Yes, There Has Been a Communication Breakdown

Day 2-What I am Afraid To Do
The other terror that scares us from self-trust is our consistency; a reverence for our past act or word, because the eyes of others have no other data for computing our orbit than our past acts, and we are loath to disappoint them. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Emerson says: “Always do what you are afraid to do.” What is ‘too scary’ to write about? Try doing it now.

I've been debating for the last forty-five minutes in regards to what I should write about; No, it's not that I can't come up with an idea, because I always have something in my head. It's just that when I'm thinking about multiple things, I become indecisive. In this case, it's more of "do I write about the topic that that's considered 'happy'? Or 'not happy'?" 

Yet, this has been swimming around in my mind for a good amount of time. It does scare me to talk about it, being that it is one of my weaknesses and I am slightly afraid of how those that read my blog will react to it. If nothing else, at least I can get it off my chest. 

I have always been one to tell people, (especially friends) that if they have a problem with me or I do something hurtful toward them, to come and talk to me about it. Little did I know how hard those words would hit me straight in the face, mostly in the last couple of months. 

I've never been good at going to someone personally and telling it like it is, whether it be about them or not. There have been times where I have confided in someone, only to be told that it is wrong to feel the way that I do, or that those feelings are just a product of my imagination. Most of the time though, it's because I don't want to blow a situation out of proportion, nor do I like arguing or yelling. Hence, I normally choose not to bring it up and hope that the passage of time itself will smooth things over. 


My biggest fear is not having the ability to find the right words, but rather how the person will take it. Not very many people like or appreciate being confronted (even if that's not how the talker is intending to do it, which I'll get to later), so it's only natural for anyone on the other side to feel defensive. There is a chance that one might say "You're being so selfish; you don't understand that I have my own life to deal with. I feel like you expect too much from me." 


And while I'm not one hundred percent perfect at it, I do my best to be understanding of various situations. I understand that some work a lot and/or take  classes, so either one or both of those things take up a lot of their time. I understand that sometimes things come up where one has to cancel on another and reschedule whatever they're doing. I understand that technology is a pain, and that sometimes people just simply forget (or get drunk beforehand and forget because they're drunk). I understand that people are human, as am I.


But even though I do what I can to put myself in others' shoes, is it so wrong to feel somewhat neglected, or at least forgotten? If nothing else, is it wrong to want to be acknowledged and to at least know that that person is thinking of you? 


I understand that there are circumstances where one should simply dust the dirt off their shoulders and keep going. But if something happens repeatedly or on a regular basis (in other words, it becomes a cycle) then I definitely think it's an issue that needs to be addressed.  If it's not addressed and the cycle keeps going on and on, there will come a point where the roof will cave in, so to speak. 


I've said this before, but I am not particularly good at verbal communication, which is also partially the reason why I write as well as why I blog. However, there are times when talking to someone personally is most effective. It all depends on the way one goes about it. 


Let whomever you're talking to know right away that you're not out to attack them-It's important to let the person know that what they're doing to you isn't OK, but you don't want them to get angry in return so that they won't listen to what you're saying. Be firm and let them know that you're not taking any BS, but do your best not to become angry to the point where hurtful words can possibly start flying. 


Explain how you feel, but also acknowledge that you're also doing your best to try and see things from their perspective-This shows that not only are you trying to be honest with them, but you're also thinking about how they feel as well. 


Ask them if they understand what you're saying, and then allow them to explain their side-I've said this previously, but sometimes a situation can look like a notebook; one person sees the lined paper side, and the other sees the plain side. You're not only communicating with them so that they know how you feel, but it's important to take into account how the other person/people feel too. 


What the other person/people can do...


Listen-it's a very simple thing, really. Just listen to what they have to say, without interrupting. It may be hard to hear, but regardless if their view is justified or not, it is how they feel. And if you genuinely care about whomever is telling you these things, then you should care about their feelings. 


Make sure you completely understand what the person is telling you, and if not, ask for clarification-The conversation will be pointless if one or both persons walk away asking  "what did he/she mean by that?"


