The Lies We Tell Ourselves

funny-dating-memesI don’t often feel the lack of a man in my life, but occasionally, in the few spare minutes I have here and there, I realize that I really would like a partner. In these moments, I typically pull up the Bumble app.. Maybe there are other venues that work better, but as I said, I don’t want it quite enough to lay money down for it, and Bumble is free. So in these moments of weakness, I open up the app, and–let’s be honest–I go man shopping.

There are so very many problems with this. For one, my ambivalence to the idea of a relationship probably means it’s doomed before it ever begins. The fact that it really does feel like shopping…well, that’s just kind of sad and wrong. And, perhaps the biggest problem of all, is the fact that all you have to go on to find your next potential soulmate is a bunch of pictures and a postage-stamp sized bio… it’s pretty much inevitable that this becomes an exercise in lookism. And let’s be honest. No matter how good I might (or might not) look at 42, I can’t (at least in my head) compete with the bright, shiny new penny 20 somethings.

I am a confident, funny, and interesting woman in person. On paper…well, it’s hard to do myself justice. But online dating is just the way of the world these days. How else are we supposed to meet someone? I teach at a high school. Not like there are a lot of options there for obvious reasons. I go to a small church that seems to be comprised of 75% women and 25% married men. Again, no dating pool.

meet cuteI never was into the bar scene, and any guy my age who still is into the bar scene…well, let’s just say, I want a man not a boy and they are not to be found there. So, unless I’m one of the lucky ones to meet my soulmate at Whole Foods as we ponder which melon to buy and reach for the same melon at the same time… I’m stuck with an app.–despite all it’s shortcomings.

On Bumble, despite my education, experience, and general awesomeness, I am reduced to a picture. And let’s be honest, that is a cesspool of insecurity right there.

As if aging alone didn’t stir up enough phantom doubts of faded beauty, I have the lovely memories of past failure to spar with on a regular basis. As a woman who was cheated on, lied to, and eventually dumped, I often find my mind a battlefield. Luckily, as a professor of Psychology, I usually know how to win this battle.

how-to-practice-positive-self-talkI have long understood the concept of self-talk, aka. the narratives we tell ourselves in our heads. Because of this, when I catch a stray hurtful, self-defeating thought flitting through my brain, I pin it down, confront it with truth, and make sure that my emotions aren’t the ones fueling my self-concept, that truth is. I understood this long before I became a counselor or Psychology professor so, needless to say, at this point, I’ve gotten really good at it.

Despite this, I have struggled with my sense of self. Often times, I find myself wrestling with my worth based on my perceived worth in the eyes of others. Just a few days ago, I found myself feeling really cruddy as a result of this very thing.

online jokeThis weekend, in one of my rare “wouldn’t it be nice to have a man to talk to and who cared about me” moments, I pulled up the Bumble app.. As is too often the case, I was mostly underwhelmed. Let’s just say the dating pool looks more like a stagnant pond at this point of my life: the good ones are married, the newly divorced good ones are in some sort of midlife crisis and want to date a series of empty-headed, big-busted twenty year olds, which leaves mostly the socially awkward, unmotivated, and just plain scary candidates for the rather amazing single forty year old women out there. Typically, this is where I half-heartedly swipe right on a couple of guys who don’t look “too bad,” but leave me feeling no real enthusiasm in what has become an all too familiar routine of ennui.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve gone on dates. Quite a number of them. There even have been a couple guys who made it to a second date, mainly because I convinced myself that, though I still felt zero enthusiasm, they were “nice” and maybe, after warming up to them a bit, I might somehow grow some enthusiasm. Yep, I’m a die-hard optimist, but so far that optimism hasn’t panned out.

This weekend was a bit different. Every once in a while, I’ll run across a guy who I feel some enthusiasm for. Like any self respecting woman, I have my list of non-negotiables as well as preferences, and this guy seemed like we might actually have a shot at interesting if not soul mate.

bumble-vs-tinderSo, I swiped right, and sure enough…Boom! Match! He had swiped right on me too. I pondered a moment for a decent opening line, typed it out and hit send. And then I waited.

And waited…

And waited…

Guys only have 24 hours to respond on Bumble before the match disappears. And as the time ticked away, and there was no response, I found myself with a big question mark.

Why? What changed? Why did a guy, who thought I was a Match, change his mind?

But the thing was, there were no answers, not even potential answers, there were just questions.

The problem with this is that the brain is a meaning making machine. In the absence of answers, our brain makes up it’s own, and too often, it’s our insecurities that rule these narratives. And I am certainly no exception to this.

Woman-mirror-600x300I’ve been feeling a bit frumpy lately. I’ve gained a few pounds, I’ve gained a few wrinkles, and I got a haircut that makes me feel, well, kind of blah. So my insecurities piped up with their version of events:

It’s that picture you added–the full length one. Clearly, you must look fat. I mean, look at those arms! Tall works if you’re lean, but you’re clearly not lean, and that is all that comes across in that photo–very, very un-lean. Delete the picture. Hide yourself. You do better in person.”

negative self talkAll it took was that whisper through my brain, and my brain ran away with it. I found myself eyeing my figure in the mirror, noticing every ounce I’ve gained, every little soft spot. I found myself ditching my heels for flats, though I love my heels. Why accent my height, when my height is already so noticeable? I found myself changing my outfit–not once, but often several times–because I “looked fat.”

All because my insecurities wrote the script of their version of events and my brain which wanted meaning said, “Sure! That works! Makes sense. That must be the reason.”

But I literally have no clue what the real reason was.

Perhaps it was a busy week at work, and he was too distracted to worry about Bumble….

Perhaps he didn’t get the notification at all and so has no clue that we even matched…

Perhaps he just started dating someone and he wants to see what happens before he deletes the app….

Perhaps he’s really married, and his wife has gotten suspicious, and so he’s decided to lay low for a while…

Perhaps he doesn’t like educated women…

Perhaps…You get the idea.

the lies we tell ourselvesI literally have no idea why he didn’t respond, and the vast number of the possibilities have nothing to do with how I did, or didn’t, look in that dress.

And yet, I was so convinced that it was the picture, that I sent it to a guy friend asking for his reassurance that I didn’t “look fat.”

When this happened, I didn’t really see it for what it was. It was only as I was reading Brene’ Brown’s book, “Rising Strong” yesterday that I began to see this situation clearly.

Though I have a good handle on my inner self-talk, I have allowed what Jonathan Gottschall, a writer and English Professor, calls confabulation to act as a runaway train in my mind. He explains that there’s growing evidence that “ordinary, mentally healthy people are strikingly prone to confabulate in everyday situations.”

Okay, so what does that even mean?

Confabulation is a term often applied to individuals who have dementia or a brain injury. When these individuals have a “hole” in their story, they fill it with something that they decide is true, but is, in actuality, false. There is a growing pile of evidence that suggests that this is not a problem isolated to those with memory or brain trauma–it is an issue for all of us–on an ongoing basis.

Brene’ Brown goes so far as to call these stories we tell ourselves “conspiracy theories,” and I believe that is a fitting descriptor. A conspiracy theory, by definition is a story that is based on limited real data and imagined data that is blended together into a coherent and emotionally satisfying version of reality…isn’t that exactly what I did with the lack of a response and the picture? I had extremely limited, circumstantial at best, evidence. And yet it “made sense” if I bought into the validity of my insecurities…

I think if you are honest with yourself, you can quickly see where you have done the very same thing.

