For The Complex Ones

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

Where do I go from here? 

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

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

 Be simple.

 Don’t make mountains out of molehills.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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We're All Human Here

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

We're all human here. 

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

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

Human. 

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

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

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

How do you love without putting up walls?

How do you acknowledge reality without wallowing in it? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-F. Scott Fitzgerald

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

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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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