What can be done by both...


Keep Talking-it might be hard to get together because of work, school, etc. but that doesn't mean that you still can't be involved in each other's lives. Keep each other accountable for bad habits or pet peeves toward one another. 


But most of all, be patient...especially if either one or both people isn't used to being so open and honest. 


I realize that I sound like I have it all figured out, but I don't. I only just started doing this, and it has mostly been with my Mom. It may sound like common sense, but it actually takes a lot of work and patience. 


I've heard of marriages crumbling because the couple didn't know how to talk to each other and meet each other's needs. There have been friendships in my life that have died because I didn't immediately go to them and tell them how I felt about a situation; instead I let it sit and boil over, or I would talk someone else and eventually it would get back to that friend. I currently have friendships that don't have a lot of life in them because I haven't been talking to them, which for certain people is something that I used to be completely comfortable with doing. 


I may not be able to change the past, but I certainly don't want this fear of mine to shape my future.

Five Years Back and Five Years Forward

I am now starting a new blogging project, entitled Trust30, based on the re-issuing of Ralph Waldo Emerson's book, "Self Reliance." For thirty days (either on a Monday or a Friday), I will post a blog based on each prompt that is e-mailed to me. I would like to split it up a little bit and still continue to write about my own topics though, so this type of post will mostly likely take place on a Friday. 


Day 1-Five Years

There will be an agreement in whatever variety of actions, so they be each honest and natural in their hour. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

What would you say to the person you were five years ago? What will you say to the person you’ll be in five years?

Five years ago, I was fourteen. 


Dear Fourteen year-old Self, 


You're at a time in your life when things are a mixture of good and bad. On one hand, you have realized that you cannot do everything on your own (a lesson you will learn repeatedly in the next five years) and have allowed others to help carry those burdens that have been weighing on your shoulders for the last year and a half. You're very much involved with your church and youth group and it is having such a positive impact on your life. And above all us, you finally feel like you have friends that genuinely love you exactly as you are. 


But on the other hand, life isn't still as bright and full of sunshine as you would like it to be. School is tough because you're still dealing with everything that happened the year before. You're carrying a lot of anger toward many people: you're angry at friends who really have not been your friends. Forgive them and let them go; if they're meant to be in your life, they will continue to do so. But there are other beautiful people around you that want to hang out with you and want to be there for you, but you don't notice because you're so busy focusing on people that don't really matter. 


I know that life at home is still difficult. It seems like Mom and Dad don't understand how you're feeling, because it doesn't seem like they want to hear what you have to say. That is partially true, but you have to understand that parents can only do so much to protect their kids from all the crap that goes on in the world. You may not realize this right now, but you and your siblings are the center of your Mother's universe. I'm sure if she was able to do it, she would have shut those girls up one way or the other. That's why she and your Dad will push you to attend a private high school versus a public high school


It won't happen for awhile (more like the summer before your sophomore year of college), but you and Mom will eventually talk about it. You will talk about a lot of things that you are terrified to talk about right now at this time. Until then, talk to the people that do understand. 


Speaking of which, it's perfectly fine to be completely comfortable with sharing details with certain friends that you would never share with anyone else. There is one person, possibly two people whom you'll see in that way. They're wonderful and you're blessed to have them. But unfortunately, you're going to take them for granted, despite the fact that you won't realize it then and there. Stop bitching to them about the small stuff and ask "How are YOU doing today?" There will come a point where the gravity of what they're dealing with will hit you square in the face; not now obviously, but a couple years down the road. 


In general, darling, you're going to be a late bloomer in certain areas. Do not feel bad about it, because everything has its moment. Not everybody "peaks" in middle school, or even high school for that matter. You will become the woman that you're meant to become when you get older. 

An Interesting Question

I have been, and still am occasionally told that I am "mature for my age", wise beyond my years", etc. As of right now, I don't really believe that, because I think it's very much based on perception and not necessarily a fact. It kind of puts me into a category (which I'm not a fan of) as well as continue to give young generations a bad reputation.


