I’m declaring this the year
of being bold, I wrote with only a few hours left of my twenty-fourth birthday. Of being bold and assertive. Of pursuing dreams until God closes the
door. I want to build a life that has meaning, and that it will involve doing
hard things and being uncomfortable.
Such
a declaration was nothing close to an automatic miracle. Waking up the next
morning, all I could think about was the fact that I’m near a quarter of a century old, and its way past the point of being time. I’ve wrested with selflessness
versus taking charge of my needs and desires for most of my life; I’m not
necessarily afraid of rejection itself, but more so the reasoning behind the
rejection. It’s almost like I would rather live with the potential outcomes
than face reality head on. As I’ve said previously, the possibility of getting
what I want is a lot scarier than not doing so. It comes down to having more to
lose, and not wanting to subconsciously take responsibility when I might not be
at fault.
For
a time I associated such a word with class and sophistication, combined with a
take-no-prisoners attitude. I envisioned women in colored blazers with heels,
flawless eyeliner and jangling jewelry. They’re the Beyoncé’s and the Taylors and
the Lady Gaga’s of the world. Bold embodies the women I met when I was sixteen
years old, and have looked up to since high school. It’s strange to say that I’ve
never sensed that in my own being; I’ve more so identified as the shy one, the
unsure one, the one who spends way too much time overthinking and preparing for
the worst. I’ve hidden away and longed for more, and regretted it every time.
When
I do step up, when I take a risk and go after something, I feel a lot better
afterward. More confident. Free. No longer carrying a huge weight on my shoulders.
Even if things don’t go way that I’d like them to, at least I can move forward
and keep my anxiety levels down. It’s not always easy or comfortable, but it’s
what I need to do it order to grow. It might be the writer in me, or it might
just be the perfect time to begin tapping into who God made me to be.
This
newly lit fire in my heart is a tough one to explain, and the pieces will come
together in their own time. Based on
past experiences, I’m well aware of the fact that I’m capable of taking risks,
and making things happen one way or the other. I once stood in front of my
entire seventh grade class and read a poem that launched my writing career. I
went to both high school and college in completely unfamiliar territory, and
wound up meeting a number of people that changed my life for the better. I don’t
have to be an expert to understand that I have it in me, and that it’s more so
a matter of manifesting that kind of courage on a regular basis.
Assertiveness
has many definitions, but it boils down to keeping it simple and using your
time wisely. Ask for whatever it is, without embellishment or justification. I’ve
never heard anyone mentioned above try to explain themselves or hand out
reasons like candy; they do what they do and don’t apologize for bringing up
uncomfortable subjects. Bear in mind, it’s not always about the big and
monumental that go the distance. God needs people to move mountains, but I can
imagine that He has just as much of a need to tackle the small things as well.
Never underestimate the power of a single voice, the determination of one, or
the impact of what might look tiny, but has a lot of momentum behind it.
It’s
what dark horses are made of.
Proclaiming
it is one part, and living it out is another. I would rather let people make
their own judgements and critiques, because trying to convince anyone to see
from your point of view is like running on a hamster wheel. I go with the
expectation of learning and evolving and becoming…nothing else. It takes
patience and perseverance, but I’m confident that it can become second nature
as time progresses. I’m sure I’ll stumble and shrink back into old habits, like
waiting until the “right” moment or set of circumstances to take action. I’ll
probably overthink and over-analyze until I’ve worn out my slippers, and I hope
that my loved ones will hold me accountable for that.
Celebrating
a general new year is great, because it’s where we can recognize that we’re all human and we long to make something of ourselves. But there’s something about
birthdays that’s just as special; it’s a more intimate and personal way of
starting over, of celebrating all that you are and where you’ve been. The
choice to be bold is not necessarily about starting over, but a continuation of
what has been in the making for close to ten years. I’m just digging a bit
deeper, my voice is becoming a bit louder, and my self-image is becoming
sharper. When I really think about it, I’ve haven’t accomplished anything without
taking a chance, along with asking for and accepting help along the way.
Here’s
to the bold ones: the ones that stand up, show up, and shine because they were
created to do so. May our actions demonstrate our words, and our lives become
testaments of strength and continuous butt-kicking. May we lead by example,
making an effort to know and understand as much as we want to be known and
understood. And here’s to the loneliness,beauty, determination, frustration, triumph,
and all that comes with it.
The beauty in expressing what you need (via Verily Magazine) I've struggled with being assertive, particularly as an adult. It's not that I'm afraid of hearing the word "no", but the possible reasons behind that specific kind of rejection. It's something that I'm currently working on, and want to get better at. Being an independent person has its perks, but I feel like I'm being true to myself where I'm able to share certain aspects of my life with another person. Is "better" always best? (via Storyline) I'm all for growth and self-improvement, but as someone who has spent most of her life trying to be "better" physically, and emotionally, and spiritually, it gets exhausting. When you feel like you're at a crossroads, ask yourself if getting better means growing into who God made you to be, or trying to twist yourself into who you think you should be. God, cancer, and very few answers (via John Pavlovitz) We lost several beloved entertainers to this monster in the span of one week. I've seen several family members and family friends go through the hell this disease creates, and battling it with every ounce of strength they have. I have cried tears, and I have cried out desperately. I can honestly say I don't know how I would feel or how I would deal with it if I ever heard those dreaded three words. Is God good? Yes. But does the fragility of life always feel good? No. The words that can change your prayers (via Bronwyn Lea) I never thought of including this in my morning quiet time, and it has made my prayer requests feel much more genuine as about to several minutes of listing out wants or needs. Why perfection isn't a requirement for love (via Stephanie May Wilson) All I can say is that her words are a gift, and I thank God for speaking through her when I need it most. Have a great weekend!! Photo Credit
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?
///
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.
///
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.
///
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.
///
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.
Over the last two months, I've been genuinely getting into instrumental or classical covers of contemporary music. Not only is it relaxing, but I also enjoy listening to it during any kind of writing session. Granted, I have plenty of other favorites, but this is just to start....
Love Story-Dallas String Quartet (Taylor Swift cover)
Just The Way You Are-The Piano Guys (Bruno Mars cover)
When something new begins, whether it be a chapter, a year, or an era, it all tends to happen very quickly. I woke up on the first day of 2016 with a little anxiety, eager to start doing things differently, but wondering if I would slip back into old patterns again in a matter of weeks. It has felt like a whirlwind, but in a good way: I'm revving up the engine for some endeavors and taking a step back from others. More than anything, I'm confident that this is where I'm supposed to be, and that the only way to go is to continue to go forward. Sometimes moving forward requires a plan and sometimes it doesn't. I am literally taking it all one day at a time, my only goal being that I build stronger relationships, including with God and myself.
This year, I am open to making peace with my past, and creating a brand new, and incredibly bright future.
This year, I want to feel whole, I want to feel comfortable, and I wanted to feel loved. I will say no to being bullied, manipulated, and taking responsibility for others' actions and emotions. I'll know that I'm on the right track when I'm doing something that is a reflection of who I am; when I am acting in faith instead of fear. And when I slip up, I'll gently but firmly remind myself that I am strong, that I am a fighter, but also that I am human. In December 2016, I want to look back and say that I did hard things. That I took risks. That I chose not to hide, but instead honor the quirks and traits that God gave me. I am growing. I am learning. But most importantly, I'm being. How sweet it is.
