From Where I'm Standing

an outside look on healthy masculinity

5:20 PM

"Healthy masculinity is displayed when a man is secure and confident enough in himself that he doesn't need a woman to be weak or less in order to compensate. This provides space for a woman to walk in healthy femininity, having no need to fight to prove herself capable and worthy to man. She is able to flourish due to the empowerment he gives her through his own strength and selflessness, allowing her to be her full self and not made small. He is not intimidated by her but is challenged by her and in return, is able to challenge her as well. He thrives in his masculinity knowing he is not dependent on her approval, yet is affirmed and encouraged by her desire for him to be the truest version of himself- authentic and honest."

This came to me, sort of out of the blue, after thinking about this topic for quite literally months. I consider myself to be a feminist, more so in the traditional definition of the term. I'm not a "man-hater" by any means. And I honestly loathe that I even need to provide that disclaimer before continuing, but assumptions get made otherwise. In short, I'm a feminist who fully believes that men and women need each other. Not just in close relationships, but in general. I also think that many of our social issues stem from an overall lack of health within our internal worlds. The "sickness" is often subtle, but it bleeds into all aspects of our lives, especially our interactions and perceptions of those around us, in personal or professional relationships. More than anything else it affects us directly. Our internal wellness causes an influence on others' inner wellness too. And a lack of self-awareness to take care of our internal worlds, continuing for a few generations, has produced where we are now.

We are a society of humans who are detached from ourselves and each other, lacking in empathy and compassion, emotionally absent and seeking affirmation through double taps on a screen. Mental illnesses are hiding behind the busy lives we're addicted to. Despite the blaring fact that suicide numbers, cases of anxiety and depression, as well as other serious mental illnesses are skyrocketing, the topic of mental health is still not addressed enough or as thoroughly as it desperately needs to be.

For example, there is quite literally a silent epidemic of suicide among men. Studies show that men commit suicide 3x more than women. But somehow it’s rarely talked about, and the stigma on mental health wellness is thicker than the heap of curly Jamaican hair on my head.

You may be wondering why I'm bringing this weighty subject up. Two reasons: 1. it's always worth talking about because it's such a prominent problem right now. 2. I believe it goes hand in hand with healthy masculinity.

Since I'm a woman, I obviously know nothing about being a man. But because I am a woman, I see how unhealthy femininity and unhealthy masculinity is cyclical: cause and effect, bouncing off each other and doing damage. In our culture today, there is an unspoken (sometimes spoken) perception of men... That if they are expressive in their emotions, they are less of a "manly man" and are more feminine. Crying for any reason is an invitation to be negatively judged. Being soft-spoken is equivalent to being "gay." Having an artistic side that isn't related to woodwork or music is "girly"... The list goes on. Yet, simultaneously there is another aspect of suppressed masculinity that says men are violently dangerous, utterly selfish, flat out stupid, and need to be under control (by women). I see this all over entertainment: movies, tv shows, books, and lyric content in songs. I think many men accept these labels and expectations society is thrusting upon them, perhaps because they are unaware or perhaps because that mindset has been handed down to them by their fathers or other influencing males in their lives.

Now look at femininity in our culture...Again, two sides of the coin. Side #1 tells women they are "too much". Too emotional, too controlling, too loud, demanding, high maintenance, expose too much of their bodies, attention seeking, and inherently ignorant. Side #2 (which I feel like is a poor attempt to counteract side #1) tells women to give their middle finger specifically to men because women are the superior gender. They are not merely as capable as men, but far more capable. They are not as smart as men, but smarter. Simply because they have a vagina. And by all means, you’d best use your sexuality and body to manipulate men in order to have the upper hand. Make sure he knows who's in charge. This both stems from and feeds off of the suppressed masculinity I mentioned before. As a woman, I know I have felt that I must fight hard in order to make my voice heard and what I have to say to be taken seriously. I've also felt that when I do so, it's too far: I'm too much and then rejected for one of two reasons. It's felt impossible to be direct, heard, and valued without being dismissed or worse, "making" a guy feel emasculated, therefore "causing" him to either shut down or be even louder to prove he is the man. I have many girl friends who have said similar things... Where is the balance? Can it be remedied?