In a way, I do understand that it's a compliment; it's saying that I live my life in a positive manner and it's something that makes me unique. Yet, I don't know if I'm at a point where I can embrace it rather than reject it.


There are quite a few reasons pertaining to why I consider it a gray area. After talking with my Mom, I asked myself Would certain things have happened already, had I not been living with this particular and advanced mindset? To put it in simpler terms, would my life be any different if I had spent most, if not all of it "acting my age"?


In order to figure that out, it's important to go back to where it all started.


From the time I was a little girl, I always wanted to be older: when I was five, I wanted to be ten. When I was ten, I wanted to be fourteen. And when I was fourteen, I wanted to be eighteen. My mind was always a certain number of years ahead of where I was supposed to be. And I think that was because I was frequently around adults. Even when I became a teenager, I was always gravitating toward those that were older than me.


The other thing that probably has been playing a key role is the concept of self-reliance. As I've said in previous blog entries, the time when I was twelve/thirteen was a rainstorm.  Even though now I know that it was hard for others because they didn't know what to say or do to make it better. But during that time period, I learned to accept that I was alone.


 For a long time,I depended on my own strength in order to get through it. The one positive element in all of it is that made an impact in regards to how I treat people, and that it's important to really get to know someone before making judgments against them.


The walls came down for a little bit from eighth grade until my senior year of high school, when I was very much involved with my church; I openly discussed what I was struggling with at the time, and felt as though I had a strong sense of spiritual direction in ,my life.


Upon my high school graduation, the walls sort of came up again, but for different reasons and in different ways. It wasn't because I didn't think anybody understood me or that I was going through a difficult time, but rather because I figured that I was becoming an independent adult and that's what adults were "supposed" to do. In other words, I rarely talked about the fact that I had cerebral palsy, I stopped asking for help (and hugs, for that matter) and I frequently pretended that things didn't bother me when it was the exact opposite.


At the time, I didn't necessarily think it was a terrible thing to do. I didn't want pity from anyone or to make them feel obligated to take care of me. The biggest thing was that I didn't want to cause any drama (especially with the guys).


Yet, what I tried to project as maturity probably was taken as a free pass to walk all over me. And you know what? That isn't OK. Sure, there are times when one shouldn't sweat the small stuff. On the other hand, there are also circumstances where a person needs to be told that what they did was hurtful. The tricky aspect is knowing when to speak up or when to let go.


In the midst of all that, I saw that I wasn't taking care of myself, and that I had needs that I wasn't fulfilling out of fear of what my peers would think.


I guess the one thing I worry about is not necessarily coming across as older, but rather appearing/seeming intimidating to others, for whatever reason. To be honest, I don't understand how that would even happen. I consider myself to be friendly and easily approachable. Then again, it's like looking at two different sides of a notebook: one side is some sort of color or design, and the backside is plain brown. What I see may not be what others see.


There's a part of me that thinks that it has a lot to do with the fact that I have a blog; that people may think that what I blog about reflects how I am in person. In a lot of ways, that is not true. I don't use big words in normal conversation, I don't have heart-to-heart's all the time, and I'm not as deep as I appear to be in my writing. My speaking voice and my writing voice both have a lot to do with my personality, but they're not the same thing.


Yet when all is said and done, I've discovered that I do genuinely appreciate my attitude and the way I live my life. Sure, it might be a little odd that I take comfort in watching TV shows like Extreme Make-Over: Home Edition or Oprah, (technically OWN now) but those are things that help me to grow as a person and keep life in perspective. 


Overall, if something helps or allows one to become a better person because of that element in their life, then what is there to be ashamed of? The better question would be, why should they be ashamed of it?


Maturity is something that I am currently thankful before due to the way that I am now communicating with my parents (well, my Mom at least. It will take some time with Dad). When I was in high school and for most of my freshman year of college, I usually never let them in on what was going on in my life. But now that I am becoming an adult, it has enabled me to sit down with them and say "this is how I feel and this is what I think." It's not an easy thing to do all the time, but it's a start. 


