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The Unromantic Side of Romance

/ Roxie / 1 Comment

Here’s the situation: Sometimes romance is not actually all that romantic!

So, it would appear as though I’ve been AWOL from writing again, this time for almost 2 years now.  Oopsie!  What can I say – I’ve been a busy lady, because, well, work, friends, hobbies, fun and oh yea, I got married.  Surprise!  Seeing how I was the expert at being single and now I’m (obviously) an expert at marriage, I’m here to give you my pearls and I can sum them up really quickly too.  Mainly, that you, as a woman, have been lied to!  Disney movies and rom-coms – they’re lies.  And we know this on some level too, yet we continue to let them define how we think we should feel when looking for a mate.  Ok sure, there are the people who legitimately might feel all those movie emotions (sparks, clouds parting, birds chirping, etc.), but what I’ve learned is, aside from those people (who are generally highly emotional and often make unwise life decisions anyway), there are the rest of us and for the rest of us, romance is a lot more practical.  Romance is actually, not all that romantic.  It probably would’ve been helpful for someone to tell me this before I was over 40, so let me try to do you the favour!

On the Spectrum

Like many, I have some fears.  One might call them irrational, but how do I know that my front door is actually locked if I don’t check it 7 times?  I don’t call that irrational – I call it safe!  Another fear of mine that developed somewhere in my late 20s/early 30s is that I would marry someone who I was not attracted to.  This one didn’t seem all that irrational to me though because I had heard it so many times from so many women. Women who were not attracted to their now-husbands when they first met.  They were “not their type”, yet somehow they were won over (or worn down?).  I was even there from the beginning of some of these relationships so I heard firsthand how much these women did not like the guys who were pursuing them!  “Not my type” became such a common sentiment in love stories, that anytime a new guy came into the fold who happened to be weird or unattractive, I feared they would be the one that the Lord had chose for me.  The guys wouldn’t even have to show interest in me and I was already mad at God for making me marry this creature in order to teach me a lesson in humility.  Ok yes, that might be irrational, but I just wanted to be proud of the imaginary spouse on my arm.

If I wasn’t afraid of marrying the missing link, then my other emotion, on the total opposite end of the spectrum, was that the Lord was going to bring me THE BEST man!  Like, a guy who other women would look at and also realize was THE BEST.  These women might be happily married, but they would recognize amazingness when they saw it and realize just why it took me so much longer to find someone than them – I had to wait for the best.  The best would obviously come in the packaging I desired too.  That was really the right thing for the Lord to do, since it was technically Him making me wait so long, ergo, I earned this glorious specimen.  Unfortunately, the Lord doesn’t seem to care what you think your merits are.

Forever Single.  Single Forever.

Twas the height of the pLandemic, when I felt that familiar disappointment again.  Getting to know someone who seemed like they might have potential, only to have those hopes dashed, thrusting me back to square one.  This time though, I was done.  After 20 some years in the dating game, I could not survive the pain of disappointment even one more time.  All those desires I had been convinced were given to me and put on my heart from the Lord, must not have been.  Did I trust the Lord?  Sure…  I trusted that he would keep me single forever!  So, after my final grieving was complete, I decided it was time to shift my focus and build a life for me since I would be the only one in it.  I would make memories with friends and meet new friends and I would be ok being the odd number at dinner parties or the pity invite that got included at Christmases and Easters when I got older.  At least I was getting invited, right?  After a little bit of time, I had finally, officially, become ok with being single forever.  From therein, I went into events and situations without the thoughts that had been running in the background for so long; “maybe this could be the day” or “this might be the event” or “what if this guy…”.  Instead, I went about my days unfazed and if there were guys who caught my eye, I let the glance go because they were merely in my eye line.

Bad Boys, Bad Boys, Whatcha Gonna Do?

It was during this time that a virtual stranger started following me on Instagram.  This guy was most definitely “not my type”, but thankfully I didn’t have to worry about my irrational fear anymore since I had clearly received the gift of singleness!  I dodged a bullet there too because though he was a stranger, I recognized him from when I would volunteer at church and it never seemed like he wanted to be there, he had tattoos all over and sort of fit the look of someone recovering from an addiction or who had a stint in prison.  Don’t be offended at me people – stereotypes exist for a reason!  Also, I’d dated a few too many of those guys and learned my lessons, so hard pass on the “bad boy”.  But crap, I volunteer as a front door host at church and what sort of image would I portray if I was the friendly greeter at church, but a total cow in real life?  Ugh, fine!…follow back.