I believe change starts with self-awareness and pursuing emotional and mental wellness. I have spent the past six years trying to tap into my internal world, connect with what I'm feeling, why, and if it's healthy. Well, six years off and on, and not as intentionally as I am trying to now. If you're unsure how to do that on your own, talk to a couple of people you trust. If you're feeling especially daring, ask them for feedback. But be prepared to be uncomfortable. It will be, and it's more than worthwhile. It may be that going to see a licensed therapist would be helpful, and there is zero shame in that. If society isn't going to remove the stigma on mental health, screw society and remove it yourself. Be aware of the way you talk to yourself... What is the tone of your self-talk? The world needs as much kindness as it can get, and so does your internal world. I'm not saying excuse yourself from confronting and dealing with conflict or pain, but don't beat yourself up. Acknowledge the issue and work through it. Embrace the messiness. Give yourself time and keep taking steps forward.

Beyond all this, is the concept of healthy masculinity and healthy femininity. I believe it's attainable and within our close grasp. I know that for myself, I have had to spend time figuring out what those definition even are to me...

What is healthy masculinity? What is healthy femininity? I think every person has their own little explanation, and I can't put words in anyone's mouth. But for me, it looks like both genders who live in the present, are emotionally aware of themselves and others, and embrace their full self- flaws and all- while seeking personal growth and healing of their inner worlds. It looks like both man and woman valuing themselves and those around them. I don't mean valuing life as in, posting on social media about how you're pro-life or for women's rights or whatever. I mean, actually living it out in a way that is tangible. Taking time to connect with those around you, with those who are different from you, listening and seeking their best interest. It looks like being empathetic and compassionate. It looks permission given to both man and woman, to themselves as individuals and each other, to be their truest self.

yours truly,

* originally written 10/28/2017

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heavy weights & s o u l s i f t i n g

7:49 PM

I’m in this weird space right now that’s new but also not new at all. It’s a little scary though that’s for sure, because it came about pretty fast and very unexpectedly... Or, as we all say in 2021, unprecedented. But really.

Until I was about, I don’t know? Maybe 22? 23? I didn’t want kids. I grew up in a large family and was often taking care of my younger brothers and sisters (whom I love dearly). We also did foster care for 10 years, so I’ve had a couple younger siblings around ever since I can remember. My older siblings are a decade or two older than me, so some of their kids often felt more like extended younger siblings than my niece or nephew.

I don’t know what exactly changed in my early 20s... I have a guess, but don’t know for sure. Regardless, I began wanting children and wanting them very badly. No one questioned the shift or why, myself included. Around 25, I finally began to ask myself that “why”. Because similarly to right now, it was such an intense and quick shift. Some answers I came up with were rather logic oriented. Simply put: I’m good with kids. Between my massive family, working with kids as a teen every summer, teaching dance to kiddos, and being a nanny- I didn’t really have any doubts about my abilities to take care of kids, connect with them and be a pretty good mom. Someone recently told me that I was confident about this and then went on to say that perhaps I was too confident. I disagree though I can see why it may sound arrogant. But if you reframe it to look more like a skill set that I’ve been exposed to and/or developing for almost 20 years, perhaps that offers a more accurate and helpful perspective. In the same way that an athlete or mechanic would be skilled if their family played basketball, coached basketball, etc... Or, if the parent ran a family business and they worked for that business in various roles for the majority of their life. It’s familiar, comfortable and something they’d be well versed in. My family’s “thing” is kids. So that has left me pretty comfortable, familiar, knowledgable and good with them.

I think a small part of me also wanted redemption. My birth mom had me when she was 15 and I was adopted at birth. I think part of me believed that if I had kids, I could do things differently and therefore bring about redemption. But who would be getting redeemed? Well… Myself. Because the kid wouldn’t need redemption, right? And the more I think about that… The more selfish that sounds. Like having a child, would be to serve me. And I’m not naïve. I know that having kids is the exact opposite of selfishness. In fact it’s selflessness to the point of extreme sacrifice. I know that is true parenting, especially for a mother. And I know that it is sacred and beautiful and rewarding. I fully believe that to be true. In fact, that was another one of my reasons for wanting to be a mama.