And that is something that I hope to do with my friends. There have been circumstances both in the past and present where I haven't exactly spoken up about it out of not knowing how to approach them or fear that they weren't going to take it very well. But now that we're getting older, I hope it's something we'll both become comfortable with, in terms of things that need to be talked about. 


After writing all of this, I now see that it's something that I have to deal with through whatever each day brings. Every person evolves differently and does so in there own time. I have finally just gotten to a point where I can accept myself physically, and hopefully soon there will come a point where I can accept myself emotionally as well.

Why I Write

I am a writer. I denied it for most of my childhood, even as I babbled out re-tellings of fairytales or coined imaginative pieces regarding my Mother having an evil twin who hid under my bed.  I didn't see it as anything special, but rather just something that I did without really thinking about it.  It wasn't something I had to try to do, as though the words just flowed from my brain to my fingertips, which is probably why my parents and most of my teachers were aware of it way before I was.


I don't recall one exact moment where I finally figured it out. When I was in middle school, my poetry class was doing some sort of open-mic/coffeehouse type thing and I chose to read my free-verse, given that I believed it to be the best of all the assignments I'd done for my portfolio. It was extremely personal and I still am not sure what possessed me to read it in front of the entire grade, but I did. I had a lot to say, and this was one of the few ways I knew to genuinely express myself.


I finished the final stanza and walked offstage to a hundred or so loud cheers; teachers and classmates approached me afterward to tell me that I had brought tears to their eyes. Later on, I kept thinking back to people's reactions and how those words, my words, had affected them. In the days and weeks that followed, I constantly felt the urge to share my writings with other people. Each time I did, the idea that I could actually do something with it became more apparent.

As the years have passed, I do continue to write poetry, but I'm more so inclined toward fiction and non-fiction, especially personal essays. I'm not sure what genre I would categorize my work in, but I do see it as a cross between Nicholas Sparks and Jodi Piccoult. My writing style depends on what I'm writing about, along with what I'm trying to get at in the heart of the piece. It's not as cut and dry as it's made out to be; it takes a lot of discipline to be able to write your ideas down on paper, and then sit down and crank out the details on a regular basis or schedule. You have to be intentional about it and you can't worry about how crappy it will look for the first go-around. I tend to look at rough drafts as word vomit, where the focus is just getting it all out on paper.

The second and perhaps most excruciating half of it is workshopping/ proofreading. The first time I ever did a serious workshop was in my creative writing class during second semester. It can be daunting at first because the aim is to get honest feedback, and sometimes readers will be less than kind and more than willing to completely rip into the piece because they can. In other words, some are not shy about calling a piece "complete bullshit" regardless of the writer's intentions. In the long run though, it really was (and is) helpful because it allowed me to see certain aspects of the piece that I hadn't noticed before. That in turn makes editing/revising a little bit easier.


Editing may appear to be simple, because all it seems like is just reviewing the comments/suggestions that were made and then changing whatever they say to change. But just because someone makes a suggestion doesn't mean they're right; you have to ultimately be the one to decide whether it agrees with what you're trying to say within the piece. During the editing process of the last story that I wrote, I was constantly asking myself "Is this plausible? Is this believable?" I second-guessed myself many times. But in the end, it all came together.


And of course there is the publishing side of it, which can be even more work than the writing itself. The literary industry is rather cut-throat, where you'll probably receive more rejections than you will acceptances. It's amazing how I've realized that such a profession is truly dependent on your talent as an artist, which is a big part of what determines your profession. As difficult as it is, I believe it is why God made me a fighter, and why I've grown up with such a fierce sense of determination; you have to be willing to keep going, no matter who or what tries to point out that it might be easier just to give up. 

The most important thing is not what one writes, by why. Sure, you can write to entertain people, but it doesn't make sense for that to be the sole reason. There has to be something other reason behind it; something that drives you and makes you truly want to write.


