Ignoring Ignorance. Choosing to Love.

First of all – my ultrasound results for my legs came back negative for a circulation issue. That’s a big praise report! I still have no idea what is causing my issues but I think it NOT being blood clot or circulation related is a definite positive.

With some of the health issues of late, I’ve gotten constant reminders, not from doctors but my mom, to lose weight. She loves to chime in with “maybe your problems would go away if you just lost X pounds.” (Yes, there is some potential truth to that) She also drives me batty because she’s one of those people who watches infomercials and thinks it or what Dr. Oz has to say will be magical for me. “I’ll buy you this 30 day fix.” “Dr. Oz says to lose weight you should…”

Most recently I showed her passport photos I got done. My hair was down but placed behind my shoulders. The camera angle was rather unflattering because it was angled slightly up instead of straight on. I showed it to her to let her know I was proactively working on getting my passport ready but her first response was, “Did they tell you to put your hair back like that? It’s better in front of your face.” Without being direct, she hinted that my moon-shaped face looked slimmer and more flattering with hair covering the sides and elongating.

My aunt who lives in town was over a while back and I was a little more done up that usual in a dress and wearing makeup for church. Before she left she grabbed my face and told me how beautiful it was. She said if I could lose weight I’d have a beautiful body to go with it. She tried to encourage me with her double sided words, assuring me that some people have a nice body but can’t change their face, but I had the face and my body can change.

I’m still surprised I made it through teen-hood and my early twenties without an eating disorder. I don’t mean that flippantly. I’m serious. My family and extended family have been my worst offenders throughout my life. I still remember the holiday I locked myself in my bedroom after my uncle offered to give me $1/lb that I lost. I thought “wow, I cost less than steak per pound. My total worth is about $220.”

Why am I bringing this up? Because I could be very bitter and hate these family members for their words. Instead, I choose to forgive their ignorance and ignore their implications. I am more comfortable with who I am than ever although I do wish to lose weight. And their hurtful comments are now easy to shake off because I know I don’t need to process their unfiltered nonsense.

I wrote about sending comments to spam here. It’s been a life changing way of dealing with negativity and unsolicited comments. I can be conscious of my present state and plan of action without letting the thoughts of others invade my feelings.

I’m changing for me. No one else.

Unroll.me: The Purger and Merger

Sometimes I feel like I live under a rock. Like, didn’t sign up for spotify until the end of last year type of rock.

It’s no surprise that with my fossilized tech sense of living that I also just used unroll.me for the first time ever. And goodness, is it awesome.

You go to the site, then allow it access to your contacts and sign into your email account. Then, magic happens. And if you’re drowning in junk mail like me, this might take a couple minutes.

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There is one catch. They let you unsubscribe from about 10ish things and then tell you to share it to be able to unsub to more. I just shared it privately to my FB and voila. All the unsubs.

Look at that number! I am a worm! I used to shop in person and online A LOT. And what do they do at checkout? Ask you for your email.

It also had blogger subscriptions which makes it easy to clean up blog subs from multiple places like blogger and wordpress. I mostly kept my blog subs but there were a few style/beauty ones I said adios to.

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Step one. I cleared out 57 my first attempt and then realized I had no idea what rolling up emails meant.

Round 2:

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I looked in the FAQ and rolled up emails means instead of getting 80 things you can get them all in one place merged in one email. I rolled up most of my shopping subs, art/event subs, concert subs, and etcetera emails and went from a cleaned up 97 emails to 43 kept in inbox. Glorious.

Here’s what I didn’t roll up:

– My blog subs I love and want to know about ASAP or be able to read via email.
– My top 5 shopping spots only because I do appreciate knowing what’s in season there and getting those quick sale codes when offered. Because 50-75% is amazing. With stuff I’ve already planned to buy, anyway. Not to impulse shop(at least, not as much as before).
– Anything related to banking/medical/bills

It’s a life changer.

While I keep a very uncluttered new email account, I still like holding on to my old one for sales posts and blog subs. It helps me separate things. I like that with the rolled up email I can still keep my retail subs from pertinent places without being tempted to look at them unless I need them. And that my inbox won’t get 30+ emails a day from mindless sources.

The Silence is Dumbing

There are days where I clock in and clock out and in those 8 hours have never spoken a word.

There are days where the only dialogue I get outside of my house is the total charged for my groceries.

There are days I spill my guts through texts and emails because that’s the only outlet I have.

I feel like my conversational skills have atrophied and when I open my mouth, I am clueless on how to share what I’m thinking or don’t even know what to say. As my mouth moves, my brain cringes at the vomit I half-heartedly conjured.

I feel like sometimes I disregard my feelings because it’s too hard to accurately portray them. Or I don’t sufficiently give my cause. And I hate that, because those are the only swords I have that convey mental capacity and tenacity.

I feel like my vocabulary and thoughts only work on paper or typed out from a keyboard.

One of the compliments I have often genuinely received from others is that I’m a good listener. I wish I could equally project myself and cultivate my speaking ability to match my propensity to listen.