Perhaps it was a fight with your spouse. You interpret his reaction as unloving because you are convinced he doesn’t love you anymore…

Perhaps it was the “indifference” of your wife because she no longer finds you “sexually attractive” because you are feeling insecure about those love handles…

Perhaps it’s that your best friend doesn’t think your friendship is “important enough” to respond to your message because you are feeling like no one cares…

Perhaps it’s that old classmate who “pretended” not to see you at Target…

Perhaps it’s that you didn’t get the promotion because your boss “doesn’t respect women…”

stories

Could any and all of these be true? Possibly. But are they? Or are you allowing the 

runaway train of your insecurities to script the incomplete stories of your life? Are you buying into self-created conspiracies that confirm your doubts?

I think you should start taking a closer look at these scripts and asking yourself what parts are true, and what parts are conjecture.

I know I’m going to start paying a whole lot more attention to these stories. I want my stories to be based on truth, not fear and doubt. And, as we are learning, what we think is so often the truth we make.

 

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What kind of Hero are you?

As an English teacher, I am very familiar with the concept of the “Hero’s Journey.” It is an archetypal construct that we see repeated over and over again in literature, and for very good reason–it touches close to home–it is a reflection of the human experience.

Heroes-pinArchetypes, if you’re not familiar with the idea, are, in essence, symbols, ideas, or concepts that we, as human beings, all hold in common. Carl Jung believed that this commonality is part of what he termed genetic memory–in other words, memory that is quite literally passed down through our DNA.

An easy example would be mice. Why in the world do so many of us fear mice? They are itty, bitty little things but they send many people squealing, running for cover, or hopping on the nearest chair.

Why? And why only some people, but not all?

Well, in terms of genetic memory, we theorize that it stems from our ancestors run-in with the Black Plague. Mice, or more correctly, rats spread the disease that decimated Europe. For those of us who run from the furry, little creatures, our ancestors watched their friends and family die around them. All because of the little, itty, bitty creatures. And they passed the consequent fear of those little, furry creature on to us, their progeny, (however many times removed).

mouseThose of you who don’t run screaming for the hills at the sight of a mouse? Either your ancestors were fortunate enough to escape a run in with the Black Death or they simply didn’t pass that fear on to their ancestors. Thus, mice are just cute, little, furry creatures to you.

I’m quite sure that someone in my line must have watched their whole family drop like dominoes because I absolutely HATE the little things myself.

Archetypes stem from these universally held concepts such as good conquers evil. It also extends to colors: black symbolizing death, fear, and rot. Or to settings: the mountains symbolizing obstacles, adversity, a journey, etc.. Archetypes permeate our society in big and little ways–and none more so than the Hero’s journey.

The-Herošs-Journey_text-imageThe idea of the Hero’s Journey is quite basic. An ordinary person is called out from his ordinary life by something extra-ordinary. He is called to a road he never intended to travel. He struggles with what that road is asking of him. He longs to go back to the way things were “before.”

In literature, the hero or heroine ultimately come to terms with the call and rises to the occasion, overcoming the obstacles and embracing his hero nature.

Not necessarily the case in real life.

What do I mean?

depositphotos_87220294-stock-photo-boy-warrior-fighting-with-dragonsWell, just like all archetypes, I believe this one was born directly out of real life. As I’ve established before, all people, at some point, are going to be forced to wrestle with dragons (aka adversity) whether that comes in the form of sickness, betrayal, violence, death, etc….the “dragons” take many forms, but in the end, we all must wrestle with them.

Granted, it is rarely as obvious as Harry Potter being called out of the mundane life to one of wizardry or as Katniss Everdeen being called to take on the corruption of her society, but still, we are all, everyone of us, called to our own, personal hero’s journey.

But too often, we don’t come to terms with the journey. We don’t rise to the occasion. We don’t defeat the dragon.

As anyone who has followed my blog knows by this point, I am a huge fane of Brene’ Brown. In her book “Rising Strong,” she states:

You may not have signed up for a hero’s journey, but the second you fell down, got                 your butt kicked, suffered a disappointment, screwed up, or felt your heart break, it               started…it happens to every single one of us. Without exception. The only decision we           get to make is what role we’ll play in our own lives.”

If you read my last blog, and reflected on how you typically react to adversity, you should have a decent idea of what “role” you typically take in terms of your hero’s journey.

Let’s take a moment to envision it in the role of a story…do you rise to the occasion? Do you overcome? Or when Voldemort enters the scene, do you run for cover? When society is falling apart around your head, do you pretend that nothing is happening?

Do you like the ending of your story?

If your answer is no, then I have some really good news for you: in this story YOU get to choose the ending.

What kind of hero do you want to be? 

This doesn’t always mean you win, at least in one sense of winning. Sometimes our Voldemort is cancer, and the cancer wins. Sometimes that car accident steals your daughter from you. Sometimes your husband leaves you for another woman.

When looking at that sense of winning, we don’t always win, but we do still win.

An easy example for me personally is my daughter, Serena. Many of you know that my daughter died of SMA almost 16 years ago. That was my first real call to the hero’s journey. It was the initial conflict. It was the first real breaking of my heart. She died. I didn’t win in that sense of winning. But I did win.

How in the world can I say that?

hidden strengthBecause I chose my ending, and that ending was to wrestle with the pain, to “lean into it” as I like to say, and to choose to defy my circumstances, and to overcome.

I chose my ending. We all get to choose our endings.

How does this work? How do we actually do this?

I’m going to refer to Brene’ Brown a lot as I explain this. When I first walked through this personally, Brene’ Brown hadn’t written her books, and I had no clue who she was, but as I’ve read her books, I’ve seen the reflection of my own journey, and I’ve seen the reflection of the journeys others have made around me, in her work. My life and my observations validate what Brown found in her research.

If you’ve ever wondered why the same event can cause one person to rise, and the other to sink into bitterness, brokenness, or addiction, she can answer that question. She unpacks the concept of resilience.

If you want to choose to write your own story, if you want to change the ending, it means “getting uncomfortable; it’s choosing courage over comfort.” If you’re going to write your ending, you need to be willing to get down in the mud and wrestle. It’s going to get messy.

Our instinct is often the opposite, to disengage to self-protect. To deny what we feel, to hide from it. In Brown’s words “We can’t chart a brave new course until we recognize exactly where we are, get curious about how we got there, and decide where we want to go.”

Brown breaks this down into a two step process.

1) engaging with our feelings

2) getting curious about the story behind the feelings–what emotions we’re                           experiencing and how they are connected to our thoughts and behaviors

This sounds deceptively simple. It’s not. Oftentimes we deny what we feel saying that “we didn’t care anyway.” Or we mask hurt with anger. Or we transfer emotions we don’t understand onto a person who is an “easy” target (aka our spouse or child, brother or sister, etc.). Or we self-flagellate. The list goes on.

All of these are methods of not engaging with our emotions. They are ways we choose to disengage.

When I lost Serena. I was angry. I was angry at God. I was angry at mothers who still had their children. I was angry at the whole world.

I remember how that anger made a lot of people uncomfortable. It wasn’t “Christian” they said. Ironically, I never felt that condemnation from God. From Him, I felt a sense of encouragement, that He was not intimidated by my anger, I also felt a recognition that denying what I felt wouldn’t make the feelings disappear. I had to wrestle with them to get through them.

When we deny what we feel, we get stuck. I’ve seen it happen to so many people. They deny the hurt happened. They deny the violation of what was done to them. They pretend that they are not angry at the abandonment they feel. They pretend the brokenness isn’t really there. And so they get stuck right there, in that moment where the hurt, abandonment, violation or brokenness occurred.