We were silent follows for the first few weeks, then he replied to a story with a thumbs up.  A silent month later he replied to another story I had posted about a book I was going to read.  It was then that we briefly started to chat.  A week or 2 later when I saw him at church next I figured, I should probably talk to this guy because it’s weird to have conversations over Instagram, but then ignore each other in person, so that’s what I did; I said hi in real life one week.  The next week we chatted a bit.  The next week we chatted a bit longer.  At this point I had a few people in my life take notice and give me that coy little nudge to insinuate “oooooh, who’s the guy?!”.  I would roll my eyes because he was not my type!  We got along though, so I would continue to get to know him and selflessly do recon so that I could eventually set him up with one of my single girlfriends!  Maybe someone whose type he was.

The Bane of My Existence

About 6 months after he first followed me on Instagram and a few church parking lot chats later, he casually mentioned we should grab a coffee sometime.  He remembers this differently – he swears he’s too shy and would never have asked that, but whichever one of our memories is right about it (mine), we ended up going for that coffee and then we just sort of kept getting together weekly.  Over the next few months he never made a move so I figured he wasn’t interested, which again, was perfectly fine in my books since he wasn’t my type, so we just kept getting to know each other as friends.  As I got to know him I found out he was never an addict, never spent time in prison and would actually get rid of all of his tattoos if he could.  He had gone to bible college, so he was technically a pastor, was getting his masters in psychology and worked for one of our city’s non-profit organizations.  Not a bad boy after all.

Randomly I met his parents the second time we hung out and over the course of a few months I met some of his siblings and I had introduced him to my cousin and her husband, who he got along with swimmingly from the get go.  Overall, he was a pretty good catch, but he wasn’t what I had envisioned myself with!  He didn’t meet the 6’1″ minimum and he had this beard.  A long, grey beard with a giant moustache.  I hated that beard and would try to gauge his attachment to it with probing questions now and then.  Turns out – VERY attached.  As our friendship slowly progressed into dating and I had the stamp of approval from numerous people, quite possibly for the first time ever with one of my boyfriends, I still wasn’t sure about him, but only because I wasn’t sure that I could ever get over that beard!

Nothing But Green Lights

I spent about a year torn over the beard.  Yea ok, he was kind, smart, had a career and his life together.  We had similar interests, similar humour and he had a bunch of the “extras” I wanted to find, but weren’t deal breakers if I didn’t.  Sure, I couldn’t come up with a single red flag or reason not to date him and he really really liked me, but…the beard!  I hated that beard!  My logical mind knew I’d be an idiot to let something as stupid as facial hair ruin a perfectly great relationship, but my Disney movies and rom-coms had led me to believe I should be swooning and wouldn’t have to debate anything!

This is where romance and/or love takes the “this is real life and not a rom-com” turn.  As I said before, we women (and maybe some men) let these false movie ideals dictate how we think we should feel and unfortunately, Christians have the added disadvantage of over-spiritualizing things!  Am I doing the right thing?  Is this the Lord’s will?  I can tell you this; I prayed and prayed, but never felt any clear guidance from the Lord.  If anything, His guidance sounded like my own sarcastic self reminding me there were no actual reasons not to keep dating him! It also took the very practical and not romantic advice of a few friends to (eventually) register some sense in me.

Here’s what one of my friends told me a conversation with her pastor was like during her premarital counselling:

“Do you like him?”
– Yes
“Does he love Jesus?”
– Yes
“Do you enjoy spending time together?”
– Yes
“Ok, you can make a marriage work.”

Wait, what?  That seems a lot more simple than we make it out to be!

Parallel Lines

It really bothered me for a time that our story wasn’t very romantic.  I felt like I was doing a disservice to him to have to think so practically about it, but here’s what’s interesting.  When I’m with new people and they ask about how we met and I share some stuff, they often tell me “that’s like a real life rom-com!”.  

