When Lists Become Prayers

I have never been a huge fan of lists unless they involve groceries. I'm not one to use a variety sticky notes trying to keep track of everything that I need to do or a calendar of events, though perhaps I should. However, there are two kinds of lists that have become sacred to me; ones that I keep tucked away in my journal, and only speak of when asked.

During my last semester of school,  my therapist and I spent several sessions discussing what I wanted, specifically in a romantic relationship. She suggested coming up with at least six non-negotiables, something that I'd never given much thought to up until that point. I'd been told quite often that my expectations were too high, so I usually kept it at "I want a guy who is nice" (high school), and "I want a guy who is nice and will take me out on the weekends" (college). But I wasn't a child anymore, and if I wanted to find love, it was necessary to not just decide what I wanted, but what I needed as well. It felt refreshing to not only narrow down the important deal breakers, but to proclaim them on paper. Each time I buy a new journal I write them down again on the last few pages, even though by now they're pretty much stuck in my head. I probably should keep them posted on my bathroom mirror, especially in moments of loneliness where my values can easily take a backseat, or I feel like buying into the "twenty-something free-bird" mentality.

I've keep gratitude lists on and off since I was a teenager, but couldn't stay disciplined enough to do it every day. Sometimes the concept seems like one of those happy-go-lucky fads, a band-aid to put on when desperate to ignore reality. Yet, I've picked it back up again recently; instead of waiting until the end of the day and looking back, I record thankfulness as I experience it. I focus on the small, mundane things that don't seem worth being grateful for, but it helps me to recognize the beauty right in front of me as opposed to looking too far ahead or around me. For anyone who has read Ann Voskamp's 1,000 Gifts, it's very similar to her practice. I also took a bit of guiding from Soul Keeping, which my church did a series on about a year ago. 

Translating these practices to a communion with God is a work in progress. When I have my quiet time each morning, I experience the self-pressure to say things a certain way, to make sure that I balance gratitude with what is on my heart. Sometimes I cry when giving thanks, understanding at that moment how much I've been blessed with. 

And in terms of praying about relationships, that can be a tough one. I have moments where I almost don't know what to say, let alone how to say it. I toggle between praying about a person I have yet to meet, and wondering if I've already met him but the timing isn't quite right. More than anything, I don't pray about it often because I don't want to become obsessed or stressed over it. I don't want to use love is a bargaining chip (i.e. Lord if you give me an affection man, I won't curse like a sailor ever again!)

In my faith journey, I've been told that God created us so that He knows our words and thoughts, even before we say them. Realistically, there's no need to pray out loud if I don't feel moved to do so. I'm still getting used to the whole pray-like-you're-talking-to-a-friend formula. 

I think lists are like prayers because they often get to the heart of things, the bare bones of what we want and need. In hindsight, that's what God wants when we pray to him; no embellishments, no ancient language or ritual. Just what is. 

It seems very silly; almost as silly as saying, "and please let the Bears/Blackhawks/Hawkeyes/Cubs win, AMEN!!" But if that's how God made me, than why not welcome the cheesiness? Who says sacred can't be light-hearted and almost humorous?

Writing that stuff down (length aside) is a way of remembering. I want to look back. I want to remember. For the memories, no matter how painful, are the ultimate prayers. 

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When Tinder Isn't To Blame

A couple of weeks ago I came across the highly publicized Vanity Fair article, where the author highlights a so-called “dating apocalypse” due to apps like Tinder and the widespread hook-up culture. As a lot of people probably reacted, I was dismayed, even frustrated when I read it. Not because any of the scenarios presented were utterly  shocking, but that few seemed to truly enjoy the whole concept, yet resigned to the fact that we're stuck and just have to suck it up and smile. I could tell that the glaring problem wasn’t what the author was frequently indicating, but something much more indirect:

Hardly anyone likes it, but it is what it is, and you either make the best of it or risk being alone.

I’m not defending Tinder, nor am I dismissing it. I know several people who’ve found relationships through it and things seem to be going well. Yet out of the number of times I downloaded and used it, I typically deleted it within the span of a couple of months. It did become addicting, and eventually I became tired of waking up to sexually grotesque messages, and feeling pulled into conversations that didn’t reflect my personal character. There’s no doubt that dating is harder than it used to be, but it shouldn’t be to where you’re feeling degraded and cheap every time you try to have a simple conversation.

But it’s not the app that matters, or even rapidly changing technology. What bothers me is how people act like they no longer have free will because different avenues have become available and casual sex has become more prevalent. It seems like reality, but is actually just a mindset for refusing to take ownership of how you allow yourself to be treated.