The movie “The Shack” illustrated this so beautifully. When the main character asks “God” in agony why he would bring him back to face what was done to his daughter, “God” simply says, “Because this is where you got stuck.”

We get stuck at the moment where we stop dealing with our pain. It has to be dealt with. There is no other option.

Ignoring what we feel does not make it go away–it lets it own us.

Brown puts it this way:

     The opposite of recognizing that we’re feeling something is denying our emotions. The           opposite of being curious is disengaging. When we deny our stories and disengage from       tough emotions, they don’t go away; instead, they own us, they define us. Our job is not         to deny the story, but to defy the ending.

When Serena died, I could have become bitter. I could have lost my faith. I could have cut myself off from risking, from loving. Many do after getting shattered the way that the death of a child shatters you. Knowing that kind of pain, you disengage, not wanting to be hurt like that again.

fallingBut I made the decision years ago, before I understood what that decision meant. Risk was worth the pain. To fly, you have to fall. To succeed you have to fail. To love you have to break.

Serena was the first step of my hero’s journey. There have been many failures and setbacks and heart breaks since. There have been many times when I have felt the temptation to disengage, to step back, to self-protect.

But I just can’t do it, because I know.

I know the truth.

Brown says that “courage transforms the emotional structure of our being” and I believe her; I feel it. There is no going back.

And I’m glad. I don’t want to go back, even when I do. I don’t want the easy out. It’s not an out at all. It’s chains. It’s a prison. It’s being stuck.

God, as He so often does, gives us the principle of this truth. We say it. But we rarely fully grasp His meaning.

“We know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.” Romans 8:28

Not just the good moments. Not just the easy ones. Not the comfortable ones.

Everything.

Contest-flier_1But we have to choose to defy our ending, and let Him work His magic in us.

He wants us to lean in and wrestle with our adversity like Jacob wrestled with God–to wrestle and not let go until the blessing which comes out of the adversity is ours.

When we trust God enough to lean into our hero’s journey, it leads to our good, our growth, and our overcoming. It is the ending we want, the ending He created us for, and it is how we rise strong despite horrific circumstances, crippling pain, and agonizing betrayal.

We lean in, we wrestle, and we trust for the ending that can be.

Choose to be brave. It’s what you were made to be.

 

 

 

Who are you? A scrapper? A volcano? A House of Mirrors? Let me tell you how you can find out.

In my English classes, we have a unit called “Dealing with Difficulty.” One of the things we have found as educators is that students, from a very young age, don’t like to “deal” with the difficulty they confront in life. And it starts with the small stuff: the words they don’t know, concepts they don’t understand, allusions they have no frame of reference difficultyfor. When they hit these parts of a text, they skip over them. They try to make sense of the piece using just the easy parts–and so their understanding is fundamentally flawed. They miss the big picture, the purpose, the ah, ha moment.

All because they didn’t want to deal with the difficulty.

We so often are just like my students. We skip over, hide, ignore the difficult pieces, so we never learn. We never grow.

We just keep making the same mistakes over and over again–because we skip the middle.

One of my favorite Ted Talks is by a lady named Caroline McHugh, and she puts it this way. Many of us claim to have years of experience, let’s say 20 years of experience, but in reality, we only have one year of experience 20 times–in other words, if we are not learning from that experience, we have gained nothing and are just repeating the same mistakes 20 years later, that we made at the very beginning.

Many people live life in this way, and it all comes down to difficulty: loss, failure, adversity.

Adversity seems to be the theme of my adult life. I’ve certainly had more than my fair share of it. Perhaps that is why I seem to have a heightened awareness of its impact–often wildly different–on people.

Adversity is a given–not a possibility, but rather an inevitability. It will happen. It’s just a matter of when.

Perhaps this is why adversity doesn’t really scare me. You can’t run from it, you can’t hide from it, and you can’t wish it away. It simply is–pretending any differently is just a waste of breath, time, and energy.

fake-life-make-mistakes-Favim.com-2596418And yet it is what so many of us try to do.

We Americans like to photoshop our lives. We like things to be pretty. Wrapped up with a bow. Perfect and pristine.

But life is simply not like that. It is often ugly. And hard. And painful. It often isn’t fair. It’s often unjust. The good guys, quite frequently, lose.

Or at least in the traditional sense that is.

I don’t believe adversity, failure, loss, grief–difficulty in whatever form it takes, is loss.

I believe it is opportunity.

magic in the middleIn the words of Brene Brown “the magic happens in the middle.”

But we so often want to skip the middle.

What does she mean? What’s the middle? Well let me explain it using an analogy that is very personally applicable for me right now. Divorce.

As I mentioned in a previous blog,  everybody tends to react differently to a divorce. Many people want to jump very quickly from their former relationship, into a new one. They want to skip the middle. They want to move from brokenness straight into wholeness–but it doesn’t work that way.

The middle is hard. The middle is painful. It’s often lonely and it tastes a lot like failure. It is the place where our questions often don’t have answers and our fears loom large. It is where we question our worth and our value.

But it’s here in the middle where we learn. We learn what we did right and what we did wrong. We learn our areas of weakness and our areas of strength. We wrestle with our worth and come to realize that it does not come from another person, a talent, a career, or anything else outside of ourselves. Worthiness is a God given gift and it comes from who we are–or more aptly–whose we are.

wrestling in mudThe middle is like wrestling in the mud. You are going to get dirty. You will get beaten up. You’re going to feel every bruise, every scratch, every dagger to the heart.

And so most of us don’t want to go there. We like the safe, the easy, the pristine–and the middle is none of these things–so we will do anything in our power to avoid it.

Shonda Rhimes, the creator of Grey’s Anatomy and Scandal said this about adversity: “I don’t even know who a character is until I’ve seen how they handle adversity. Onscreen and offscreen, that’s how you know who someone is.”

Who are you?

Who am I?

In the face of adversity, how do we measure up?

The truth of that statement really zinged me, and it got me thinking about the different approaches I have seen to adversity. I know which one I am, which one are you?

ostrich-head-in-sandThe Ostrich: Do you have your head in the sand? Do you ignore your problems, pretending that, if I don’t acknowledge them, they’ll just go away?

The Coward: Do you run and hide from your problems? Do you leave a wake of broken relationships behind you, cutting people, jobs, connections off as the going gets tough?

house of mirrorsThe House of Mirrors (aka transference): Do you project your problems onto someone (anyone) else as a means of ignoring your problems? Is it always a case of the blame game? It’s his fault because…. It’s her fault because….

The Volcano: Do you avoid dealing with the real issues by hiding in anger? Does anger seem to be the the only emotion you’re feeling these days? Then you’re probably a volcano, using anger as a shield for your real problems.

female-ec-the-damsel-in-distressThe Damsel in Distress: Do you tend to expect a white knight to come riding up to “fix it?” Do you tend to wait for someone to come and save you from your problems? Do you think that if only…(x), then all of these problems will go away? Then you probably fall into this category.

The Peacock: Do you tend to magnify your strengths, your talents, your looks in an effort to minimize your failures? Do you puff your ego so you don’t notice the hits you’ve taken? Well, then you’re just going to keep taking those hits and you’re going to start looking like a weight lifter with chicken legs, developed in some areas, and tragically weak in others…

hermit.pngThe Hermit: Do you cut off from everyone and everything? Avoiding life in an effort to ignore your problems? Do you hide in video games, tv shows, even books, in an effort to live in a different world to escape from your own? This category can often include those suffering from depression, in that depression, that completely disconnect.