At the end of the year gala for my dorm floor, one of the guest speakers pretty much summed it up in this quote: 


Writing is for those for when spoken words have failed them


For some reason, I'm am not that good of a talker; It's not that I don't talk, it's just that most of the time I have trouble initially expressing my thoughts and opinions out loud. So when I am afraid to speak, especially if it's to say that I am not doing all right, I write about it. As juvenile and immature as the whole concept may seem, it's frequently the one thing I know how to do in terms of coping. Heck, my last post that I wrote (which you can find here) was basically me crying out to anyone who read it. Cowardly? Perhaps so. But when you've spent time trying to verbally tell someone how you're feeling and they don't care listen, where else is there to turn?


I have a voice, and I want to be heard


But it is not just for the sake of self-expression or therapy, but something deeper. I have always said that I want to be able to make a difference in the lives of other people. Through writing, whether it be in a book or on my blog, I hope to have some sort of positive effect on people; to be a sense of courage, inspiration and strength. 


Writing is not only (hopefully) my teaching platform, but one of the many gifts and talents that I have received from God. One of the worst things that anyone can do is to spend their lives wasting the gifts that God gave them. I don't know where I will end up ten years from now in regards to my career, but I have this feeling that it will have something to do with writing. Whether that be true or not, Lord only knows. But I'd rather know than wonder.

I can understand the doubt and skepticism that tends to be cast on being a writer, or any artist for that matter. There is no denying that it's a lot of work and more often than not, it turns into an uphill battle. That being said, it's sad that many are fed the lie that it is a useless profession.  Reading is not only an escape, but a way to educate. Words and music have an incredible power to heal and help a person cope. The world needs artists and creators, because without it, the rest of the world would go insane. It may not have the financial security of working in law or medicine, but it is still needed nonetheless.

Update: having just graduated college, one of my main goals is to continue submitting my work for publication, while searching for a job that involves working with content-writing and social media for a company. Technology is such a blessing in this aspect, and I'm more thankful for it each day than I am wary of it. It will be hard, but I believe that it will be worth it.


I speak. I teach. I write.

photo credit: Slaff via photopin cc

Late Night Thought: How To Deal

Disclaimer: This is a very long and incredibly honest post. I started writing it in the middle of the night, so that is why the title refers to "late night."  In a way, I am venting. If you can handle that, keep reading. If not, feel free to exit out. 


I've never been good at dealing with stress. I'm certainly not a professional at processing my emotions and feelings in ways that are both healthy, as well as justified (or at least making it appear that my feelings are justified).


Despite my honesty within my writings, I actually have a very hard time communicating and getting things out in the open. Lately, I've been finding myself feeling the same way I did when I was thirteen; trapped, frustrated and even a little scared. Even though I have been able to make peace with happened back then, I think I have always subconciously been one to try and keep it together until the last moment, where I can no longer emotionally or even physically take it anymore. The only difference, this time around is that the circumstances are different.


I will not expand very much on what these circumstances are, but it has a lot to do with things that have been going on for the last six or seven years. there has been a pink elephant standing in my house, one that I wanted to do anything but  acknowledge it was there. 
There is a lot more that has to do with my brother leaving for the Air Force, but that I will save for another time.


I now understand that not all is well. As I said before, I once again find myself frustrated and trapped. I get angry at times, so much that I literally want to scream. I've become somewhat resentful. And I tell people to leave me alone, when the truth is that loneliness is consuming me like no other.


So the question is not if I should deal with it, but rather, how should I deal with it. This is becoming the main question I ask myself whenever I endure any kind of trial. 


I can either...


Talk About It-This is normally the most logical answer, regardless of whatever a person is going through. I've learned time and again, in terms of both my own experiences and others, that keeping silent about most upsetting matters does not work. It will gnaw at you and eventually eat away at your life until you feel practically dead inside. 


But than it begs then question "Just whom do I talk to?" Over the years, I've learned that unfortunately you can't talk to everyone about everything; there are those who won't be able to understand, as well as those who won't even make the effort to try and understand. On a personal level, it very much depends on how whomever I am talking to reacts to what I am telling them.


 For example, some of my relatives have very strong opinions; they will either take sides, or most likely tell me that either I make things too complicated or that I don't know how to appreciate what I have. That in turn will make me more defensive and hostile than I already am. 