And yet...

I’m in this startling, unforeseen, but very familiar space of not being sure if I want kids now. Again, something flipped a switch. I know what. And I know why, at least partially. It’s tragic and ugly and devastating and seriously messed up.

Legend Small (age 1)

Tamir Rice (age 12)

Adam Toledo (age 13)

Ma’Khia Bryant (age 15)

I made the massive mistake of watching the video the captured the murder of Adam Toledo. It was graphic and it shattered me. Over the weekend, I couldn’t stop sobbing and once I finally did, I stood with this giant question mark draped across my shoulders like a duffel bag of rocks.

“Why would I intentionally bring a human into this world if it has the possibility of being murdered by the very people who are supposed to help protect the innocent?”

“Do I have the emotional capacity to deal with losing a child to murder?”

“What is the likelihood of me being even *more* anxious about their safety in addition to all the other risks that could compromise their safety?”

“Would it be worth it?”

Granted, there are some other factors involved as well. Some even more personal than this and some less heavy.

So I've been doing some processing and soul sifting... It’s certainly interesting to observe the way I went from being certain about not wanting children to suddenly really wanting them and now being skeptical. Perhaps the time spent wanting them was a trauma response. Perhaps it was a way I believed I could feel more whole. More complete. Perhaps I would. But I’m unconvinced that’s a good reason to enter into the very consuming and committed journey of motherhood. Perhaps it was also the logic aspect... I’m good with kids; kids are easy for me. Still, not a convincing reason. And perhaps it was to get back something I had lost. Maybe. That would make the most sense.

Since my family is all about kids, there is also this... Expectation and even subtle pressure that in order to fulfill my role most throughly as a member of the family and as a woman, I should get married and have kids. Someone in my extended family told me once that they often associate me with those who are 19 and 20, because I’m single and childless like them. And all of my other cousins around my age are at least married. Another family member pulled me aside and told me she wouldn’t judge me if I got IVF. So it’s not really my imagination or projected pressure, it’s an actual mentality and while those comments were pretty hurtful at the time, I also see them as a thermometer for what my family values. Perhaps that also played a role... Wanting kids in order for them to accept me more, rather, to feel like I belong in my family more (which sheds light on a deeper topic altogether). It’s interesting. I’m trying to observe these things and not assign too much meaning to the big emotions. I’m trying to simply be aware and take note. Collect the observations and examine them more closely. It’s a practice I’m trying to implement in other parts of my life as well. I was talking to someone about this recently and he challenged me (called me out, really) on something. Basically he asked if I pull back from people or get defensive when they express expectations for my life or opinions on how they perceive my life. Do I let them be different from me, even when it comes to their ideas of me and how my life looks to them, letting it roll? Or, do I create distance and walls out of defensiveness?

And I totally do the latter. Not proud of it but hey, since I’m already being brutally honest I may as well own some of my ish. It was good for me to hear and be mindful of because perhaps their opinions ought not get that much power over me. And to be clear, I do think there’s a difference between what I’m describing and healthy boundaries when people get disrespectful or demanding.

But it’s tricky when you also want to be challenged and grow, and in order to do that, you have to let people close to you. In order to get feedback that you don’t just discard when it’s too uncomfortable, you have to accept what is said. Even if it hurts. And that means their words must hold value and power.

I’m not going to ask how you navigate that because I’m not really looking for advice on any of this. But I am sharing and attempting to be vulnerable because it feels isolating to have all these thoughts swarming my head (ya know, this being free therapy and all). And maybe, someone else has had some of these thoughts too and feels incredibly alone in them. I firmly believe that a remedy to remove the power of those big thoughts or feelings is by talking about them. By saying, “me too.” By connecting with each other and being vulnerable. I mean, isn’t that what all of us want at the end of the day? To connect with others, being able to be ourselves honestly and know that someone out there understands you? Maybe that’s just the enneagram four in me (if you know, you know).

yours truly,

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the group in society never addressed