The Scrapper: Are you a fighter? Are you willing to get down and dirty in your effort to overcome? Do you look failure in the eyes and determine to triumph? Then you are probably a scrapper and are in a pretty good place, learning from your set backs and overcoming difficulty. Congratulations–there aren’t too many of you out there!

No matter which role you tend to play, it doesn’t define you. The great part is knowledge–self awareness–is the first step in being different. You get to choose your role.

Don’t want to be a hermit?

Then choose to be a scrapper!

You can choose the role you get to play at any time, in every situation. It is all up to you.

Don’t know how? That’s okay! Check out my blog next week for the first installment on how to change the role you’re currently playing!

 

 

Are you a zombie? Am I? Would we even know if we are?

I watched “The Greatest Showman” the other day. It was a kind of spiritual journey for me. The sound track has been echoing in my head ever since. There were so many lessons, so many truths about living life embedded in the lyrics.

greatest showmanOne of the biggest is to simply wake the hell up.

In the song “Come Alive,” we hear a call to more. To figuratively “come alive.” To get off the treadmill and to become truly present in our lives.

To those of you who know me well, it’s a familiar mantra. I’ve often talked about getting stuck on life’s treadmill or the hamster wheel, but here in the middle part of my life, despite being aware of this tendency of human beings, I have often questioned if that is in fact where I am at: stuck in a rut, going through the motions.

     

     zombieYou stumble through your days

     Got your head hung low

     Your skies’ a shade of grey

     Like a zombie in a maze

     You’re asleep inside

     But you can shake away

 

    ‘Cause you’re just a dead man walking

     Thinking that’s your only option

     But you can flip the switch and brighten up your darkest day

     Sun is up and the color’s blinding

     Take the world and redefine it

     Leave behind your narrow mind

    You’ll never be the same

 

It goes on to say:

     And you know you can’t go back again

     To the world that you were living in

     ‘Cause you’re dreaming with your eyes wide open

Jackman is addressing a psychological truth here, though I doubt he even realized it.

brainOur brains are literally wired for novelty. Our brains are continually taking in so much stimulation that, if nothing changes, our brains decide that we just don’t need that information and so we don’t even perceive it. Essentially, our brain defaults to auto-pilot, or the zombie mode that Hugh Jackman refers to in his song.

What does this look like? Let me try to explain.

Have you ever been in a deep sleep, but bolt awake when the fan, the AC, or the furnace stops running? Why do you wake up when the background noise stops?

Because it’s a change. Our brain is listening to everything. Our brain hears the blood rushing through our veins, the ice dispenser when it drops ice in the middle of the night, the traffic on the street in front of your house. Our brain literally controls what we are aware of. It is continually making judgement calls on our behalf–and sometimes it gets it wrong.

For instance, if you’re a parent, you’re probably pretty familiar with conversations that go something like this:

“Gavin! Get down here! I have told you 5 times to pick up you backpack.”

“Geesh, Mom! Why are you so mad? All you had to do was ask.”

“I did–5 times.”

“No, you didn’t. This is the first time you asked.”

Sound familiar? It should, or something quite like it.

charliebrownThe reality is that, to kids, we are really pretty much like the adults in a Charlie Brown cartoon: “Waa, waa, waa, wa, waa…”

Our children are so used to the sound of our voices in the background that our brains literally tune us out. It is not your child deciding not to listen (or at least not most of the time), but their brain says, “Oh, this is normal, nothing has changed and so you don’t need to hear this.” But when mom’s voice switches to an angry tone the brain says, “Uh, oh. This you need to hear.”

Our brain does this in all areas of our life. What’s new, what’s novel, what’s different, it tells us is worth seeing. What is normal, expected, mundane–not so much.

This can cause an enormous problem in our day to day lives if we’re not careful.

Couple problems

One of the biggest and most common problems I have heard about in marriages is “he stopped seeing me.” I know that was the truth in my own marriage. The thing that we fail to understand is that that is not the exception–it is inevitable unless we make a conscious choice to keep seeing, to keep changing, and to keep our significant other in the forefront. He or she becomes “status quo” and in the language of the brain “nothing has changed” so we don’t need to notice or see, and we stop seeing.

One of the most frequent regrets I have heard people voice is not appreciating the time they had with their children enough before they are gone. It falls into the same category: once we get used to something, we stop seeing it and appreciating it. The adage “you don’t know what you have until it’s gone” embodies this truth. You really don’t know until something changes, the change being the person leaving–and all of a sudden, often when it’s too late, you are aware of just how much that person meant.

birth photoIf you’re a parent, think back to what you felt the first time your firstborn was put into your arms. Do you love him or her any less today that you did that day? But how often do you feel now what you felt then? It takes a choice, a determination to think about, and focus on those little people you love so much, and then it all comes flooding in.

My children are growing. My son turned 14 this year. I have four years left with my little fella (not so little anymore–towering over 6 feet tall). The years have sped by, and I am all too aware of the moments lost and not savored. I have made a choice to choose to actively see my children. To force my brain to think about and appreciate these little miracles I get to live with, at least for the time being, on an almost daily basis.

We do the same thing in all areas of our life. We get used to the routine. The job that once thrilled us becomes “normal.” The activity that once excited us becomes “mundane.” The landscape that once filled us with awe becomes the background. Emerson talks about this in his work “From Nature.”

 “To speak truly, few adult persons can see nature. Most persons do not see the sun. At             least they have a very superficial seeing. The sun illuminates only the eye of the                       man, but shines into the eye and the heart of the child.”

Jim Elliot QuoteEmerson didn’t know the neuroscience that caused this “superficial seeing” but he had certainly observed it–as have we all if we are honest.

One of the choices I have made this year has been to be more present. In this modern world we live in we are inundated with noise. Being present requires reflection, and reflection can’t be had when there is a little glowing screen in the palm of our hand distracting us. I’ve made the decision to put that glowing screen down more often. To put it out of sight. To mute it.

To be present in my world.

I’ve also made the decision to consciously see what my brain thinks I don’t need to see. Most days on my way to work, I prayed that God would help me see who and what I needed to see. I consciously looked for the divine moments, the real life moments I was put in this job to be a part of.

You have to understand, in the life of a teacher, the moments fly by. We are assaulted with questions and decisions, class after class, and if I don’t make a conscious effort to see my students, I can go through the entire day jumping from crisis to crisis and/or just hitting auto pilot through my lessons.

But I didn’t get into teaching just to fill young minds with knowledge. I became a teacher to make a difference.

By being conscious, I was able to help students with real trauma and loss in their lives. I was able to inspire some. I was able to let them know that there was someone there who cared. How many of these encounters would I have missed if I hadn’t made a conscious effort to see?

How many did I miss because I am still a long way from living this way every moment?

I want to live with my eyes wide open. I want to see what’s right in front of me. The people who matter the most. The people who need me the most. The possibilities that are right there for the taking–if I only have the eyes to see.

Do you have the eyes to see those moments in your own life? The ones that really matter? The ones that are so very easily overlooked?

If not, in the words of Hugh Jackman, stop being a “zombie in a maze, flip the switch, and come alive.”

I promise you, you won’t regret it!

 

The myth of perfection: being authentic in a photoshopped world

chris-hemsworth-thorAnyone who knows me, knows that I have a bit of a crush on Chris Hemsworth (a bit creepy I suppose being that I’m 40, but hey, we can all imagine, right?!). Blonds are actually not my typical type, but I make exceptions for the long-haired viking type. There is just something so ruggedly male about them. It’s that same quality that has me crushing on Clay Matthews from the GreenBay Packers and the vampire Erick from the Sookie Stackhouse books (something that did not carry over into the tv series sadly–no offense Alexander Skarsgard–perhaps if you were to grow your hair out it would help…). Nothing screams strong alpha male quite like a viking.

