looked like I was doing everything for the wrong reasons. The next four years were like being tossed around in a tiny boat in the middle of violent storm: my parents’ marriage was collapsing, and I was using every ounce of emotional strength in me to hold onto the idea of my family that I had grown up with. Being a sensitive and observant person, I was more aware of the tension than I needed to be. I had very little self-confidence, and that definitely affected how I interacted with others.

My need to survive eclipsed a willingness to fully embrace and rest in God’s love.

Love and validation from family, friends, and peers seemed more tangible than eternal promises in heavily interpreted texts.

I knew that God loved me, but genuinely believing it was and has been a different story. And that has always been my struggle, causing me to chase after false hopes and depend on circumstances that had no guarantees.

When I went to college, I realized that church was slowly eclipsing God, and I did not want to relate to my creator based on a checklist, performance, or exclusiveness. That is another post for another time, but I stepped away from church for a while. I needed to learn how to separate the two, to measure myself by Grace instead of perfection.

There was no singular moment, no epiphany of sorts, but a lot of moments that I revisited on a regular basis. A lot of writing; poetry, journals, essays, questions. Praying for the anxiety to subside and the tears to dry.

I ran into walls multiple times over, reminding me that partying, boys, and climbing the career ladder was not going to give me what I needed.

And I knew deep down that I needed God; I always have and I always will. Knowing the challenges that I've faced, I can’t go through life just simply existing without some sort of foundation, an anchor that keeps me grounded. I want to seek Him in the midst of all the cacophony, without the fear of becoming hateful or judgmental. That’s why I’ve hesitated to immerse myself in my faith, because of what Christianity is associated with now a days. I have my own opinions about a variety of topics, but it’s easy to start second-guessing them when I hear enough people screaming and shouting about Truth and love and supposedly being right. It makes me want to run.

But I don’t want to run anymore, at least not for the sake of survival. If I’m going to run, it’s going to be towards something.

From the outside, I don’t always act like a Christian, and haven’t really been during this last year or so. I curse. I drink. I let my imagination go for joyrides. I’ve learned more toward anger and defensiveness than forgiveness.  I raise my voice (and am tempted to raise my fists), when I should be hitting my knees.

When I reflect on the last ten years, I’m honestly not sure how to feel. But when I think about now, and occasionally down the road, I want more than anything to just be healthy, free, and secure. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually. To not live inside my head anymore, but to live out what is on my heart; to be vulnerable, so that I can be reminded of who I am and why I’m here. That will take time, discipline, strength, gentleness, and accountability.  And perhaps it’s not necessarily about forcing myself to change, but allowing myself to be changed in the process. To be molded by the unseen, but still shrouded in love.

May the God of Hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

-Romans 15:13

Amen.

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For The Graduates

Dear Class of 2015,

Some would say that I'm not qualified to write this because it has only been a year since I graduated college. But a lot can (and does) happen within the span of one year, and I don't think it's about the number of years you've spent doing something as much as it is having something to offer. This time last year I was in your shoes, relieved to be nearly done with the semester but absolutely terrified of what loomed ahead. The anticipation was such an emotional roller coaster that I would be laughing and crying at the same time, carefree one minute, than a total mess over the inevitable ending of an amazing four years. It's perfectly normal to be doing those things, along with soaking in all the traditions, cheap drink nights, and so on as much as you possibly can. For almost all of you, Graduation Day will be the definition of bitter and sweet, where the amount of emotion can leave you overwhelmed by the time you take off your cap and gown. Make a point to celebrate, because not only did you get your diploma, but you had life-changing experiences and memories.

So what's next?

This is where it gets tricky, because at this point it literally is different for everyone. Some will move to new cities and start working right away, while others might have to return to their hometown roots in order to regroup and figure out which path to take. Some may take the next step in their romantic relationships, and some may choose to travel and cross things off their bucket lists. After college, very few friends are in the exact same place anymore, though it's likely they'll share the same emotions, fears, and uncertainties. Regardless of the exact circumstances, the transition from college to the real world is not easy, so allow yourself to cry and let it out when you feel the need to. Though you never really permanently adjust to adulthood due to it's own various stages, that doesn't make it any less important to be gentle with yourself. And as you move from one chapter to the next, please do yourself and your friends the honor of saying goodbye. It's hard and gut-wrenching, and no one is ever really "good" at it. But it will give you and the other person peace, as a way of acknowledging that you were here, you lived, and you did it together.