3:43 PM

disclaimer: usually around this time of the year, my mental health takes a crash. between winter and struggling with my birthday, as well as some hard dates, it’s just rough. this year is certainly no exception with the pandemic, lack of normalcy, and constant political tension from the recent election and upcoming inauguration.

something i’ve been thinking about a lot lately, is the demographic i fall into and how there is such a lack of resources and just conversation around this group of folks. that demographic is the single folks who haven’t been married, haven’t had kids, and sincerely and desperately want to. the folks who aren’t super caught up in a career path and don’t want to. the folks who are fairly content with their life but still have a deeeep desire to be a spouse and parent (it’s a paradox, i know). and i’m not talking about young 20-somethings. i’m talking about older 20-somethings and 30-somethings. there are sooo many Instagram pages, podcasts, books, and fb groups that cater to parents (especially moms) or married folks. there is this societal stigma around single adults and this misconception that they are unmarried and without children because they want to be. and to be fair, many are actively making those choices. but there’s also a good amount of people who are like myself. who want to be married. who want to be a parent. but simply aren't because that just isn’t the path life has for them at the moment. and it’s hard. can I say that? weeell i did. and i want to continue this honesty and vulnerability... it sucks.

it sucks to want something so badly and make steps toward it but it doesn’t pan out the way it needs to. it sucks to have all of your close friends in different stages of life and not be able to fully relate. it puts this weird distance between me and them for some reason- as if i don’t have as much to offer in my friendship due to this lacking. i don’t say this to guilt trip (and certainly, i have some friends who are wonderful and welcoming and love me really well), but to speak plainly and address this bizarre notion that value is indirectly attached to title or stage of life. we in America attach success and accomplishment and worthiness to being married and having kids and in doing so, isolate and push away those who aren’t in that same stage of life. don’t get me wrong, i understand the importance, and even need of having friends that get where you are in life on a personal level. i really do. but my friends don’t have more to offer me because they’re married or a parent. and in that same way, i don’t have less to offer because i don’t. and i think if you ask people, they wouldn’t come right out and say that they believe this notion... yet... i receive this message from our society every day. it’s assumed by capital S Society that if one is not married or having children by 25, it clearly means that they don’t want those things. so to consider the possibility that one does, is, apparently baffling. and i don’t say this purely on speculation or observation, but experience. i’ve had family and friends say the most well meaning things but sometimes it is tone deaf. things like, “soak up your singleness! you’ll miss it!” or, “i had no idea you wanted to get married and have kids. I just assumed... since you don’t yet...” or my personal (non) favorite, “just trust God. it’ll happen when the time is right.” As IF i’m not trusting? or that something is wrong right now? oof. none of those things are relevant, especially when those comments are a follow up from a person expressing how much they are hurting and wish their life looked different.

i think too often, men get overlooked in this group of folks. i get it, women have the whole biological clock working against them in a way that men just don’t. but it also makes me wonder... do they feel seen or validated in that hurt or deep desire? do they feel relieved? maybe. i’m not a man so i couldn’t tell ya. but i wouldn’t be surprised if they feel their desire to be a spouse or parent is belittled or brushed aside merely because they don’t have a reproductive time bomb. and it just makes me bummed to think about. all of this does. single folks generally feel alone anyway, and to feel put in a box until they “meet the requirements” to re-enter into society is terribly lonely.

in church, i’ve frequently heard the phrase, “use your season of singleness to serve!” and like, okay, sure. fill your time up. don’t sit around expecting life to just drop off your dreams on your door step like every purity culture conference told young girls. take up a new hobby or bring out an old one and pick it back up. volunteer. these aren’t bad things. but also... people have value even if they’re not doing anything “to serve”. and it doesn’t feel like that message is ever communicated. it feels like folks only have value and are “contributing to society” if they are serving in a way that leads to burn out, are on some sort of mission and by nature can’t plant roots within a stable community, tirelessly pursing a career that consumes all their time or are married or raising a child. what’s up with that? as a society, why don’t we respect people who live a modest, humble life? why don’t we commend people who are working a job they enjoy and have passion for even if it’s not where they want to be in 5-10 years? why don’t we communicate a person’s value as it is? why do we assign this separation between stages of life and dictate who can and can’t be friends with each other? why are folks continuously striving for the next achievement while simultaneously tsk-tsking folks for not arriving where they earnestly desire to be but truly don’t have control over? it’s mind boggling at best. at worst, it’s a major factor in the world of mental health in america. wanna know something?