So it was with great anticipation that I went to see the new Thor movie, as much to gaze at Chris Hemsworth as for what I anticipated to be a great hero flick.

You can imagine my surprise when, for the first time, I did not find Hemsworth quite as drool worthy. It was not due to the fact that he was often portrayed unwashed and disheveled–something that can just heighten that maleness in my book. Nope, when I assessed my reaction, I realized that I found him too ripped. Yep, he had crossed over into meathead territory.

gym ratNow don’t get me wrong, I love a good representation of the male physique as much as the next girl, and some nice muscle definition is downright hot, but, there is this threshold, this crossing into the ridiculous–trying too hard category that, at least for me, makes a man far less appealing. And sadly, my crush has crossed over into that land of the unreal, fake looking land of the gym rats.

This made me think about society and our expectations of unreality in terms of ourselves and our significant others. When did we stop wanting to be, and to be with, someone who looks like a real-life human being and instead to be with a photoshopped, airbrushed, image of perfection straight off the pages of a comic book?

As a psychology professor, I often have to teach things such as self image and eating disorders. A number of years ago, I had done quite a bit of research on female self-image and eating disorders, but in prepping for a new course last year, I decided I needed to update my research and what I found surprised me.

In our modern culture, boys and men are struggling with their body image almost as much as women. The media is driving men to the same sense of being not enough as women. And the expectations are most often unrealistic and unattainable.

No where do you see it quite so obviously as the online dating world. Being a newb in terms of this new and not-so-improved dating culture, it has been quite a learning curve for me.

dating_checklistAt first I just found it very odd that so many men led with their height and weight statistics.

Then I started to find it a bit creepy how many made a point of listing just how frequently they went to the gym and for how long…

And then it started to get just downright icky as they listed their point by point preferences for a female as if they were placing an online custom order with Amazon. And of course, this always included an athletic and fit or slender woman who also wants to live in the gym and only eat healthy.

But she’s also supposed to be intelligent, independent, and have her own established career…

Hmmm…most women who hit that “intelligent, independent and established” mark are in their late thirties to early forties, and no longer have the ripped 20 year old body that so many of these men seem to expect. I think these men should maybe get really comfortable with the companionship of their Maxim magazines because last I knew, women were real and far too busy to spend the hours a day in the gym that are required to look like the airbrushed and photoshopped images found in those magazines. And if they’re not, well, they are likely as shallow and empty-headed as the hours spent in a gym would imply–or they are more interested in a sugar daddy than a real and authentic relationship.

As a woman with a more curvalicious physique, despite the societal messages trying to eat away at my sense of self, I typically feel pretty good in my own skin. Though, I have to admit, the dating scene did shake my confidence for a bit, that is, until I started to realize that, the bravado and the unrealistic expectations were often just a mask for a deep seeded insecurity.

When-youre-comfortable-in-your-own-skin...youre-beautiful.-Confidence-is-the-best-makeup-you-could-ever-wear.Yeah sure, there are some meatheads who just want some arm candy, but, most people are craving a real and authentic relationship with a real and authentic human being.

When it really comes down to it, Chris Hemsworth’s unnatural physique is far less appealing than a real man who works hard and doesn’t have the luxury of hours per day spent in the gym.

The media feeds us unreality, and when we buy what it is selling, we become dissatisfied with what is real and beautiful.

It’s time we started recognizing that authenticity is far more attractive than an unattainable perfection only achieved at the end of a plastic surgeon’s knife.

Be healthy and be you. You are unique and you are beautiful.

 

How much meat are you leaving on the bones? It’s time to stop wasting our moments.

Picture it with me (my guess is your version looks awfully similar to this–just alter and delete a few things and presto! My day becomes your own!):

sleep-woman-tired-needs-coffee-half-asleep-dreamstime_m_79917322-2I wake up, stumble out of bed, head straight to the coffee pot and stumble around my kitchen until I finally get a cup of that black brew in my hand. I quickly suck down some of that black nectar and stumble over to my favorite chair where I sit comatose and blinking until the black goo starts to work its magic. Somehow, that process takes far longer than it should (and far longer than it feels like–I swear there is a kind of time warp we get stuck in in the morning–ten minutes becoming a half an hour, twenty minutes becoming 50) and so I have to rush to get ready and then race to work–a couple of minutes behind schedule, of course, pulling into the parking lot with a squeal of tires and a cloud of dust and gravel in my wake (okay, so not really, but that’s what it feels like).

I get to work and, despite the fact that I do like my job, I start counting the moments until I get to go home and veg. in front of Netflix watching whatever tv series currently offers my dose of escapism (currently the DC comics–who doesn’t love a good hero?). In the meantime, I fight to cram bits of learning into unwilling minds, and battle the mindset of this entitled generation which seems to think that because they suck air they deserve the right to pass my class. Finally, the anticipated moment arrives: the bell rings, and I haul my disillusioned and exhausted self out of there and I try to put the chaos and the stress of the day behind me. Ironic that, with the current state of driving, which often only increases my stress level due to the idiocy of the modern, cell phone distracted driver…so I arrive home feeling more stressed than when I left.

Finally I get home and steal those few minutes of escapism that I have spent the whole day longing for, those few minutes of alone time in the midst of the chaos of living, and I escape from my world until I begin to feel at least marginally human again, at which point I then snuggle with my littles and chat about their days.

Being that hunger seems to hold my growing children in its grip, the “I’m hungrys” cannot be long put off before I have to forfeit my brief reprieve and cook dinner. Well, then of course, I have to clean up from that dinner I just provided. Typically, as I am still finishing this odious task, my big little dude starts pestering for our one on one time: it’s time to take a walk with that biggun and to talk about the things on his mind (usually video games, or weird bits of knowledge, or girls these days–fun times!).

clockBy the time we get back, all I want to do is crawl into my bed and sleep, but I typically force myself to work another hour or two instead. Then of course, I need to reward myself, so I watch another episode or two of my latest binge watch, and thus fall asleep much too late, which means not enough sleep, and then, of course, someone hits repeat and, much like Bill Murray in Groundhog’s Day, I get up to do the same thing all over again the next day…

Life in the modern world.

Insert a different TV show, change the order, maybe insert takeout for making dinner, make a few other minor adjustments and poof! You have your routine instead of mine. The narrative itself changes little.

When I was young, the treadmill of life as I like to call it, seemed unthinkable. I would never get on that treadmill. Life was meant to be lived, experienced, appreciated…not be lived on repeat.

So how in the world did I end up on the treadmill along with just about everyone else?

Psychologists would likely jump to the fact that we love patterns and routines us human beings. We’re creatures of habit. It seems to be hardwired.

But I believe that’s only part of it.

busy-momI believe the truth is that we are just too darn busy to live any other way, and that we have lost the art of solitude which prevents us from knowing any better.

Solitude? What in the world does solitude have to do with the treadmill of life?

An awful lot actually.

As I’ve been getting ready to teach Romanticism, I’ve found myself re-reading Thoreau for the first time in many, many years, and I find myself rediscovering why I loved him so much the first time around.

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately… and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation…I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life.”

Once again I find those words resonating with me. I’ve spent a lot of time over the last couple of weeks pondering them and thinking about what they mean to me in this modern life.