Those extras I wanted but weren’t deal breakers?  I wanted someone musical, who came from a big family.  I also wanted someone who loved Christmas as much as me and potentially had the same ministry heart as me, which was for the broken, addicted, homeless, etc.  Well, he sings and plays guitar, has been in many bands over the years and still records music.  (He’s actually a Spotify verified artist.  Look at me married to a famous rock star!) He’s also the oldest of 7, might love Christmas more than me and has been in a career of helping the broken, addicted, homeless for about half of his life.

The more we got to know each other, the more we discovered just how close we were to each other, without ever meeting.  Parallel lines.

The first time I showed him photos of me as a 19 year old party girl, he recognized 2 of the guys in my pictures.  They were his best friends at that time in his life.  

We used to hang out at the same bars and in fact, he used to play in a band at one of the bars I would frequent in my 20s.  

We lived in the same townhouse complex, only him when he was around 5 and me when I was 22.

I volunteered at a recovery centre every Saturday for 6 years and he worked at that centre for 4 years; 1 of those years overlapped yet we never met since he was weekdays and I was weekends.  I even remember a friend of mine who worked in the same industry asking me if I knew of him and she showed me a photo, but I didn’t know him and that was that.

We are only 10 months apart in age and grew up in neighbourhoods only minutes from each other, so we know some of the same people from junior high/high school or church.  In fact, I think he’s technically still dating a girl I knew from junior high because he never officially broke up with her.  Someone might want to let her know it’s over between them.  

My mom used to work at a bookstore that he would go to all the time and we found out a year ago that we went to the same daycare, at the same time!  All of these things, yet we never met.

And remember me saying that I wanted THE BEST and for people to recognize THE BEST?  Well, I’ve had lots of people tell me what a great guy he is and that I “done good”.  Quite frankly, he is the best, for me.  I can’t imagine anyone else being able to deal with my crazy!

Here Come the Pearls

So now that I’m this marriage expert, what can I tell the single ladies who’ve been longing to find someone forever?  Well, I’m not going to tell you it’ll happen when you least expect it, because though I’d hoped, I never expected so how come it didn’t happen sooner?  That adage is a load of BS.  And I won’t tell you to stay hopeful either, because I know sometimes you need to have zero hope for self preservation.  I’m not even going to tell you to lower your standards, but I will tell you to be realistic about them.  If you can’t watch Hallmark movies or rom-coms without daydreaming – turn them off.  You can’t have that kind of influence messing with your head.  

Another piece of advice is to build your life for YOU.  You are the only one who’s living it, so make sure you enjoy it!  Anything added to it is just a bonus!  And lastly…no matter how hard or how long it takes – wait on God’s timing.  I absolutely loathed hearing this before, but look how he orchestrated my story and I haven’t even touched on how we were engaged and married within 3 months with every detail coming together without any snags for the most beautiful wedding.  (A lot of which I believe has to do with God honouring us for honouring Him with our lives, but that’s a blog for another time…)

As I wrap this up, let me just say this to anyone who has also struggled with some unrealistic notion of love. Even if your story doesn’t contain fireworks, it doesn’t mean it’s the wrong story!

P.S. the beard is still going strong and I still don’t love it, but I hate it a little bit less.

The Simple Life

/ Roxie / 1 Comment

Here’s the situation:  We have too much in 2023.  Too much stimulation, too much information and too much access to each other’s lives.  I really don’t think the human spirit was meant to take in as much as we do and I think it’s stealing the joy of simplicity.

If you’re close to my age, you might remember a little show called The Simple Life that aired in 2003, where hotel heiress and socialite Paris Hilton and her friend Nicole Ritchie, daughter of Lionel Ritchie, left the comfort of their lives and their wealth in Beverly Hills to move in with a family in small town Arkansas and live like the “average American” for a month.  The simple life.  Naturally these 2 were not used to getting their hands dirty and comedic antics ensued.  I don’t remember many details about this show anymore, and when I googled to find out what year it aired, I was quite surprised to find out there were actually 5 seasons of it, but I do remember thinking that fame and fortune were so much more enviable than any kind of “simple life”!