i’m going to tell you the best way to get depression to win... isolate people. tell them their value is attached to their achievement. remind them their desires of being a spouse and a partner are solely on them to make happen and if it’s not happening, it’s directly because there is something wrong with that individual. tell them that what they feel is trite and to think positively anyway. tell them that if they only busy themselves enough, they won’t be reminded of their deep desire. but do all this indirectly and slap a bunch of justifiable stickers on it. extra points if techniques like gaslighting and platonic ghosting are involved. and then stand back, and watch. you’ll find a group of folks who either keep striving to meet the expectations set before them by Society. or, you’ll witness as i have witnessed, an increase in drug use, unhealthy relationship seeking, drunkenness, porn use, laziness, emotionally lashing out and then withdrawing, emotional stuffing, lack of motivation, further isolation, and then settlement. coping and numbing mechanisms. maybe it’s not that dramatic. maybe they just stop trying. they give up on that dream. they accept that they just aren’t cut out for being a spouse or parent because they’re too f***ed up. they buy into that lie. they accept defeat. and once a person accepts defeat, it’s really hard to dig them out of that hole and back standing on solid ground.

now that we reached that necessary level of heaviness and reality, may i challenge you? if you know someone who has risked being vulnerable with you enough to share their longings to be married and have kids- will you respond differently? will you listen to understand instead of respond? is there a way we can validate someone’s pain without assigning their worth to their current stage of life? will you invite in and welcome rather than pushing aside and divide? will you empathize and validate the difficulty? will you please not use God or timing as an accidental way of demeaning their desire? will you reach out and check in on them? most importantly, will you share this with others and encourage them to do the same?

humans aren’t meant to do life alone. we are supposed to be in community with each other. with people who are like us, and people who aren’t. if only we didn’t get so caught up in their status, culture, gender, faith, age or season of life. if only we didn’t get hung up on only being friends with people who are like us. if only we sought out folks who shared the same desire to know others and live out the notion that everyone has something to offer. everyone is worthy of friendship and community. and it’s up to us to open our arms and BE that community. we need to act like lives depend on it because to an extent, they do. people aren’t disposable, and high it’s time we stopped acting as if they are.

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easter; gray waters & holding the tension

2:24 PM

easter used to be my favorite holiday. partially because i genuinely loved the celebratory idea of hope and freedom, and admittedly, because i was tired of Christians ridiculing me for saying the fourth of july was my favorite holiday because it doesn’t have anything to do with Jesus. (“okay, but it *does* have to do with freedom, and that goes hand in hand with Jesus, right? no? okay.”)

there are a ton of other things i could say, but i want to move on because that’s not why i sat down to write. i’m writing to you dear friends, because i made a promise to be courageous this year. an aspect of being courageous is being vulnerable, especially about things that are uncomfy. here’s some uncomfy for ya.

this morning i watched a livestream of an Easter service at the church i used to attend in Denver. i haven’t listened to a sermon, gone to church, or opened a bible in a while. like, months upon months. i stopped all those things, not because i grew “lukewarm” or because i got busy. no, i did it intentionally because i finally took some questions off the shelf around and about Christianity. they had been sitting there for a while, unaddressed, even when i deconstructed my faith for the first time 6 years ago. i’m not talking about more “open handed issues” like predestination, hell, gifts of the spirit, or even same sex attraction being sinful. crucial ideologies of the Christian faith were up in the air. dusty questions about salvation, sanctification, the crucifixion, and jesus being god incarnate. i’ve resolved within myself some of those after grappling for 6 months. but two of them are left as question marks even now.