I do enjoy listening. But I also want to be heard.

“We Did It Again!”

Home Alone 2 was a staple in my home growing up. If I had to describe my dad’s favorite movies to you growing up it would be “Christmas movies and James Bond.” I’m pretty sure the James Bond part is out the window now, especially as the R rating becomes more scandalous in nature, and it is now “Christmas Movies and Netflix War Documentaries and the occasional reality series about something boring like Ice Road Drivers.”

All that to say, the infamous line of Home Alone 2 is “We did it again!” Kevin’s parents look at each other in distress and mirror each other’s words in bewilderment.

I’m kind of there, but in a different way. And I think anyone not living up to their goals/NYR might be feeling the same. Sometimes we’re creatures of habit or find ourselves repeating things we wish we didn’t.

For me that is being too busy.

I grew up in a very close knit church. It was kind of expected that you were heavily involved and helped out. I love being a part of ministry. But now I don’t feel compelled to volunteer out of guilt or because I’m afraid no one else will step up. That being said, maybe I still feel compulsive sometimes. I can carve out an hour for X can’t I?  [The answer is no, Laura!]

I also hid myself in academics growing up because I was awkward and felt that if I couldn’t keep a conversation or make friends easily at least I could use facts and mental capacity to help. This mostly meant someone with average or slightly better than average tried to get straight A’s because I’m no genius. And it stopped working after college anyway. But there is still this echo of needing to better myself mentally or build new skills. Sometimes healthy, sometimes consuming.

Anyways. Being busy is how I defined myself for years. It’s something hard for me to shake. And now as January wraps up I can see things heaping up in my arms already.

I’m not sure what balance looks like but this week was

Mon – Date night
Tues – Bible Study
Wed – Seminar
Thurs – Non-profit Meeting/ Non prof work
Fri – Art Lesson

I think the earliest I got home/relaxed any of those nights was 8:30pm. And that’s after putting in 8+ hours at my job. This is why I might be kinda nuts.

It wouldn’t be so bad if I was super organized, but I’m not there yet. My Wednesdays will open up after the series of seminars is over, but I know I’ll be craving something to fill the spot. And that’s why I need to tell myself to calm down.

I’m looking at this super full week and how I feel right now and how this is too much and filing it for when I get a crazy notion that I need to do more. Finding balance is taking me a while.

Double Whammy: When good times and bad times share the same date.

This Sunday was Josh and my dating anniversary. It was also my Uncle Norman’s birthday. His first one since he passed last year. Of course it doesn’t mean anything to him anymore in heaven, but to his family and friends that are still here? I miss him and know my aunt is going through a rough patch right now as she is coping. Yesterday was pouring rain and she didn’t even make it to church. She was home alone on a gloomy weather day, mourning her husband. That got me as I empathized with her. Josh took me to a yummy restaurant for dinner that evening and ended the night with a surprise movie date where it was just us, a big screen, and a pint of ice cream to share between the two of us. There were feelings of great sadness and great happiness yesterday.

Last year on my birthday I had one of the hardest birthdays I’ve ever had to face. Josh had just surprised me and taken me out to lunch on my lunch break and dropped me back at work. The phone rang about 30 minutes later and my brother informed me if I wanted to say goodbye to my uncle I better go to the hospital now. I cried so much throughout that day. And I was there, emotionally distraught, until the wee hours of the next morning when my Uncle drew his last gasping breath. I am wholeheartedly thankful for that opportunity. To bond even deeper with my cousins and aunt and my family as we drew strength from each other to make it through this very hard goodbye. To let my Uncle know, however lucid he was, that all of us were there. But I know without a doubt that my birthday this year will be hard to celebrate. It’s also marks my last year of being in my 20’s. And it’s a sad reminder that I have no close local friends to celebrate it with. My closest friends are scattered hours or days drives away from me.

I probably sound like I’m throwing myself a big pity party, but really, I am just a deeply emotional person conflicted by the happiness and sadness of life contrasted by loss.

Pottermore – Something Light for a Change

Here’s something light for a change: my nerdy side.

I am a big fan of art and literature and as immature as it may sound, I truly appreciate Young Adult fiction. Not because it suits my reading level (although it’s probably closer to it, ha!) but because it usually explores some really big themes in life that make me think outside the box and also carries an element of fun.

One of the series I truly enjoy is Harry Potter. I’ve got to admit I’m not as fanatical as my SIL but I still love it SO SO much. You can tell I’m not a fanatic because up until yesterday, I had not joined Pottermore.

When it first began it was by email invitation only and I felt like I wasn’t worthy? But I’ve always been oddly curious to see what house I’d be sorted into. In real life, I see a lot of my personality fall into Hufflepuff and Slytherin while my intentions lean more towards Ravenclaw.

Out of all the houses, I felt like Griffyndor least-suited me.