It would be wonderful if more people were completely honest about what they want, who say what they mean and mean what they say.  But even that wouldn’t solve everything, and it is kind of silly to put your emotional well-being into the hands of someone else.

My question is, where does one person’s responsibility end and another’s begins?

I can’t control others’ actions or line of thinking, I can decide what I stand for and what I don’t. I want to be with a man who looks at me as God-created human being, an equal and a partner. If that’s not case, than sometimes the best way to stick up for myself is to walk away completely.

It’s not enough to just eliminate something and then blindly hope that the pieces will fall together. You have to set standards for yourself, as well as limits and boundaries. More so, it involves discipline, accountability, and commitment.

Taking a Step Back

There’s definitely a sense of magic when it comes to meeting someone new, and it is nice to feel hopeful about the possibilities. But at the end of the day, the most important relationships in my life are that with God and with myself, because they are the ones that I’m always guaranteed to have. It’s so easy to get swept up in the emotion and excitement of getting to know someone, and maybe even falling in love. At the same time, what once felt promising can turn into a vacuum of stress, where I nearly end up questioning everything and blame myself in the process. Recently, I’ve noticed that I become incredibly anxious when I feel like I don’t have some amount of control in certain situations, specifically when it comes to sticking up for myself or having the last word. When I can’t practice emotional, physical, or even spiritual self-care, that’s when I know to stop and reflect on what I’m doing. It might mean being more selective in who I go out with, or it might mean taking a break from dating all together.

It’s perfectly OK to just be single, and in a way where you’re not involved with anyone in any capacity. It’s imperative to make time to breathe, to get to know yourself or to re-discover who you are and what you want for your life. Real love is only healthy if it comes from within, and is poured out slowly and for the right reasons. And as selfish as this sounds, you can’t take care of anyone else if you don’t take care of yourself in the process.

Trusting Instincts

I’ve been blessed with strong instincts, but admittedly have not always followed them. I usually know within a couple of conversations (in person or otherwise) if I can envision something deeper or romantic. It’s hard to explain why exactly, but I suppose it relates to knowing myself really well, and being aware of what kind of personalities I mesh with versus what I don’t. More importantly, I know what I want and what I can give, so that’s definitely a tool in spotting red flags, or even just yellow ones.

The challenge is not getting stuck in something that’s unhealthy, and more so because I’m trying to give a guy the benefit of the doubt. I understand that no one is perfect and that everyone messes up; that being said, there is a difference between not being perfect and not making an effort. Doing something once is making a mistake, but repeated actions involve making a choice. And if he gets defensive because I called him out, that’s when I know it isn’t going to work. And sadly, once I realize that things are not going to get better, they usually don’t; it just ends up becoming this ridiculous cycle that results in emotional exhaustion and blocking somebody’s number.

Please, pay attention; pay attention to whether or not you’re being pursued, respected, heard, encouraged, protected, and whether or not your interest is allowing you to do the same for him/her. Even if it’s not serious or romantic, you’re still human and should have an open line of communication. If something feels off, it’s likely that it probably is, and you should get away as soon as possible.

Finding Support

From personal experience, I can say that one of my biggest regrets is not trusting my closest friends enough, telling them what I truly thought and felt. The first couple of weeks of my freshman year of college, I met a guy from a nearby dorm and developed a crush on him very quickly. I never told anyone that I liked him because I didn’t want the attention, and I thought it would be easier for me to deal with it alone if things went downhill. Needless to say that did happen, and I nearly became an emotional wreck because I held everything in, at least until I couldn’t anymore. I knew that he wasn’t good for me, and I didn’t want to hear it from anyone else.

The truth is hard to swallow, but necessary nonetheless. From friends both near and far, to family members and mentors, I’m beyond grateful to those who are willing to be a sounding board and to listen without judgement. I might need advice on how to handle a situation, or sometimes it’s nice to be affirmed that I’m not overly sensitive and that I do have a right to my feelings. 

The right support system is one that will tell you the truth, but will still love and be there for you nonetheless. They give advice when you need it, or affirm that you’re doing the right thing when faced with a difficult decision. They know how to celebrate while being level-headed, and they know how to comfort without complaining about how all men are jerks. They have a healthy attitude toward themselves and others, and recognize when to fight for something and when to move on.

I’m fascinated by how we all relate to one another, how our stories connect, and how we all have the ability to make an impact. We’ve gotten so caught up in the idea of love that we’ve forgotten what it means to be human: to be vulnerable, to show emotion, and to have a passion for something. The struggle is recognizing that no one can complete you, nor can they make all your pain go away.