i’ve gone back and forth between not calling myself a Christian anymore and then a “sortof Christian” because i felt a fraud for claiming to be apart of a belief system when i didn’t hold many, many fundamental beliefs (often political) that the average American Christian held. and i really didn’t want people to make assumptions about my alignment on those topics if i did say i’m “a Christian”. where i was felt too complicated and too messy and too difficult to articulate. i was terrified of walking away from Christianity and telling friends and family, because i wasn’t sure what relationships would be left. fear of abandonment is real guys. but so is the intense need to be transparent and authentic (in case you’d like any more confirmation, yes, i am an enneagram four. hi.). i began simply saying, “i believe in god” and left it at that. i also avoided it because i didn’t want to debate with anyone about any of it. it was far too personal. and contrary to what some of you might think, i sincerely hate arguing. it makes my stomach whirl, my heart skip beats, and tears prick like needles in my eyes but i quickly shove aside those physical reactions in the midst of arguments and debates because i can’t seem weak or else my reality will get denied and i am just so tired of my reality getting denied so i argue sharply and in my defensiveness occasionally sprout off some verbal slap in the face intentionally so they will shut up and not deny my reality further. that was a run-on sentence if ever there was one, but i’m not going to correct it because i need you to feel the anxiety i feel. yes, i fully know that defensive mechanism is super not okay and i’m getting better at letting that ugliness die, instead pursuing connection in the midst of conflict. therapy is so helpful my doods.

back to topic. i don’t know what to refer to myself as when it comes to faith and god and all that jazz. so i’m not labeling myself. what i do know is this:
i believe in love. i believe love wins. i believe that love is enough. and i believe that god is love.

this doesn’t negate the tension in my head and heart, flooding into my daily life. i have been working so hard to build a dam up against this flood in order to prevent drowning.

the dam burst this week.

i thought i was going to drown, then i remembered that i know how to lie on my back and float. so here i am, floating. and in this floating, i hold the tension.

the tension between suffering and hope.

between anger and affection.

between grief and joy.

the tension between gratitude and disgust.

between doubt and empathy.

between excitement and sadness.

for years now, i have grown weary of holding the tension to the point of avoidance. it’s heavy and sticky and unpleasant. i have shifted its weight and grasped to hold on, like when moving an awkward piece of furniture out of a room with a stupidly narrow door somewhere in virginia in the middle of july. sweat streams down your skin inside your tank top clinging to your body and the furniture starts to slip from your wet hands. you don’t know how it got into the room to begin with, but feel a twinge of determination to strategize mix with strong desire to let it fall to the ground so you can get some ice water. the tension.

today, i am done refraining from picking up that awkward piece of furniture and instead i’m holding it. because in doing so, i am no longer denying my own reality. i am no longer attempting to protect myself. i am no longer separating the black from the white, with one hand pressed to one side and the other halting the opposite side, but letting the two slam together, creating a perfect gray.

it is in this gray that i find parts of myself again. it is in this gray that i feel an inner peace i’ve not felt since i was a relatively sheltered 18yo, confined by the ease that growing up in Colorado Springs brings. back before i learned about the strength of addiction and the ache of accidental death and anguish of heartbreak. before i understood how precious community is, how new cities can become home, and the unexplainable power of love and acceptance. here, now, is a peace rippling over my toes as if i am standing in the creek in southern Monument with the lightness of my friends laughing, as we splash each other’s thick cotton t-shirts with the words “wing like eagles” printed across them. wings like eagles. yes. that is where i choose to sit in this tension. on the magnificent wings of this mighty bird who looks so fragile and elegant from far away. the tension, the paradox; utterly unorthodox. that is where i am.

if you find yourself in the gray waters too, i hope you’ll float with me. hold that tension as we sit on the wings of eagles. we are the truth seekers. the joy seekers. the deep feelers. the pursuers of authenticity. the believers in sole answer of love.

with deep affection and anguish,

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the courage to be vulnerable

7:17 PM

Vulnerability. Even typing that word creates small bubbles of emotions that rise to the surface and pop! Quickly and unexpectedly. My chest has tiny tremors of tension and a few muscles in my arms tense. My breath catches or is held for the briefest moment..

For me, vulnerability is often associated with the words “risk”, “pain”, and “fear”. Not all the time though. There are a handful of people I feel free to be my full self with and feel safe to be vulnerable on the reg. I’m extremely grateful for those humans. They’ve stood by my side for years and continuously bring growth & goodness to my life. And they also give themselves permission to be vulnerable with me, which is a gift of such deep value.