And of course, I’ve officially sorted into Griffyndor. I scratched my head a lot little and went on to take the Ilvermorny sorting and got Thunderbird. 2/2.

I was so confused. How could that be? And that’s when I thought of the dichotomy of perception vs. intention.

My perception of self is mostly Hufflepuff/Slytherin. However, if I honestly search myself, I am working/wanting many of the qualities of Gryffindor.

If I look far enough back, I can remember wanting to be something great as a kid, being a “fearless leader/instigator” as the eldest of the cousin pack on my mom’s side, and now as an adult, willing to sacrifice comfort/goods/wants for the greater good, and wanting to discover new things and my intrinsic craving for new experiences. The brave and devil-may-care attitude? Not so much. But in that hindsight, I can now pride myself as a Griffyndor.

It’s a good little tidbit for 2017, I think. This whole perception vs. intention. I think it will help me discover more about myself that I didn’t know but had assumed.

What house(s) were you sorted into and how do you identify with it? I am super curious!

Because Believers Contemplate Suicide Too

Please read this/share this/save this if it is on your heart.

Before you ask, let me clear the air and say I’m not suicidal. However if I’m completely honest, I can say thoughts have run through my head that I wish hadn’t about my worth, my life, my purpose, etc.

The truth is being a Christian doesn’t mean we are immune to depression, suicidal thoughts, and self-harm. We struggle like everyone else, regardless of belief.

But when it comes to reaching out? Sometimes we feel we should conceal how we feel or be silent. Please don’t. We have a God who loves us beyond what our human hearts can measure. And He has placed people and resources in your life to reach out to.

http://micahjmurray.com/to-the-christian-contemplating-suicide/

Healthy Fear is Fuel for Future Fearlessness

Healthy Fear is Fuel for Future Fearlessness

Try saying that ten times fast. I’m always in my head, trying to sort things out or sometimes just babble for my sanity. Today’s lasting thought is that healthy fear helps to create future fearlessness.

If I look back on good career moves and personal growth, I see fear. I see fear of the unknown, fear of full potential, fear of knowing what to do. It made it kind of scary but also very thrilling. And as I conquered or overcame them, that became a sense of pride. Fear becomes fearlessness in the end. It becomes a reminder that we did hard things and kicked butt and can do it again. 

In examining life right now, I’ve noticed I don’t have enough fear fueling me in the right way. My fears borderline unhealthy and say stay put, don’t overdo it, don’t risk what you don’t know. Am I talking huge things like quitting my job or moving 10,000 miles away? Heck no. But I am thinking it’s time to fan those flames in my favor towards something scary and exciting.

What fearful things am I thinking?

New friendships – I need a sense of community and sisterhood locally. I need to diligently do my part to meet new people and kindle something. It needs to specifically be someone with ambitious dreams so we can feed off each other’s encouragement.

Planning for my future – Really sitting down and going over financial numbers, what I desire and need to work on in my relationship, and thinking hard about where I want to be in the next year, five years, and decade.

Ministry – Braving bigger roles and practicing some lacking faithfulness and diligence that has made me feel kind of crummy lately. Digging deeper and knowing I’m not just a volunteer.

I need to keep reminding me I’m not scared of being scared. I need some fear, good fear, to help me continue to evolve into a better person. I’ve done it before, I can do it again. And again. And again. 🙂

Nowhere Near

Last night the volume in the house got a bit loud and heated. It was stupid, it was frustrating, and it was a situation where I just needed to get out. Given the fact it was nearly 11pm, I also didn’t have many options.

I drove slowly through neighborhoods hoping I didn’t look like I was thief scoping my next home to plunder. After a while, I parked in front of a home I was familiar with, but dared not disturb that acquaintance at that hour. Two teenage looking guys on bikes rode through the street and decided to pass awfully close to my car and I booked it out of my hiding spot.

As I went back to weaving through quiet sleeping cul-de-sacs, I realized in sadness that I DIDN’T HAVE a place to go. My boyfriend is a few towns away, and he would have been there in a heartbeat or let me come over, but I didn’t have a non-family member I could trust to bare my soul to and not hate me for crashing their place at 11pm.

I live in a good town. There is generally nothing to fear, and we are ranked one of the top safest places to raise a family. But when night falls, even our town tends to get shady. In the daytime we are family friendly residential and shopping spots, but at night you see what I assume is drug dealing and the like.

I’m longing to have that close friend again. One where I can plan weekend fun with, or chat over coffee with. I have some wonderful acquaintances here, but we just don’t fully mesh. I don’t know if I shoo people away without knowing it or if I’m just horrible at making really close friends? Either way, there’s an emptiness where a close friend should be, but I don’t know how or when that gaping hole will be filled.

I think one of the hardest parts of being a quarter-lifer is having so much change happening around you or to you. Those connections you built in your youth dissipate as people pursue careers, callings, and have families and move away.

I cling to my amazing friends states away, but sometimes, I just need someone near. An actual girl friend with a shoulder I don’t have to metaphorically lean on, because she’s right there.