My pondering led me on a journey of sorts. I started thinking about everything I should do: places I wanted to go, things I wanted to experience, goals I have yet to achieve.

But as I pondered these things, I found that just the thought of them made me tired. A part of me seemed to whimper at the thought of so much doing.

Yes, I want them, and yes, I plan to climb those mountains and dive deep into those seas, but something inside of me waived its arms in protest, dissenting at the thought of still more doing.

Adventures should be exciting and exhilarating. They should fill me with anticipation. And yet, though a part of me undeniably wants these things, a part of me feels the weight of burden at the mere thought of achieving them…something is rotten in the state of Denmark, and I was determined to figure out exactly what it was.

So I pondered some more, and the pondering lead me to that word “deliberately.”

What does it mean to live “deliberately?”

When you look at the meaning of the word, it seems pretty obvious. It is more than just filling our moments. It is a great deal more than simply doing.

find-arrowheads-in-the-woodsIt’s going to the woods as Thoreau put it. It’s pulling away, and pulling inside. It’s finding the solitude to reflect on the moments so that we can get all the meat from the bones, so that we can suck the marrow from the moments.

In our society, we forget that solitude and reflection are a necessary part of living to the fullest.

We’ve all felt it–that itchy feeling when we have an empty moment. That urge to grab our cell phone and hop onto social media or text a friend. The urge to fill the silence with music.

When I was a girl I was so good with silence. As an adult, I too often fill my silence with noise.

When I listen to the inner voice I realize that, for me, living deliberately is less about the doing and more about honoring the silence.

solitude (1)Living deliberately is much more about appreciating the small moments than it is filling up our lives with big ones. I want the big ones. I crave adventures–but I’m starving for solitude.

It’s the difference between want I want and what I need. But I’ve been too busy to even notice, or at least acknowledge, that I need it.

What about you? When you look inside, when you dig deep, is it really what you’re not doing that leaves you feeling empty and unfulfilled?

Or, if you’re honest, is it more about the fact that you’ve lost yourself, that you’ve become so busy and your life so filled with noise that you don’t take the time to suck the marrow from the bones of life? That you don’t take the time to realize what you already have, or the things that need to change, or the people you need to connect with or…well the list goes on and is different for each one of us.

Scale back. Unplug. Spend some time reconnecting with yourself.

It’s what I’m going to do. It’s what you should do. We owe it to ourselves.

Live deliberately–not more. That is what it is all about.

What kind of Divorcee are you (or would you be)? A libertine? A good enough? A crazy? And what does it say about you?

i_like_being_home_aloneComing home to an empty house…nothing but the stretch of silence. Hours without the sound of another voice…nothing but the whirring of the fan or the deep grumble of the dishwasher…

Does that scenario make you anxious and itchy, ready to call the first friend you can think of?

Or does it sound like a little piece of heaven?

Your answer to that question just might give some indication of what kind of divorcee you will be should you ever find yourself divorced.

Last year I taught a class called Lifespan Development for the first time. I had taken the course in grad school, but my focus was a bit different back then. I was still in my twenties, had only been married a handful of years, had already buried one child, and was pregnant with another that might also be sick. My focus was on the early end of lifespan development, not the what comes after.

DivorceThis time around, I had just turned forty and was also adjusting to the life of a freshly divorced/single person. My interest was piqued by that side of things. Particularly divorce.

Since I had to teach life and marriage after divorce as a part of the class, I decided I’d go ahead and do a little research. What I found was interesting.

Up to this point I had heard the newly divorced classified in two categories: the crazies (they went out a lot, partied seemingly endlessly, drank copious amounts, had casual sex, etc.) and the depressed (wept into their pillow every night and couldn’t get past what had happened). Being that I didn’t feel like I fit into either of those categories, my interest in the whole “what kind of divorcee I was” had quickly waned and I’d just gotten down to the business of moving on.

Until I found the the research of E. Mavis Hetherington. Her take on things seemed to be a bit more all inclusive.

Apparently, according to Ms. Hetherington’s research, we tend to fall into one of 6 pathways post divorce–not the two that everyone always talks about.

The first pathway is called the “enhancers” This group accounts for about 20 percent of divorced individuals and is mainly made up of females. These individuals become “more competent, well-adjusted, and self-fulfilled.” They tend to bounce back from stressful situations and can bring meaning from chaos.

Already I was liking the sound of this much better than my choice between crazy and pathetic.

dating_after_divorce_clotheslineThe next pathway is labeled the “good enoughs” and this group counts for a large number of the divorced. These individuals have average coping skills, show some strengths and weaknesses. They tend to initially make choices that enhance themselves or expand their careers, but in the end, they end up defaulting to what they had left–a marriage that was fairly similar to their first one. They settle.

I definitely did not want that to be me. No going backwards. No defaulting to the original settings. Nope. Not for me.

The next group is called the “seekers” and it accounts for 40% of men and 38% of women. These individuals hit the pavement running. They want to find a new mate as soon as possible and quickly find themselves in a relationship or even a new marriage. A few, settle down, and drift into one of the before-mentioned pathways and begin to become more stable and competent after the initial “craziness.”

Definitely NOT me. No need to fill the gap. Certainly not going to rush to fill it. Slow and steady wins the race after all!

The “libertines” (the name alone tells me this is not where I want to be) as the name suggests, just want to go out and have fun. They embrace their newfound freedom with a lot of partying and a lot of casual sex. Individuals in this group tend to settle down at some point and then join one of the other groups, eventually becoming more stable.

happy divorceThe next group is called the “competent loners” and makes up only 10% of the overall group of divorced individuals. They are “well-adjusted, self-sufficient, and socially skilled” having good careers, a good social life and lots of hobbies. Should sound like I’m repeating the “enhancers.” The big difference is that this group has little interest in sharing their lives with anyone else…hmmm. More on that in a bit.

The last group is the defeated. As the name suggests, these individuals really struggle with depression and recovery. Moving on is a major issue. They become stuck.

As I reflected on these categories, I found it very interesting. I have several friends who got divorced at about the same time I did. We each seemed to naturally pick our own pathway. Many of my friends very quickly found themselves in a new relationship. One is already engaged, one just ended a year long relationship, a few, have gone on a couple of dates, but aren’t in any hurry.

We all deal with it differently.

When I first read this list, I initially saw myself as an enhancer…but then I got down to the description of the competent loner. Which one am I?

The truth is, I still don’t know.

fresh-happy-woman-bed-wakes-up-morning-smiling-66521588I woke up this morning, alone in my bed, the silence of my house surrounding me, with a big grin on my face. I stretched luxuriously and thought about how much I like being alone. I LOVE being alone.

I love being accountable to no one. I love having whole days when it is entirely up to me what I want to do (though yes, often it ends up being work, cleaning and the mundane, it’s still my choice). No need to compromise. No need to share. What do I feel like doing? It has been so very long since I was able to focus on that question.

I love the freedom of choosing to leave the dishes in the sink, of ignoring the growing pile of laundry and not feeling like I’m letting someone down (not that Aaron would have cared mind you, but a good wife doesn’t do those things–but now I’m not a wife so…).

I thought that I would feel terribly lonely for my children on the days that they aren’t with me, but guiltily I have to admit, I instead find myself luxuriating in the alone time: endless piles of books, playing the piano, art, writing…all the things I was too busy to get to spend much time doing before, now I can immerse myself in them.

For a woman who had lost herself to motherhood for many years, I have had the opportunity, the gift, of being able to find myself again.

Do I want to give that up? Do I want to go back to a life of compromise and considering someone else’s desires as much (or let’s be honest, more than) my own? Do I want to give up long stretches of silences and hours of solitude?