But what do we do when we are vulnerable with someone and they don’t handle it well? What happens when we share parts of ourself with someone, parts that are dark, complicated, messy, and sources of pain? And they respond poorly, dismissing or ignoring what we gave, or worse make fun of it and don’t understand it? Or even more painful than that (for me personally), they walk away? Maybe not even immediately, but weeks, months, or years later. Someone we were vulnerable with, someone who we let in and thought was safe, leaves and we can’t take back the pieces of vulnerability given to them. Vulnerability is an exposure and a gamble- sometimes we don’t know what will happen after making the choice to be seen and heard. Sometimes we get surprised by someone- maybe someone who had been trustworthy in the past suddenly reacts in a hurtful way to emotions or thoughts we share.

When that happens, we are given two options: to turn inward and allow that situation to mold our future opportunities of vulnerability and decrease the likelihood of doing so, or continue being vulnerable. In a song I was listening to today, a lyric said, “I would tell you all my secrets, wrap your arms around my weakness; if the only other option's letting go
I'll stay vulnerable.” It caused me to stop and consider if that was healthy and if I do this. Don’t mishear me, I’m not suggesting devaluing our heart and times of vulnerability, giving them to people who continuously respond in a way that is hurtful. I don’t think the artist was suggesting or supporting that either. Boundaries are good and not every is someone we can always be vulnerable with all the time. But how much easier is it to allow walls to grow higher and higher, especially after experiencing some type of hurt after being vulnerable? Trust issues form and we feel justified in hiding away the parts of us we hold close, potentially not even letting those who are trustworthy in to those spaces we’ve worked so hard to protect. So then, those places never get to show themselves and yes, we are kept safe, but we are also limiting ourselves from being fully known and therefore, fully cherished and embraced. By withholding parts of us in the name of protecting ourselves, we are hindering ourselves from belonging and being cared for. We are taking away the possibility of authenticity and connection, the things every single human craves and longs for.

We are robbing ourselves of love.

Rather than allowing the times of vulnerability mishandled or rejected to hold me back and build fake ways of keeping myself safe, I want it to catapult me into growth- to continue choosing vulnerability. Doing so requires immense courage. It makes sense that vulnerability can cause a physical stress reaction, let alone a psychological and emotional reaction. But vulnerability also births and promotes healing, change, healthfulness, and growth. It is the diving board going into the pool of belonging.

... Again, no, that isn’t synonymous with not having boundaries or honoring your heart and emotions. Those can coexist, and that is healthy.

Lately, I have been smacked in the face with the word, “courage”. Continuing to choose vulnerability is a more specific way I am going to pursue and have courage in the days to come. I want to keep sharing myself with others, building connection and community. I also hope to be a safe enough space for others to be vulnerable in return. I want to listen well, respond in kindness, and never let my emotions decide my actions. I long to be trustworthy, honest, transparent, and respectful. I want people to feel seen and known by me; to feel like they belong and are cared for. And sure, the reason behind that is because those are core longings of my own heart.

But, I mean, aren’t they longings everyone has?

I’d love to hear your own thoughts on this, so feel free to comment or reach out. I realize doing so for some may require vulnerability. I hope you are encouraged to choose vulnerablity courageously, even if not with me. I hope you find a space where you can belong, be known, and be loved. I hope you allow yourself to be that for others- which again, can be an act of vulnerability. You can do it. I believe in you.

~ yours truly

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the last ten years

12:34 PM

I have mixed feelings about posting (and even writing) something about this whole “past decade/new decade” thing. Not to hate on the people who are doing that (because here I am doing it too) but jeez, it’s just so. much.