In terms of friends, it largely depends on what the situation is. Some of them don't always know what to say, and I can't necessarily hold that against them. There are some circumstances when one literally has to have walked in a particular person shoes in order genuinely empathize with them. Heck, there are occasions when friends have come to me and asked "why did this happen?" and I don't have an answer. 


Truthfully, I tend to feel guilty whenever I confide in my friends about something; as though I am just dumping my tribulations on their shoulders, when they already have enough going on in their own lives. But I'll get to that later. 


Ever since I've come back from school, all I've wanted to do (either through Facebook or phone call) is say "I need to talk. I need to be held. I need you." In the past, they have been there for me more times than I can remember. But there is a part of me that's terrified that they won't be this time around. 


Of course, there is also therapy/counseling. I have always had a love/hate relationship with that sort of thing. Mostly because the therapists I went to often made things worse, not better. The last time I went, the woman told me things that you should never tell a fourteen year old child. So at the point I kind of figured that talking to a supposed licensed professional wasn't the best thing for me, even though I know now that it's just a matter of finding the right one. 


Journaling/Prayer-I admit that I haven't always been a good "Christian". As I wrote about previously, there are times when I'm really not sure as to what I believe in, specifically in regards to what is written in the Bible. However, that does not mean that I don't believe in God or having a relationship with Him. When it seems like everyone else is far away and that I am left alone to fend for myself, it seems as though God is always knocking on my little caccoon and letting me know that I am not. And when it all comes down to it, spirituality has always been the one thing that has been a safe haven for me. 


So that is why, whenever I'm going through a difficult time, I mostly ask people to pray for me.


And that is where journaling comes in; some days I spent hours writing down my prayers or random stuff that happens to come to mind. The thing with writing though, whether it be in my personal journal or on this blog, is that I usually have a lot to say. Sometimes when I write, I am gripped by fear of what others may think, or the overwhelming task of trying to get it all out on the table. So sometimes those writings go unfinished. 


Pretend it's not there or distract myself-Although not the healthiest way of going about it, this is normally the easiest thing for me to do as well as the path I usually take. Part of the joy of being away at college was  that I could completely focus on myself; I didn't have to assume the role of the older daughter of the big sister that tries to constantly be strong and/or keep everybody happy. I understand the selfishness in that kind of attitude, but it's the truth. It's one of those "out of sight, out of mind" cases. 


There will eventually come a point where I either want to stop talking about whatever is going on, or not discuss it at all. So that is why lately I have been calling my friends so much; not to vent, but to make plans to spend time with them and focus on something other than my struggles. And I'm not saying that this always works, but when I don't frequently discuss something, it becomes less of an issue. Ultimately, there are times when all I want to do is escape somewhere, even just for a little while. 


Yet, whenever I acknowledge that something is wrong, I always feel some sort of guilt along with it. For instance, I think to myself "there are people who have lost everything in these recent tornadoes, so who am I to break down and cry?" And than when I think about specific subjects, I remember that I am actually only here for two months. Once I go back to school, it's not really my issue to deal with anymore. In reality, it's not even my issue to deal with in the first place, so why am I worried so much? Yet, when you literally have to feel it, or when it makes you afraid day in and day out, it does become your issue. 


I don't think that life sucks; there are days when I wake up and I think to myself "you know, maybe this whole thing isn't as bad as I make it out to be." And that may or may not be true. I don't know whether to brace myself for an approaching storm that may  just turn out to be a light rain shower. 


In life, some days I see the flowers, and other days all I can feel is the thorns.


I know it appears that I am just lashing out or sounding completely immature. But I'm really not sure what else to do.

For My Guy Friends

Not too long ago, I wrote a post about the importance of having girlfriends and what it meant to me. As I read over it, I started to think that my guy friends deserved to be honored as well.