It's likely that in the months that follow, you'll feel somewhat lost and unsure of what to do, even if there are clear opportunities ahead. The transition for me was twofold; not only was I leaving behind a family that I had grown to love in cherish, but I was coming back to a family that was in the midst of a lot of changes in itself, much of which I didn't know what to do with. The hardest part was not getting a kind of support that I felt like I got at school, where I was accepted for being emotional, sensitive, and messy. Making friends can be a slow process; you might reconnect with those you lost touch with after high school. You might very well be in a place where you don't know anybody or aren't surrounded by very many twenty-somethings, and I'd say utilize technology to the best of your ability. Websites like meetup.com offer so many social and interest-related groups, even if it's just for the sake of getting out and being around people.

Yes, you're going to experience loneliness and nostalgia; you'll picture your former days in your head like a movie montage, yearning for it in a way that almost hurts. It's perfectly normal to want to go back, and I've gone back to Iowa several times in the last year. It really helped me to understand that it wasn't just the activities that made college what it was, but the people. And when you get to do something that has such a profound impact and transforms your life, it becomes part of you, and in a sense that place will always be your home. I promise that there are beautiful things about post-grad  that you'll come to appreciate, especially the little things. You'll be able to read for pleasure again, and hopefully have the chance to get a solid night of sleep. It is possible to go out and have fun without waking up with a hangover in the morning, and I've learned to enjoy activities like going to movies by myself or doing other things on my own.

As you grow and mature, you will have regrets. It's tough to look back and not beat yourself up over what you could have done differently, but remember that there are circumstances in which one can only know or do so much. If need be, apologize and ask for forgiveness, but also forgive yourself in order to move forward.

 While you'll never have anything completely figured out, it's important to be aware of the fact that anything you do (or don't do) from this point on is A.) completely up to you and B.) could very well affect or even change the course ahead. For most, there are no longer set points in time to start over; you have to be the one to create your own new beginnings, to decide what is true and right for you and what isn't. 

With that being said, please don't wait for the perfect job, the perfect person, or even the perfect time in order to start building your own life. Not just because perfection is non-existent, but because none of these aspects will fill you and make you whole. While it's true that that the initial path may be one of the most frustrating and depressing stages you'll go through (sometimes more than once), I whole-heartedly believe in the purpose of it. There was at least a month or two when I was going on multiple interviews at a time, and the concept of going out in the world and kicking ass was absolutely awesome. Yet, I started to notice that after a little bit I'd get cranky; I was trekking to the city and going through this lengthy process to not only get rejected, but for a short time it was all I was doing. Every disappointment was reminder that I couldn't put my joy or identity into my career, that only God could give me peace and contentment. General worldview aside, you are not defined by your relationship status or your income. You still matter, because everyone matters. 

Don't be afraid to ask for help, or accept help when it is offered. Realistically, none of us ever gets anywhere without the guidance and mentoring of someone else. Sometimes you have to pay your dues and bite the bullet for a little bit in order to get to where you want to be. A lot of people will want to give you unsolicited advice, and all I will say for that is to trust your instincts (which is true for just about everything) in terms of what needs to be taken to heart. Pursuing and doing what you love is one thing, but making time for people that you care about is another. Relationships truly do have to be intentional,  especially when additional aspects like work and finances are involved. While paying the bills helps one survive, quality time feeds the soul. Make plans and make memories, because the emails and messages will still be there. No, I'm not saying put one foot in and one foot out, because each requires both. It means understanding your limits and respecting them. 

Being excessively busy doesn't always equal success. We all have stuff to get done and it's important to stick to it, but I could never live with a constant, fully packed schedule to the point of being unavailable. If you think that's who you are, take a step back and ask yourself why.

Forget the lists that tell you what you should be doing at what age, or what you should have done by then. Traveling is a beautiful thing, but it's perfectly fine to put your finances first or to want to find the hidden gems closer to home. There are those that choose to get married because they have found someone they want to share their life with, and they are emotionally, spiritually, and financially ready to do so. There are those that choose to be single because they want to get to know themselves better or outside of a particular environment. Both are honorable choices and deserve to be respected, because it's really no one else's business. And some not-so-good habits are just part of people, regardless of how old they get. Sometimes you just have to compromise.