Life is too precious and fragile to not be surrounded by what truly matters. The beauty of getting older is that I’ve realized that I don’t have the time or energy for "meeting up," late at night, or being referred to as something other than my name.  I don’t need the stress, the silence, or the wondering. I need someone who motivates me to be better, who pushes me toward God, and is willing to let me love him the way he loves me.

Has dating changed? Sure it has, and it will continue to do so as time goes on. But it's up to each one of us to determine what it will look like for our own lives, and I know which direction I'm going in.

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Friday Finds

The internet is such an interesting place in terms of how I experience community. In this last couple of weeks I came across some some incredible and thought-provoking articles, and I thought I would share them with you all. 

The wrong conversation about virginity  (via Mic) 

I didn't even notice this when I was watching the episode, but this article helped me to see just how many lies are out there about this kind of thing. It's sad at times, but it is definitely something worth pondering. 

How we look at singleness, and therefore look at God (via True Love Dates) 

This was so eye-opening for me; we so often buy into the lie that God wants to punish us or enjoys seeing us unhappy when the desire of a relationship (and perhaps marriage) goes unfulfilled. Her perspective is amazing!

The saving grace of Defensiveness and being flawed  (via Ten Thousand Places) 

I love this. SO MUCH. As someone who has been through the wringer in being told that I'm too (insert supposedly negative trait here), this resonated with me in a way that I had tears me in my eyes. 

Let It Begin With Me (via Momastery) 

So much emotion. Many feelings. Chilling, moving, and beautiful.

Burn The Candles (via Shauna Niequist) 

I am the kind of person that does this: that get's wonderful (and typically expensive) gifts that I'm afraid to use because I don't want to run out of it. I want to savor it as much as possible. Well, shelving isn't necessarily savoring. Don't wait for a special occasion; rather, create it.

Have a great weekend!!

photo credit: Danny Montemayor via photopin cc

Mud and Mess

Mud

Identify something muddy that kept reoccurring in 2013; what was the truth that was underneath once you washed yourself clean?

I had spent the week stressing out over midterms, and by Friday was in need of a drink (or two). It was my junior year and I had just turned twenty-one about a month prior, but was still getting used to a lot of the perks that came with it; not only could I buy my own alcohol, but I was able to legally be in a bar after ten o’clock and no longer feared getting in trouble. There was also a surge of confidence, particularly in terms of guys. I was slowly getting over an incident from the previous year and felt ready to embrace that men considered me attractive. On top of that, I had just cut my first love out of my life and had a huge hole in my heart. I didn't expect to find anybody because I was more focused on simply having a good time.

  The friend I was with that night had gone to talk to someone else, and I immediately hit the dance floor. It wasn't that of a typical dance club, but could still get a little crazy. I spotted a guy named Ryan who was in a class with me last semester, so I went over to him to say hello. Much to my surprise, he wasted no time in getting me to dance and I decided to just go with it. Before long before we were all over one another, and eventually he leaned in to kiss me. Without giving it much thought, I leaned in as well.

Though it was my very first kiss that I'd ever had, I certainly wasn't expecting fireworks. On the other hand, it was weird that I hadn't felt anything. My friends explained later on that the drinking had probably lowered my sensory levels, despite that I'd only had two the entire night. But in that moment I kind of threw my hands up and didn't really care. At least until he suggested that we go to the bathroom. In a bar. In a dirty, disgusting, you-don't-want-to-know-what's-on-the-floor bathroom of a bar. Now, it was typical for a guy to suggest that we go back to his dorm or apartment, and I was most definitely aware of the concept of public bathroom sex. But this was another first and I wasn't going to stick around to find out what he meant. The familiar feeling of being trapped started to set in, and I told him that I was leaving before grabbing my friend and not looking back until we'd made it to my place. 

As I related what had happened, I felt a sense of empowerment: I had done something because I wanted to and not because of what was expected of me. I didn't feel bad or ashamed because I was tired of waiting for a boyfriend or a fairy-tale moment. The majority of first kisses don't even come close to romantic, so it didn't seem to be a huge deal. But it's true when they say that once you start kissing, you don't want to stop. I would go down a path that was somewhat dangerous, but would also teach me a lot about who I am as a person. 

Which leads me to say that I didn't necessarily call it quits right then in there. There were a few more afterward, but it wasn't necessarily every single weekend. Most of the time it was just awkward, aside from the weekend after finals, where there were no expectations in terms of what meant what and I could just go home afterward. That was a rare occurrence though: the others were often forward, aggressive, or flat-out weird. I get that we live in a culture where anything goes, but some of the conversations I found myself having were just mind-boggling. 