20 years later I’m pretty sure that sentiment continues to ring true for many.  Even if it’s not outwardly admitted, it’s evidenced by how many people still pursue quick fame and quick fortune by going on reality TV shows, trying to go viral on social media or trying to become “influencers” of some kind.  Fame and fortune (money and popularity) sound way more glamourous than being unknown and living comfortably within a budget. They automatically give you status so people look up to you and a platform so people listen to you.

Andy’s from the generation that thinks they should all be famous.  What happened to the generation that knew you shut up, did your work and died quietly from a heart attack?

– Stanley Hudson, The Office, S9E21 (Livin’ the Dream)

I consider myself fairly rooted in reality, but even I was enamored with the idea of ‘influence’ and up until about 2021 had these googly-eyes for “impacting the world”.  What would I bring to the table?  Who knows!  But a simple life?  Being an ‘average American’?  Pssh, boring!  Give me status!  Give me a platform!  I had ideas and dreams for a big life!  So what happened?  Well, 2020 happened with its fear mongering and lockdowns.  Even worse, 2021 with it’s divisive vaccines.  Seeing how friends and families turned on each other over opinions, and how complete strangers suddenly thought they were entitled to know something about you that was really a private and personal choice, made me realize how little I wanted anyone in my business and if I had status or a platform, I wouldn’t have the luxury of privacy!

It was also during that time that I became disenchanted with the people that we have given a platform and status to, like celebrities, media or the voices that have somehow been selected to be elevated.  What have these people really done to deserve it and do they even have anything good to say?  Why do we listen to them just because they’re “famous”?  It doesn’t make them better or even smarter, in the same way that being intelligent doesn’t mean that you’ll make good life decisions!  So between all of these things AND watching the world slip deeper and deeper into lunacy since, I can think of few things now that are more desirable than simplicity!  Everything else has gotten way too heavy, way too shallow, way too fake or downright corrupt.  Give me the simple life.

The Good ‘Ol Days

Am I officially this age now?  The age when you look back and say things like “everything was so much simpler then”, or what I’ve caught myself saying lately which is, “the 90’s were so great”.  Ok reality, the 90’s were not that great, but comparatively, can we please go back?!  I guess maybe my feelings are blissfully nostalgic because I was a teenager then with little responsibility, but looking back everything really does seem so much simpler.  Convenient, no, but simple?  Yes!

I’ve had a few good laughs recently watching Instagram reels from @thenostalgiclatino where the screen text says something like “it’s the 2000s and you just downloaded the hot new Destinee’s Children (ToDaLeft.exe.mp3)”, while a janky version of the song plays in the background and his caption is either “thanks Napster” or “Limewire days”.  It cracks me up because that’s exactly how it was!  You had to scroll through a long list of the song you wanted looking for the best star rating and compare download speeds, and then you didn’t know if you were getting the actual song or even a quality version of it until the downloaded completed, which could take anywhere from a few minutes to an hour!  My friends and I would spend hours doing this too so that we could burn the perfect mix CD!  This seems so prehistoric now considering in an hour we could replace our entire CD library with the tap of a screen, but back then we were ecstatic to even be able to get one individual song and for free!

What about finding all of this music in the days before Shazam?  I can’t tell you how many times I’d hear a catchy song in a store and will myself to try and remember the tune!  Or you’d make out a few of the lyrics and again, hope that your brain retained enough of them so you could search for the song when you finally got to a computer, because we didn’t carry around mini computers in our purses or pockets!  This was in the days before Google had all of the answers too, because I specifically remember going on music forums to ask if anyone knew what songs lyrics belonged to!  “Does anyone know a song that goes like: o-o-o-o-on, do-ow-ow-ow-own, to-o-o-o-o, the…(something something)…?”.  Guess what?  Somebody did!  The answer: The Creeps by Fedde Le Grand.  True story!

It’s all so laughable, but I swear the most difficult things used to be whether there’d be enough copies of the new movie you wanted to rent being at Blockbuster, deciding how early you wanted to line up outside of a Ticketmaster window to try and get the best seats or being rejected by someone one time in real life, instead of multiple times on multiple platforms.