It's OK to do things simply because you want to, without any justification or explanation. God doesn't always give clear cut answers, and I'm guessing that's so we can learn to own and take responsibility for our decisions. 

But more then anything, this is the time to truly be yourself. One of the nice things about being outside a collegiate environment is that there is no longer a concrete way of doing things, especially when it comes to what kind of relationships you have and how you treat other people. I have always known deep down that I cannot be categorized or compartmentalized, but I didn't know how to live that out when it seemed like you had to be one thing or the other. There's so much talk about finding who you are or creating it, but I tend to think it's more about embracing it. To some degree a person knows their truth, but they never completely do because they're always changing and evolving as they go.

 Instead of walking around like you have something to prove, show that you have something to offer. Do what moves and inspires you, but also give as well; and when you give, give out of your own heart rather than obligation. 

The ending of college may seem like the end of the road, but trust me when I say that it's not. It is only the continuation of an already awesome story, a new chapter. Whatever you do, make it one worth telling.

You are strong and courageous. You can do hard things. 

Love always,

Alyx

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An Encouragement Drought

I've been noticing something lately, both in the online and offline spheres that has begun to bother me. I've seen it in blogs and articles, and unfortunately in my own circle. It's nothing new, but I've witnessed and experienced the sting of this negative trend, and I feel like I can't keep quiet anymore.

Regardless of the subject and regardless of the environment, it seems like all we do is criticize and focus on the bad, more than we encourage and focus on the good. What more, we'll make a list of everything that's wrong, but refuse to acknowledge that we have the ability to make a positive impact and change, if only it be a small ripple. We do this to our leaders, our neighbors, and even our loved ones, not even willing to admit that chances are we're only aware of one part of the story. We point fingers at each other instead of joining hands.

I am not exempt from this: in the months following graduating and leaving Iowa City, I lashed out at people, mostly family, as a way to protect myself. I had held a lot in for the sake of not being an inconvenience, and was tired of being made to think that my pain and struggle (particularly regarding my parents situation) didn't matter. Did the screaming and yelling out a list of grievances help matters? No. But I didn't want to be looked at or treated like a doormat. I was not wrong, but yet I was not right either. It was an act of desperation, one that wouldn't have been necessary had I recognized that I've always been strong enough to express myself, and that I didn't need the guarantee of a positive reaction to do it.

The conversation is not about eliminating criticism in and of itself; people need to be called out on when doing harm to others. Mistakes should be brought to light so that they can be rectified. There are times when a different, much more edifying path can be taken than the one a person is currently on. True criticism is when somebody is willing to balance out the strengths and the need for improvement. Real critics tell the truth and give direction, but they're firm and encouraging in the process. 

It appears that from observation (and my own experiences) that there is very little of that. That's why I have such a hard time talking about work-related and personal goals with certain people; it's not that I can't or am unwilling to have a conversation, but I have an acute sense of when a person is crossing the line from being a critic to a bully. My defenses go up because I refuse to be around someone who points out problems for the pure sake of doing so, rather than also offering suggestions or solutions. It's somewhat of a knee jerk reaction from my younger school days, where I would get picked on and emotionally shut down because I couldn't get them to back off. The sad part is that currently, this kind of exchange often happens with those who should be willing to say "I'm proud of you," and more than just at graduations or big life steps. 

Yes, I'm sensitive; part of it is due to my own nature, being a creative and having a responsibility to notice and experience things in the deepest way possible. The other part involves being told throughout my life that I needed to be better, stronger, more able, and without an equal amount of praise that I was already doing well. Now I'm in a place where I don't feel the need to be pushed or prodded, because I already do enough of that myself. 

There is no such thing as tough love, at least in the sense that it can be applied with such force and still have positive results. You can nag at, belittle, and yell at somebody and there's a chance that they can still grow and do something great with their lives. But let me tell you, that will not be without a hardened heart toward real love and beauty that surrounds them. It will not be without an inner struggle of agony, which could eventually lead to tragedy. I put up walls, and I have been at the brink several times. For those that don't believe in coddling, I get it. But far too many confuse coddling (a lack of boundaries and relying on fear) with real nourishment. People can still be leaders, innovators, and hard workers while still being compassionate and having a backbone.