SolitudeSometimes I say yes, and sometimes I say no.

For the right man, it would be worth what I would be giving up, but for the wrong man, it most certainly would not be.

And do I trust myself to see the difference?

For today, I embrace my solitude and trust that in time, that will be an easy question to answer.

What about you? Where do you fall on the divorce pathways? Where do you think you would fall, if you’re not divorced?

We can learn a whole lot about who we are, and shed some light on who we want to be, by considering where we fall and where we wish we would fall.

Butterfly, Caterpillar, or Dementor…which are you?

This week I found myself thanking God for my pain. I found myself thanking him for the suffering I have lived through. I found my heart overflowing with gratitude that he didn’t leave me in my comfort and mediocrity, thankful that he had pulled me into the deep and submerged me in a sea of suffering.

I’m not a masochist or anything. I hate pain just as much as the next person, but I have learned something about pain.metamorphosis-012

It’s our cocoon.

It is the key ingredient in our metamorphosis.

It is through pain that we emerge either in our splendor or…in a crippled and warped version of ourselves.

And the difference is all in our attitude.

One of my friends always throws a big halloween party, and I was excited to go this year as a bunch of my old gang, many who I hadn’t seen in over a year, were going to be there.

One of the things I hadn’t thought through was the fact that, the intervening year had been one of the hardest and most humiliating of my life. And of course, every single one of them was going to ask me how I was doing.

That was a loaded question.

How was I doing?

Anyone who knows me knows that I’m not one to just answer with the lame (and typically untrue) “fine.” One of my core beliefs is living with my life wide open. I don’t mean emotionally vomiting all over people (be honest, you just had someone’s face or name flash though your mind. We all have that one person). I mean being authentic and real.  Admitting to my struggles and open with my failures. No photoshopping my life to make it look better than it is. Just being me, in all my imperfection.

So if I was going to answer how I was doing and be real, I needed to do some real reflection. How was I really?

With a little bit of surprise, and a feeling of intense gratitude, I realized I was good, really good.

Wow.

Last year at this time, I was still feeling the ache (and sometimes sharp agonizing pains) of betrayal. I was still fighting the battle of humiliation. I was still battling (sometimes hourly) the fear of how I was going to make it as a single mother in an expensive city with zero child support.

Last year was a battle in faith. It was a battle in truth. And it was a battle of trust.

I put my stake in the ground, my hands up in surrender, and I threw myself in the arms of my savior.

Nothing made sense. Nothing was what I had planned. I didn’t know how tomorrow could possibly work.

But I knew my God. And I trusted that He had a plan.

god in the stormNot despite the devastation I was experiencing, but through it.

There were times I begged God to take the pain away. Times when I thought this life was just too hard. Times when the very idea of living made me feel weary.

But, beneath those times, and far deeper, was my knowledge, my unshakeable faith that, if I let him, the work He would do in me would be well worth the pain. All I needed to do was hold on. And hold to him with everything I was worth.

And here, only a year later, I realized that I had come full circle.

His promise to comfort was filled. His promise to heal was answered. His promise to provide was fulfilled.

And I found myself filled with gratitude for my suffering.

Because here I stand, not just a survivor, but an overcomer. Stronger than I ever imagined. Independent. More sure of who I am and whose I am than ever before. And it never would have happened if He hadn’t led me through the fire.

hidden strengthMany people have often told me how strong I am. But, I don’t think that my strength is exceptional. It’s just that suffering and heartache have burned away my weakness and revealed what was already there–I just didn’t know it.

I’m not stronger. I just let pain do it’s work.

See, growth is often not about growing, as much as it is about chiseling away the excess and revealing what is already there, buried beneath the surface.

The Bible calls it the refiner’s fire, burning away the dross.

And we have so very much dross.

We tend to see the fire as an attack from the enemy, or an injustice, or the unfairness of fate, but I believe that God is not just in the good parts of my life, but also in the storms, the disasters, and the darkest nights of our soul. They are a holy fire, a gift, yes a gift, and an answer to our prayers to be more like Him.

So many times, when I tell someone about Serena and what I lived through with her loss, they say they could never have done that, they never could have survived such a loss. But here’s the thing, I would have said the same thing if I hadn’t been forced to live it.

We simply don’t know what we’re capable of until we’re forced to it. Until we’re stretched and pulled and thrown into the fire we just don’t know what we’re capable of. Only then do we find out just how strong we really are.

If I have learned anything from this crazy, and heart-wrenching journey called life, it is this: Though our instinct is to run from pain, we should meet it with our arms open wide and embrace it, knowing that, if we let it, transformation is on the other side.

If we fight it, if we run, or if we hide, pain warps and it cripples, but when embraced, we are re-made.

The thing about pain is, it catches us all. There is no escaping it. It is part of the human experience.

No one gets to stay a caterpillar.

The decision we each have to make it who we want to be on the other side of it.

dementorThere are no short cuts when it comes to pain. There is no getting around it. Not tunneling under it. No hiding from it.

There is only getting through it.

When we hide from our pain, ignore it, or when we allow it to consume us, it turns us into something ugly. It is a poison that steals and maims.

And these people never emerge as who they were intended to be.

In truth, these people tend to become inflicters of pain. In their brokenness, they leave pain in their wake. They suck life from those around them, a real-life dementor.

 

But here’s the thing, it’s totally up to you.

You are stronger than you know. Are you willing to find out how strong?

You are capable of more than you ever believed. Will you dare to find out just what you can do?

And you are more amazing, more beautiful, than you can imagine. Are you willing to be transformed?

I won’t lie to you. It won’t be easy.

But it’s worth it. You can trust Him. He’s got you, and He’s got this.

 

From one sometimes screwup to another…(come on, admit it, you know that includes you!)

Sometimes I feel like crap, complete and utter crap.

Screwed upSometimes, I feel lonely, so lonely, that I wonder if, when my children grow up and leave me, I’ll be alone forever–the crazy cat lady, minus the cats.

Sometimes, I feel like the biggest failure in the history of failures, the epic underachiever, the cautionary tale of who not to become.

Sometimes, I feel so angry at my ex-husband for what he did to me and my family that I nearly simmer with repressed emotion: anger, rage, bitterness…the all too cliche’ stereotype of the wronged, “victim,” cheated on wife.

Sometimes, I feel not good enough in every single way–not pretty enough, not thin enough, not special enough, not anything enough…

Holy crap! Did she just admit all that?!

Yep, I sure did. Because that’s the truth. Sometimes, I feel all those things.

But most of the time, I don’t.

Most of the time, I don’t feel those things at all–but sometimes I do.

consumer-confidenceMost of the time I feel strong and confident. Most of the time, I am happy in my messed up little life. Most of the time I don’t feel lonely because I know I have family and friends who love and support me. Most of the time I know that I’m not a failure, but rather a survivor, and that failure isn’t a badge of defeat, but a chance to overcome. Most of the time, I can extend grace and forgiveness to me ex–despite the pain I sometimes still feel. And most of the time I know I’m enough–a work in progress–but enough. And in those moments, I feel beautiful, and strong, and confident.

But not always.

Sometimes, I just don’t.

And I don’t believe that makes me less. In fact, I think that makes me exactly normal, because I don’t think I’m alone.

I think even the strongest, and seemingly most confident, of us feel all those things at times–but we hide it. We pretend.