I miss the days when you had one phone number and one answering machine and that one answering machine had one cassette tape and that one cassette tape either had a message from a guy or it didn’t.  And now you just have to go around checking all these different portals just to get rejected by seven different technologies.  It’s exhausting.

– Drew Barrymore, He’s Just Not That Into You (2009)

Today it feels like you can’t look anywhere and find just plain simple.  It’s all gotten so complicated.  Women are men and men are women – and apparently men make the best kind of women according to all the women’s awards they’re winning!  Words are violence, everything is racist and if you merely even question anything, you’re labeled some kind of phobic.  Feelings are fact, facts are considered hate speech and now the truth is apparently subjective.  Oh and if you disagree with anything, we’ll just change definitions or rewrite history so that you can’t argue with it, because look, it’s recorded in a book now, so it must be true!  Trust the science, right?

Everything’s been politicized, every form of ad or entertainment has to have some kind of message or agenda sprinkled in (or shoved down our throats) because apparently we’re not smart enough to think for ourselves or make decisions for ourselves anymore.  And the things we keep implementing to try and improve other things (eg. DEI or climate policies) are actually making everything worse!  So many of the issues we face today are manufactured crises!  So do you agree with me?  Can we please go back?

Keeping Up With the Joneses Ingalls

My coworker and I often chat about the state of the world, get ourselves all worked up and then say 3 little words, which are mutually understood: OFF THE GRID!  This is our way of saying the world is crazy and we want no part of it!  I’m ready to go live in the wilderness somewhere without anyone telling me how I should feel, what I’m allowed to say and what I can and can not do.  It seems I’m not the only one who wants no part of this current trajectory either.  She recently told me about a poll the local radio station was doing, asking people whether they’d rather go into the future or back to the past and I blurted out “the past!”, just as she was telling me the results of the poll, which were exactly that.  I followed it up by saying “I’d rather go back to homesteading at this point”.

Ok, so maybe homesteading and living in the wilderness is a stretch for me, but reversing just a little bit would be nice.  Yes, I know people loooove their technology and conveniences, but in my experience, the ‘ease’ of technology and convenience has become more frustrating and inconvenient than not.  (This is coming from a girl who still has a VCR and DVD player hooked up, enjoys basic cable TV, up until a few months ago still burned CDs for her car and is currently typing on an old laptop given to me for free that sometimes the ‘Q’ and ‘?’ don’t work on, so take from it what you will!)

Inconvenient Convenience

Thank the Lord for an employer that provides group benefits, but just the other day I went to submit an insurance claim online, which I’ve done multiple times before, but haven’t done for a couple years and this time, they wouldn’t let me login.  They said I needed to set up an ID, which was separate from any of the login information I was able to use in the past.  Ugh, ok fine.  Typed in a user name and a password and the password again to confirm it, only to be given an error message.  My password was long enough, but it didn’t contain a lowercase letter.  *eye roll*  Try again, with a lowercase letter.  Oh, now it needs a special character!  Alright, throw an exclamation point at the end like we all do – great, they’ve sent me an email with a link to activate my ID, which is only good for 15 minutes.  Log into email, activate account.  Now they need me to add my phone number for double security.  Now they’ve texted me a 6 digit number to confirm.  Did that.  “You’re almost done”, now I have to enter my group benefits password to link myself.  Then to submit my claim I had to search for my healthcare provider by postal code and name and their license number.  Oh. my. gosh.  20 minutes later!!  You know what I used to do?  Write my name on a form, photocopy my receipt and put it in the mail.  30 seconds – done.

What about all the other things that are automated now for our “convenience”?  Many stores have more self-checkout lanes than real ones and if I’m going to do all of the work myself, my prices should be lower since you don’t have to pay for an employee to do this position.  Except that you do, because there’s always a missing code or sale price that didn’t ring up so an employee has to stand by and come help anyway!  We keep taking positions from humans and giving them to robots and then we 1) fear that AI is going to take over the world (yet we keep advancing it) and 2) we have politicians promising to lower the unemployment rate by creating more jobs.  Ok sure, a lot of jobs have been created in the last few years, spawned from our laziness and these jobs are as drivers.