It looks that way with the different generations, especially when it comes to older ones talking down to the younger (and the younger ones flipping the bird to the older). It's true that laziness, lack of motivation, and entitlement do exist, but that seems to relate less to age and more to personal history. Instead of using ageism and stereotyping as an excuse to put  everyone into a category, why not give each group a chance to learn from one another? We all have a story, and we all have something to offer. What might look like laziness may actually be someone trying to keep themselves sane, to feed themselves emotionally and spiritually in the midst of navigating the real world. I don't want to put my identity solely in my work, so I need to make time for God and friends and doing things that fill my soul. 

I want to build a career, yes, but I also want to build a life. With only so much physical and emotional energy in me, I have to rest and recharge. And I think that's true for everybody. 

There's a knowing that deep down, you can't force anybody to be outwardly loving, affirming, and a giver of grace. I don't want to simply lay down and accept that this is the way the world works, and convince myself that it's me versus whomever. There's hope in the idea of the way that we treat others does not completely reflect who we are, but what we choose to do. In addition, knowing that my God is for me, and because of that, baseless opinions should not matter.

There are days where I'm sure, and others where I have absolutely no idea. I can ignore the noise and simply nod my head without having to agree, but only so long before I want to collapse from exhaustion.

Sometimes the hardest thing is doing for yourself what you wish that some would do for you. It's being able to see past what you don't have and recognizing the abundance that's already there. Show the world who you are in confidence, regardless of who's watching and who isn't. Be willing to give, but be willing to accept what others have to give in return. You are strong and you can do this. 

Listen. Be willing to meet in the middle. Learn, build, and lift people up.

It's never too late to try.


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Life Lately: When You're Disappointed (and Maybe Even a Little Heartbroken)

Do I focus on the positive or the negative? The side embellished in sunshine and pretty colors, or the raw, deep and sometimes tear inducing stuff?

 That's a question that I'm sure all writers and bloggers alike ask themselves at some point or another. That's part of the reason why I haven't been posting for most of February, as this month has come at me in a way that I was not expecting, nor was I prepared for.

My birthday was overshadowed by the passing of my sweet Yellow Lab two days early; she'd wandered off and was hit by a car, and there was nothing more that could be done. Despite that she was closest to my brother out of everyone in my family, but the loss was still devastating. Knowing that she was pretty far up in her years, I knew that time was going to come sooner rather than later, but I believed that at the very least I would be able to say goodbye. However, this was not the case, and as it usually goes with any kind of upsetting or heartbreaking news, I found my mind going numb. All I wanted to do was curl up under the covers and cry.

And like most losses do, this caused me to start thinking about my choices and making the most of the time in front of me. That's why when one of my best friends invited me on a road trip to Nashville, I took her up on it. Granted it took some deliberating, but I ultimately made the decision because I wanted to do something different, and it's been on my list of cities to visit (along with San Diego and San Antonio). I'm in a place where I want to explore and try new things, and am now slowly building the means to do it. Unfortunately this trip was abruptly cancelled; and while I understand the reasoning behind it, it doesn't mean that I wasn't disappointed. It taught me that circumstances don't always result because they're supposed to; sometimes it's a result of poor planning or not thinking, and sometimes stuff just happens that no one has any control over. 

Life has been going at a pretty steady pace; I'm finally getting into a routine with work, exercise, and relaxation. But yet at times, I still get the sense that something is missing, whether it be excitement or being in community with others for more than one day a week. Though it has been a little over six months since I moved back, it's still very easy to get lonely out here. In the last week or so, I've realized that it's not business that keeps me going, but the intentional effort to feed my soul. In order to center myself spiritually, I'm making a point to start and end my day with God. Saturdays and Sundays will now be dedicated to creative writing and/or journaling, unless I'm in a place where I don't have access to my computer or a notebook. And though getting around is a bit of a challenge, I want to get involved in at least one or two meet-up groups or organizations.

But the one thing I miss most right now is the deep conversation, especially now that I'm more confident in who I am as a person, It's not so much for the lack of friends as it is less opportunities than there used to be. Granted there are plenty of phone calls and text messages, but it isn't quite the same as sitting face to face and observing their expression and emotion. I miss the no-holds-barred, no sugarcoating type of talks, and that's a big part of why I often send people unedited versions of my writing; maybe we don't always get to spend time together or catch up like we did in college, but at least they'll know what's on my heart. 

When all is said and done, I do feel like I'm out of my element, and not having access to what makes me feel alive all the time is still taking some getting used to. 