 I didn’t start investing in those kinds of friendships until seventh or eighth grade. Part of it was by natural inclination, and the other part was because I was wary of being around girls too much. I was picked on and bullied for a majority of those two years, and I needed to be able to get away from the cattiness and gossip. As a teenager, I carried a lot of insecurities, particularly when it came to having a handicap. When I was with them, I felt genuinely accepted and cared for, which carried over into high school as well.

As I've gotten older, I've come to appreciate them for more than just being confidants. There were those that I met in my first year of college that frequently took me out on the town, because they saw where I was coming from in terms of wanting to just let loose and be a regular college kid. I liked that they weren’t overly worried about my physical safety and trusted me enough to speak up for myself if I needed anything. They would regularly ask if I was OK, and in turn I was able to take responsibility for myself and the choices I made

But as a whole, I’m grateful for how they treat me as a person; I feel more normal when I'm around them than any other time. It is very rare that we ever touch on the fact that I have cerebral palsy, regardless of who they are or how long I have known them for. Some have asked out curiosity, and that is why I have tremendous respect for those that are willing to openly discuss the matter instead of make assumptions.

 And whether anyone asks or not, I’ve realized that it’s probably not a big deal to them, nor does it define me. I'm still "Al" or any one of the dozen nicknames I've been given (one of them was from a car commercial, and another was because I constantly wore a pink fuzzy Northface jacket around campus). There are those that have an amazing sense of humor and we often spend time joking around about stuff. And despite that I sometimes appear to take it seriously, it's only because I'm not sure how to respond with something as equally funny. Half of the time I just sit there and laugh until I can't breathe.

It’s nice to do different things with different people, and creates a healthy balance.  I think everybody needs to have friends who can challenge their perspective and motivate them to be the best person that they can be. Not too many of mine know it, but a lot of them have been positive influences and strong examples since the day I met them. My instincts told me that there was something about them that was special.

Having those people in my life has taught me a lot and in turn enabled me to be a better person. I have so much respect for them, and can only hope that if I haven't done it already, I will one day be able to do for them what they have done for me.

Update: It’s crazy to think how much has happened in the last four years. I was only nineteen when I wrote this, and was actually struggling with keeping friendships for a little while. I was meeting new people all the time, but it was more of a matter of finding those that I genuinely meshed with after the sense of “newness” and excitement of being in college wore off. I was still in the process of trying to figure out who I was and where I fit, along with feeling confident that not knowing was perfectly OK. It takes a lot of time and courage to truly get to know someone, a lot of which I didn’t think I had because I’d been burned in the past.

That fear intensified after my first brush with sexual assault (one of several that I dealt with several times afterward). I’d become well aware that most people (especially young women), were either perceived as good or bad based on what they did, more so when it came to their bodies. Our culture is borderline obsessed with victim-blaming instead of focusing on the attacker, and I was already dealing with enough judgment and shame from not having taken the right precautions to get away. I didn’t want to run the risk of changing anybody’s opinion of me when I wasn’t ready to talk about it.  

Of course, there was always the question of why bring anything up when they don’t need to know? Sure, they didn’t need to know about my parents’ imminent divorce or how the events leading up to it affected me. They didn’t need to know that I struggle with depression or that I’d been in and out of therapy for years. Yet not talking about it started to feel weird after a while. When it came to my closest guy friends, I spent more energy trying to avoid those subjects, which created a huge barrier between us. I’m not sure if they sensed anything, but I don’t like depending on people as emotional crutches when trying to cope with a difficult situation. I had a lot going on at once, and when I did finally start discussing my history, it was because I was in a good place and the timing was appropriate.

However, I wish I had been more clear about how there are times when I don’t want to talk about it. My struggles are not problems to be solved, much less in a short period of time. In lieu of deep conversations, I’d more prefer a hug or doing something else to get my mind off of whatever I’m going through. I appreciate those that went and got drinks with me when I suggested it, because there are a lot of fun memories that came out of those nights. I still wonder if certain friends were able to witness my bubbly, goofy side when we spent time together.