On top of that, I was also in a season of dating, which wasn't going well at all. While these guys did want relationships, it seemed like it was only for the title and not because they genuinely liked me. I don't like it when people are clingy or in my face all the time; I'm not one who appreciates constant texting every single day, which most of them refused to understand. There were also those who'd recoil once they learned that I didn't have a ton of experience, which was frustrating. It wasn't that my parents were strict or that I was scared; it just didn't happen right away for me, which I'll get to momentarily. 

It was getting to where I was starting to hate what I was putting myself through, but I didn't want to miss out on anything. I thought that if I gave it time, it would get better. Once I met someone that I found truly physically attractive, then I would enjoy it. Never mind that I usually wound up in predicaments where I was damn lucky to get out unharmed, at least physically. Deep down, I resented that everything was based on assumption instead of communication. I usually felt like shit afterward and kept telling myself that I was done, but I'd constantly end up doing the same thing over and over again. 

It took a couple of months, but eventually I gathered the courage to admit to my friends just how much I was struggling. I thought that keeping everything to myself would make it easier to navigate; I wouldn't be bombarded with advice and various opinions regarding what I should and shouldn't do. Yet keeping my mouth shut ultimately made it worse because the constant thinking and lying to myself began to cloud my judgement. I needed help, but more importantly I needed accountability. 

As much as I believe in personal responsibility, I also stand in friends looking out for and taking care of one another, especially when there's alcohol involved. It's not that I needed a baby-sitter or someone to keep me under control; I'm a pretty independent person as it is and by that point had gotten pretty good at navigating the bar scene on my own. It's more that I needed to be reminded of the reality versus what was in my head. Perhaps it's the writer in me, but it's so easy for me to envision something that's completely different than what actually is. In my case, the guys I met while out on the town were more than likely not the type that I want to have a relationship with, no matter how much time or chance I give it. 

I honestly didn't become truly comfortable with all of that until I took a contemporary women's writers class, where we discussed the writings of modern-day binaries and problems that many women face. Hearing my classmates stories and viewpoints helped me understand that I wasn't the only one wrestling with these things. I wasn't the only one in the unnamed category between being a "innocent virgin" and a "trashy whore."

Simultaneously, it was also a blessing (and a relief) not to be condemned by the people that mattered: my closest friends and my parents. Mom would tell me to stop stressing out, saying that it wasn't a big deal because I'd never gone further than kissing. While that is true, why the comparison? What would I be if I had done that?

I think that I would be human. Just like everyone else, no matter what side of the line you're on.

It has not been an overnight process; with the help of loved ones and a therapist, I've set standards and boundaries that I remind myself to follow each and every day. Centering myself in my faith again has been a huge step, because so often we make a point in cutting out the negative, but not bringing in the positive. I feel like I've come to a place where I'm learning how to develop a healthy mindset when it comes to relationships and human sexuality. It's about staying true to my values, but also staying true to myself. And I'm still working on it.

I can't say that I completely regret going through that phase in my life. I'm not particularly proud of what I did, but I'm wearing a cloak of shame either. In terms of what I could have done differently, I wish I would have been more assertive: saying no to what I wasn't completely OK with, and being honest with myself when I realized how much it was hurting me emotionally. I realized that I can't enjoy being physical with someone unless I get to know them and feel a genuine connection between the two of us. And I can't imagine sharing that part of myself so early on, and on such a superficial level. 

I'm not going to advise people to just go out and do what they want, but I do identify with those that feel torn between cultural norms and personal values. Up until I got to college, I had no idea what it was like to be alone with a guy or go out on a date (unless you include my senior prom, which we went as friends). And while it's normal to be curious and want to figure that stuff out, I can't overemphasize how vital it is to be aware: once you realize that something isn't working for you, stop what you're doing and take a step back. Talk to a friend or relative who might know you better than you know yourself. Pray about it. Just don't assume that time is going to make it better or easier, because that's almost never the case.

For right now, I'm focusing on other aspects of my life. I'm definitely open to a relationship, but I want to be in a good place emotionally and spiritually when that time comes. I'm still learning what in means to put my identity and build a firm foundation in my Creator, rather than idolizing a person or a relational status. It will always be somewhat of a work in progress, but it's also a matter of getting to know someone who's confident  and willing to pursue me, both as a friend and a romantic interest. 

Some of you might be wondering why I wrote this; there's no big reveal or shocker, at least to those that know me well. Yet I felt the need to talk about it because it relates to a much bigger discussion: the demand of perfection and withholding of grace, especially in regards to current generations and dating. That's a subject that I would like to tackle more in this upcoming year, with the goal of not necessarily finding a balance, but maintaining it. More so that I've become passionate about the genders and how we all relate to each other. It's layered, but not as complicated as we've made it out to be.

Have happy (and safe!) New Year!

photo credit: David W Oliver via photopin cc