However, I'm grateful that places like that are only a bus ride or a train ride away, one which I'll be embarking on in a couple of hours. One extreme positive about post-grad life is that you really have to plan ahead if you want to make things happen, which I've always been a planner and have been for practically my whole life. And though various things haven't worked out like I thought they would, it has been all right in the long run. There's still a lot happening right in front of me, and there are plenty more adventures yet to come.

Unveiled

I wrote this back in October, feeling overwhelmed by having to adjust to a lot of difficult things at once. There was still getting used to not being in college anymore, facing some tough-to-swallow truths about myself, and maintaining motivation while trying to find a job. I desperately wanted to talk about all of it, but struggled nevertheless because all of closest friends seemed so far away, and I didn't know how to do it without maintaining that I was a strong person. It was one of those things where I knew one thing but didn't believe it, mainly because of what was ingrained in me for most of my life.

I had a vivid (and somewhat poetic) vision of what it would be like to be face-to-face with someone, my arms outstretched as if to say, "Here I am and this is me; love it or leave it." Initially I did have a certain person in mind when I wrote it, but it can easily be applied to anyone, or even God. 

Regardless of who sees it, I still intend to include it in the book that I'm writing. 

I’m sitting here with my head in my hands, wondering how much longer this could go on for. For the sake of needing a change, part of me longs to just disappear into the walls that surround us. Still I see you walking toward me, your footsteps quiet but intentional. I look up at you, transfixed by your eyes rather than my heart thudding against my chest; you look worried, yet determined. Taking your outstretched hand, I want to stand up, but the exhaustion won’t let me. I didn’t realize how much energy it took to hide, to ensure that only certain facets of me were seen and the rest were tucked away, only to be discovered by those who made an effort.

Without hesitation, you kneel down in front of me as a way to let me know that you’re fully present and willing to listen. You’re at my level and I am at yours.

I’ve envisioned this moment for so long, one that is terrifying and yet so desperately needed. Surrounded by a self-imposed desert of isolation, where my thirst can only be quenched by that of connection.

 You slowly pull my battered wrists away from my face. Open your eyes! It’s not a question or a command, but reality; self-protection hasn’t kept me all that safe like I thought it would, but actually held me hostage all these years.  I let those wrists splay against my knees, wrists that guarded against the heavy blows meant for my face. You gently trace your thumb over the patches of black and blue skin: I am here. You’re safe. You’re not alone.

I grimace at first, and as I start to speak I experience a burning sensation, like pouring peroxide over a bloodied wound. You must hurt first in order to heal. I’ve done this before, but something about it feels genuine and real this time around. I don’t know what language we’re speaking or what you’re seeing. You know my past and are aware of the present. The future is a different story, one more palpable with each passing moment. I giggle when an invisible touch of silk slides down my face and into my lap. Touching my cheeks, they feel raw and yet soft at the same time. I can feel the clouds lift from my soul, which is somehow giving me the strength to stand. It’s OK. I’ve got you.

We’re taking baby steps here, both with caution and one foot in front of the other. We’re holding onto one another, but not so tightly where moving becomes impossible. A mirror is now in front of us and I stop to look at my reflection. I’m laughing and I’m dancing. My sallow skin is replaced with a warm, natural glow. The bruises, faded but left in traces as a reminder that I am not a victim, but not necessarily a survivor either: I’m a warrior.

This is me. Not who I want to be. Not who I wish to be. I see a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. This is who I’ve always been. You’ve seen her. You’ve grown to care about her. You’ve always known.  It was more a matter of accepting her as myself.

We continue to walk. You’re not saving me, but rather allowing me to save myself.

We’re outside now, the sky a mixture of both rain and sunshine. Time has passed, a number of years that we both lost track of. It’s all right though, because we’re both where we need to be.

Yet before we go on, I have one request. That you let me take care of you too: that you may feel comfortable enough to show me the depths of your heart the way that I’ve shown mine. That you don’t shut me out or brush me off because of what society says is supposedly normal or correct. You’re not less of a person for crying or for getting pissed off at the world. It shows you have passion. It shows you care. It’s what makes you the kind of person I want to know and to keep growing with.