I recognize that it’s potentially so overwhelming primarily because the past decade contained some of the most extreme years of growth and change for any human (ages 15-25). But seriously. It’s been so damn much. I have lost more than I want to say or could even begin to articulate. And I don’t want this entire post to be sad because though the sadness was real and intense and valid, it didn’t make up the whole ten years. However, I have struggled with depression the entire time. I don’t say this for the sake of being dramatic- I genuinely shouldn’t still be here. But at some point, between my friends keeping me alive and healing enough to care to fight on my own, I made it. I’m here. I’m grateful and glad. I’m relieved. I don’t have time to write all that I’ve learned. But the memories pass through my mind like pages from a flip book. I see how I’ve grown. How I’ve hurt in deep anguish. How I’ve gotten up and kept walking after grief. How I’ve desperately looked for joy in the little things; happiness is something I get to create, not to just wait around and hope it happens. How I’ve loved a few people and don’t talk to any of them now. How that makes me sad because they’re amazing and each of them all thought friendship was possible after the break up.

It’s not.

And that’s somehow okay, but I still wish they had been right. One in particular marked me in ways that will stay forever, I think. And I think I’m at the place now where I’m only grateful for the marks he left. I’m sillier and I like myself more because of him. I think about my friends that are gone, by death or by drifting. I miss some more than others but loss is still loss, ya know?

I think about the good. Oh wow. Oh so much good! Like first kisses and fireflies on summer nights. Laughing with my cousins and staying up till 2am. I think about baseball games and football games. I think of Wednesdays and New Life Church and youth group evenings and pestering my ginger buddy while he worked. I think about school dances and college pathways and nutella. I think about theater and dance routines, horse camp vaulting and t-shirt writings. I think of a Swedish boy and his love for coffee with pepparkakor. I think of magical moments and sneaking smirnoff ice and sugary mike’s to Fox Run Park at 18. I think of summer 2013. It was perfect. And if you know, you know. *wink* If you know... Then you are a wonderful gift that I received in the past decade:

hey you, I love you bunches and I’m eternally thankful for you, that summer, and where we are now.

I think about reaching the top of the mountain and the hands that helped me get there. I think about leaving Colorado and venturing to the Midwest. I think about all the souls I got to know and all the ones I still know there. I think about how I persevered and fought hard. I think about the stuff that no one knows and might not ever know; how I’m grateful for therapy, learning about boundaries, and healing. I think about all the question marks I had at the beginning of the decade, and now they’re mostly erased. I think about the times I made poor choices and am now able to laugh about them (or make demented jokes- same thing, right?). I think about the ones who stood beside me, in front of me, around me and behind me; thank you. I think about how much of a hippie I’ve become and blame Hallster entirely (ps. you’re forever the best thing that happened to me in 2014). I think about the rest of the years after and the dancing, moving, newness, traveling, and moments of feeling loved. I think about red couch hangz. I think about my gypsy soul. I think about freedom. I think about exploring cities, bonfires, and whiskey sippin’ midnights. I think about coming home and figuring out what it means to come home. I think about ice skating and downtown wanderings. I think about Taylor Swift and concerts and riding horses in the wind. I think about Hillwren and pick up trucks. I think about Kansas City and how it ruined me with it’s third wave coffee shops. I think about lakes and sunshine, hot tubbing and long hikes. I think about weddings and new babies. So. Many. Weddings.

I think about camping trips and happy accidents and my blonde haired best friend. I think about jungle eyes, jazz, and late nights talking. Dreaming and doing our best. I’m proud. I’m proud of me and I’m proud of those in my community. For all the coffee dates with friends, geeking over hipster things, food adventures, and spending time with the most beautiful people to walk this earth, I cannot do anything else but smile and get misty eyed. We have all had challenges for sure. And we’ve all had triumphs and wins. We’ve been smacked in the face by bricks and clothed in peace and joy. We’ve been broken and found healing. Redemption.

I haven’t been able to shake that word: redeem. Maybe that’s my “word for the year”. #redeem2020 #ifyouknowyouknow

I don’t have much to say about this new year or new decade... I am hopeful, that it will be rich, full of goodness, dreams, and kindness. Dear two thousand twenty, please be kind.

love & hope passed to you,

yours truly

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grief pt. ii (joy)

12:38 AM

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From Where I'm Standing

an outside look on healthy masculinity

heavy weights & s o u l s i f t i n g

the group in society never addressed

easter; gray waters & holding the tension

the courage to be vulnerable

the last ten years

grief pt. ii (joy)

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