We think that strength is never feeling fear, never feeling doubt, and never, ever admitting failure.

pretendingSo we pretend. Because, we can’t admit that sometimes we’re terrified, and sometimes we’re so insecure that we can’t believe the whole world doesn’t notice, and that sometimes, we feel like an absolute failure at absolutely everything.

But, we all feel all of those things…sometimes.

So let’s help each other out, and stop pretending.

It is time to stop hiding, to stop window-dressing our lives, and to stop competing with something that has never been nor ever will be.

It is time to start getting real with one another.

Which means, it’s time to get vulnerable.

There is nothing I admire more than vulnerability.

I think nothing is more misunderstood than vulnerability. So often, vulnerability is portrayed as weakness. Or an excess of emotion. Or as a liability.

I view vulnerability as the height of courage and strength.

Vulnerability means admitting that I have wounds. It means bearing my battle scars. It means giving a window into my private struggles, my moments of shame, and my weaknesses.

That is strength, not weakness. That is not a liability.

It takes great fortitude, a strong sense of self, and true bravery to lower the mask to our greatest failures and wounds. It leaves our most personal moments and struggles open to attack, to ridicule, and to judgement. That doesn’t sound like weakness to me.

Vulnerability_Brene-Brown2I have very slowly been making my way through Brene’ Brown’s “Daring Greatly.” (Slowly, because it is filled with so much truth and food for thought.) One of her topics is shame and vulnerability. She talks about the “double bind” that we find ourselves in as women in modern society.

According to Brown and her extensive research, we, as women, feel that we are expected to be perfect, and to be it effortlessly. That we are supposed to be ourselves (well, unless you’re an introvert, then you’re supposed to pretend, because people prefer the outgoing, fun types). That we’re always supposed to be confident (no one likes insecurity), and that we’re supposed to walk this line between not being too emotional (because that is a lack of control), but not too detached either (what a cold-hearted bitch!). In sum, we’re supposed to be this perfectly balanced, confident (but not too confident because no-one likes the arrogant), version of ourselves (well, if, remember, we’re outgoing and fun) that is, of course, gorgeous, because how we look is really the defining standard of our worth…

And since none of us are all that all the time…

We believe we have to hide. Hide our struggles. Hide our weaknesses. Hide our insecurities. Hide our true selves.

And so we feel alone in these struggles. We feel ashamed of who we really know ourselves to be, believing that we should have it all together like her…or her…or her…

But no one has it all together. NO ONE.

And I, for one, have no interest in pretending.

Authenticity-Quote-2I do not have it all together (in case you haven’t already figured that out).

Sometimes I lose my temper with my children. Sometimes, I choose to binge watch netflix and let the dirty dishes pile up in my kitchen sink. Sometimes, even when my makeup is freshly applied, and I’m all decked out in trendy fashion, I feel woefully short of our modern standard of beauty. Sometimes, despite two degrees and one of them being psychology, I have absolutely no idea how to handle my son. Sometimes, all I want to do is give in to cynicism, become a hermit, and not find the bloody bright-side. Screw the bright-side!

But that doesn’t make me a bad mother, a bad woman, or a bad human being.

It just makes me normal. No better and no worse than anybody else.

So how about giving me a break?

And giving yourself one too while you’re at it.

Let’s stop trying to impress, trying to pretend, and get down to the business of admitting that none of us have it all together all of the time.

You think I suck? Guess what–I don’t care–and you shouldn’t either!

So, someone recently said to me, and I quote, “you’re not that pretty.”

Ouch.16601641_10154530828337054_5350964088706426815_o

Just what every girl who’s just recently turned forty and gone through a divorce because her husband left her for another woman needs to hear…

The question is, how did I react?

Did I get angry and hang up on the person?

Did I sit down and cry and feel as if I was the doggy doo-doo you need to scrape from the bottom of your shoe?

Did I end a relationship with this person?

No, no, and no.

What did I do?

I laughed.

Yes, I was offended. Yes, my feelings were hurt. But my sense of self is not dependent on what anyone else thinks of me. It didn’t rock my world. It didn’t send me to the depths of despair. I confronted the unkindness, and I moved on.

Sounds simple, but it’s really not something most of us can do without a little practice.

I’ve been thinking a lot about self esteem lately (for obvious reasons as mine took a pretty brutal hit over the last couple of years!!).

ImproveSelfEsteem_thumbThere are so many misconceptions about self esteem: that a healthy sense of self is arrogant, that we need to be successful to have a healthy sense of self, that a lack of failure equals a healthy self esteem, that if we are told we’re awesome enough, we’ll believe it.

All of these are false. Our sense of self isn’t reliant on what we do or don’t do, how we succeed or how many times we’ve failed. And it isn’t dependent on what other people think of us.

Having a solid sense of ego comes from knowing who we are, independent of what anyone else thinks of us. Knowing both our strengths and weaknesses, and with that knowing, still knowing that we bring a meaningful contribution to this thing we call life. It isn’t in our successes, but in how we react to our failures, that we can see how healthy our self esteem is.

Most of my life, I’ve had a pretty healthy sense of myself. I’ve had a healthy awareness of my strengths and weaknesses. I haven’t allowed the weaknesses to overshadow my strengths, but neither did I ignore them. I worked on them, and some became better, and some still need more work. But in the midst of this, I never lost sight of my value as a human being. I’ve weathered my failures with grace knowing that they were opportunities for growth. Not perfectly, but consistently, always looking for ways to do better the next time around.

iStock_000011408450XSmall-e1377826869734And then came my divorce. Talk about failure! And such a public failure! I felt like I had a scarlet D tattooed to my forehead. And the stigma that goes with having your husband cheat on you…I don’t like feeling a victim, but that’s what it made me. Publicly.

And then there is the stigma…people look at you as if it is your fault that your husband cheated on you. You can almost hear the thoughts in their heads: “What’s wrong with her that he cheated?” “Is she frigid?” “There has to be a reason…”

Despite knowing in my head that my husband’s cheating on me was all about him and nothing about me, my ego struggled to accept that knowledge. What was it about me that caused him to walk away from me? Why wasn’t I worth his faithfulness? Was there something wrong with me?

My self esteem became a battleground.

But I battled, and I didn’t give in. I didn’t accept the lies, but countered the lies with what I knew to be the truth. And I did that over and over again until I started believing it for real.

Self-Esteem-TipsAnd I stopped worrying about what other people thought. The truth is, people are going to think what they’re going to think regardless of what the truth is. For some people, thinking less of someone else makes them feel better about himself and his life. For others, it adds some interest to a rather boring life. For others, it might give them a feeling of vindication for some perceived slight along the way or maybe a feeling of fairness for someone who struggled with jealousy.

Whatever the reason, people are going to think what they think, and we can’t change it. We need to stop worrying so much about what “people” think and focus on what God thinks.

Am I good with God? Did I walk in obedience with Him? Did I submit to His will? Am I where He wants me to be?

If I can say yes to all of these–if you can–then guess what? It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. He’s the only one that matters.

Self esteem is not about affirmation. It’s not about ability. It’s about taking an active part in what goes on in your head. It’s about confronting the lies we tell ourselves with the truth, and it’s about worrying about who we are, not in the eyes of others, but when we stand eye to eye with our God.

It’s active and it is a process. But when you take the time, people can say all sorts of horrible things to you, and think whatever it is they’re going to think, and it doesn’t shake your knowledge of who you know you are.

CLBCRYmUEAACz_TYou are a child of God. You are beautifully and wonderfully made. And you are loved. Unconditionally.

If you are valuable in the eyes of our creator, who on this earth can tell you that you aren’t of value?

And that is truth.

Believe it.