Because like it or not, we have each other now, and we’re in this together.

photo credit: P7120003-2 via photopin (license)

Rise and Rejoice

This Sunday, my twenty-third birthday will be the beginning of a decade marker for some incredibly significant events that took place in my life: Ten years ago I chose to walk with God, though it would take me a long time to understand what that meant.Ten years of friendships that may not be present at this moment, but are still a very important part of my history. Ten years since I fell into a ravine of self-hatred and depression, a direct result of the lies I believed about myself. A ravine that I can now say I feel like I have completely crawled out of and therefore raise my hands in victory.

You would think that I'd be sad and depressed over all of it, and admittedly I was throughout high school and college. I never acknowledged or celebrated any of it because I still felt overpowered and defined by it. It was a gaping reminder of what I no longer had, what I still wanted, and what I feared would never be again. But as I was writing last night, I realized that I never truly lost it; I still had the memories, and it made me realize later on that I'm still capable of having those experiences. Though twenty-three isn't culturally considered a milestone, it personally is for me.

I don't celebrate such significance because of what once was, but rather what it taught me. I no longer need the promise of a happy ending to start living out the story that has been written for me. Yes, some things were painful and could have been avoided, but one can only have so much self-awareness, especially at a young age. We don't really learn anything worth holding onto until we've tasted salty tears and felt our hearts hurt, even to the point of breaking. So do I regret my choices that long ago? No. And I try not to regret the choices that I made thinking that I could protect myself afterward. The only thing I know for sure is that what I thought kept me safe ended up holding me hostage, instead of setting me free.

But where does that personal freedom come from? Not from self alone, I've realized. It comes from the One that knitted us together with both strengths and weaknesses so that we may experience wholeness. It's choosing to embrace what we were created to do and what for, even if doing so feels like us against the rest of the world. Not that it should be an "us versus them" mentality, but it does feel like it at times. There will always be those who try to put me (and others) in a box; when people can't understand or it makes them uncomfortable, they fight it by feigning ignorance. 

But I don't have the energy or the time to worry about that. Not anymore

This is not a time of 'starting over' as it tends to be emphasized. I look at it as a continuation of what I've already been doing, but without the self-denial. There's definitely changing and growing over time, but I truly believe that the core of who a person is always remains the same. I've always been a woman with a child-like heart and who finds joy in the every-day mundane aspects of life. I will always be an  old soul with a sense of romantic optimism who is fascinated by human connection, and tries to see the best in everyone. 

It's interesting in regards to what happens you get out of the bubble, and life is no longer about papers during the week and cheap drinks on weekends. I've discovered that I am so much stronger than I thought I was capable of being, and that with God's help, I will somehow get to the other side. What seems so complicated really isn't, and the only reason it seems that way is because I was afraid of making the wrong choice and then getting hurt. Overall, when I embrace who I am and love myself in the process, everything else tends to come together as it should. 

And so I will rise; rise and continue leaning into Hope that whatever lies ahead is going to be awesome. I'm not a fan of lowering expectations, but rather being open to the possibilities. I have a vision, but I'm willing to allow that vision to take different shapes over the course of time. I strive to take action and get involved, because that's what living is. 

Here's to rising, to going all in, and being grateful for every moment of it.

Dreaming In Adversity

For those who dream to create, and for those who dream to create change.

Dreaming In Adversity

With a spark it starts

In the heart of those who those

Who see beyond their tired hands

The hands that have built fences of tradition

At best

Oppression at worst

With a vision it begins

Colors of possibility dancing on a blank canvas

Words of hope and faith darting across blank pages

The whisper of change runs through

Cracked walls, lifeless trees, and stale, bitter air

There is something more than just what you know

And the voice(s) rise

Getting louder as passion and urgency collide

Intertwining with a calling and creativity

Speak! Some say

Stand Up! Some respond

Follow, and then live

But

Chains remain

The chains of insecurity

And fear of not being enough

Of defeat

That weightless feeling in one’s stomach

In the midst of a freefall

Surrounded by the wind that screams

“This is the way it has always been!”

“Who are you to dare?”

But dare one shall to dream

If it means becoming

Creating what others couldn’t

Worthless! Useless! Failure!

The world points an unclean finger

Shooting flames of adversity

Jump, duck, run

Keep walking

For who can measure the strength of the tenacious spirit

Given by God to fight when needed?

Fight not to kill or win

But to claim and proclaim the gift of life

Because each one life matters

Walk through hell to get to heaven

Rest, be still, and know peace

If only in mind and not on streets

This is our victory

This is how we dream in adversity

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