There were rough patches, a falling out during freshman year, and thankfully a falling back in before graduation. I had my pet peeves (lack of communication with cell phones among them) and I’m sure I equally drove them crazy with my own shortcomings. There were a lot of times where I wanted to yell “you don’t get it!” or “you’re not listening to what I’m saying!” because of personality clashes. Through it all we stayed in each other lives, and that’s a true testament to what they meant to me, and most likely what I meant to them as well.

I’ve often focused on what they’ve done for me rather than what I’ve learned from them. A lot of it has to do with self-acceptance and not being ashamed of who you are both inside and out. I know that I am my own worst critic and that I tend to self-blame for matters that aren’t my fault. I’ve spent a lot of time loving and trying to be who I feel like I should be, rather than loving and being the person I know that I am. Not all of these guys know each other personally, but they all have good hearts. Do you want to know why?

They were able to see in me what I couldn’t see in myself, at least not for a very long time. And I think that’s why God gives us friends.

I’m now comfortable saying that I appreciate being taken care of and protected. It doesn’t always have to be in the traditional sense, but for me it means being close to people. I don’t want or expect anyone to hold my hand, but just let me know that you’re walking through this with me. Sometimes it means just being heard or validated. That’s more than enough.

The goodbyes did not happen all at once, but they were no less painful and difficult to do. I still recall the last hugs from each of them and crying for at least an hour once I was alone. I’m at least a hundred miles away from each of them now and I’m grateful for the convenience of texting and calling when there’s time. Yet nothing compares to bonding over classic rock music, being competitive over our favorite sports teams (particularly if and when they’re rivals), or just being goofballs. I miss the traditions and typical weekend happenings. Those are the little things that I savored and continue to look back on.

I care for them each in my own little way and I hope that despite the distance, we will one day cross paths again (or at least use technology to our advantage). Though I’m still a little sad, I give thanks and I count my blessings. Not everyone can say they've had several years with such amazing people.

Stream of Conscience #10

It's the fourth day of Summer Break; I am here at home, drinking coffee and watching Shania Twain's new reality show on the Oprah Winfrey Network. It sounds a little dull, but I have to say that I'm enjoying it. This summer feels different, like I'm looking at it in a different way this time around. In the past it was always about hanging out with friends every single day and doing something all the time. I think this is the first summer season where I've started to realize that both my friends and I are becoming adults and we're not going to necessarily be spending all this time together like we used to. They have jobs, and I will start working at my own job in a couple of weeks. It doesn't mean that my social life is not going to exist, it just means that I understand that the concept of summer in itself isn't really what it used to be. 


In a more positive light, I'm viewing this summer break as a time to do things that I don't always get to do when I'm away: I get to read for more than just an hour or two, I get to watch TV, I can go to church, and I can actually sit down and write without it having to be a research paper or some major assignment for a class. I want to spend time with my family, especially my brother, who will be leaving for basic training in a little less than two months. I want to catch up with those that didn't get to visit me while I was at school and actually talk with them. 


And granted, I do miss campus already to some degree; it's weird how much one has to rely on communication and planning ahead in order to do something. When I was at school I could easily just text someone five to ten minutes beforehand and most of the time a car wasn't needed in order to get from point A to point B. It's weird how on a Friday night I was at home thinking "I'm usually downtown dancing my ass off by now" as opposed to already getting ready for bed. The hardest part will be not being frequently surrounded by people to talk to. I know there will come a point, probably a few weeks from now, where I will say "I feel so isolated from everything else. I'm lonely, and this sucks!" 


But for now, I'm just trying to take this particular time for what it is; a time to just relax and recharge and not have to be stressing out about life. I'm beginning to get into a routine where I work out almost every single day and hopefully by the time the warm weather officially hits, I will be physically feeling good enough to wear a swimsuit. Note that this is not about weight; when I was away I was frequently putting all this crap into my body and it made me feel like a lug. I'm on a junk detox, if you will; but more about that in later time. 


And since I will be getting my own apartment, I have a lot of stuff to buy. So there will be shopping, (my favorite..tehehe) and I'm hoping to make some decorations and stuff for the place. I ultimately want to put my creative mind to good use. 


It's summer after all, and the living should be easy. And that is how I'm going to go about it.