The last time I was with friends who thought it would save us time ordering McDonald’s through Skip the Dishes instead of going down the street to the drive-thru, we ended up waiting 1.5 hours for our order to arrive.  ONE AND A HALF HOURS FOR MCDONALD’S!  Or recently at work, someone thought it would be more convenient to place an order online for some supplies, which is fine, but why so much unnecessary communication when you do that?

2 separate emails confirming they received the order and then telling you it’s out for delivery.  3 separate text messages from the delivery service telling you your package is out for delivery, your driver will drop the item off rather than hand it to you and that your package will arrive shortly.  1 phone call from the driver confirming he’s at the right building and then 2 follow-up text messages telling you your package was left in a safe location and to state it was delivered.  That’s EIGHT times we were contacted, 6 of which were within a 20 minute span, all to get some paper towel and WD-40.  Maybe I’m just an old curmudgeon now, but do you know what would have been just as fast and less annoying?  Driving 10 minutes down the street and popping into the store for 5 minutes.  Although now when you make an in-store purchase, they all innocently ask you for your email address and then start spamming you with their promotions.

I know you probably think I’m overreacting or being a “boomer”, but it’s just too many things and too much contact.  Nobody outside of my friends and family need this much access (or surveillance) into my life!

Click Here to Unsubscribe

Remember when we all got cell phones but they were for emergency use only?  Or a time before social media when you actually had to speak to people to get updates about their lives?  For being so disconnected, we were way more connected!  People had less of anything that we have today, yet they were happier and healthier – that’s probably why!  People knew how to take a joke and brush things off and for everything in the past that is supposedly “so offensive” today, nobody was that offended.  We didn’t hear news 24/7 or on a global scale.  You lived in your own little bubble, building your own little life and you didn’t tell other people how to live theirs because that was none of your business!  People used to exercise critical thought and have a moral compass and convictions and people actually stuck to those convictions instead of being swayed by the fear of being canceled.

Well, I unsubscribe from 2023.  OFF THE GRID!  I don’t want anymore of this nonsense that is stealing the joy out of everything, past and present, and rewriting a history that, if anything, we should keep teaching so we can learn from it, rather than erasing so that we’re doomed to repeat it.  I don’t want virtue-veiled hate or intolerant-tolerance.  Just be the bad guy and own being hateful and intolerant, instead of trying to save face by appearing so virtuous and above reproach – we can see through it anyway!  If 2023 is what progress looks like, I will be a happy homesteader, barefoot (and not pregnant) in the kitchen because I want no part of this dystopian nightmare that “progress” is creating.

This Little Life of Mine

I used to look at people who were content with their small lives and think they were somehow sad or pathetic, had no dreams or were just unmotivated, but they might be onto something!  They don’t need a platform or status because they’re solid and secure and their “simple” lives are just that – simple.  Quiet, smooth, uncomplicated, even keel, peaceful.  Well, I’m craving that kind of simple!  I want to see the return of cheesy and wholesome and hobbies!  (Who has a hobby anymore that’s not just scrolling through social media?!)  I just want my friends, my family, my church and the basics please; food, clothing and shelter.  The simple life.  Who’s with me?

Still Alive, Still Snarky

/ Roxie / 3 Comments

Here’s the situation: I may have disappeared, but I’m still here!

282 days.  That’s how long it’s been since I’ve published anything, and it’s not for lack of interest or lack of trying!  It’s because I honestly can’t wrap my mind around a subject long enough to write about it before I’m hit with the next global catastrophe!

I don’t know how you feel, but it seems to me that since Covid started 2 years ago, things are moving and changing at rapid fire, and not small things either – BIG things!  We went from collectively watching Tiger King in this Whoville-esque “we’re all in this together” state, to being fiercely divided over vaccines, which almost seems all but forgotten at this point.  Almost.  Perhaps it feels like things change so quickly now because things legitimately did change so quickly, every. single. day. during the pLandemic and we grew accustomed to it and accustomed to living and functioning from a heightened state of emotion.  Whether you were fighting for your bodily autonomy and freedoms or whether you wanted people to just “shut up and comply”, we’ve all been fighting for something and it gets exhausting!  Then, just when it seemed things had the potential to actually go back to normal because mandates started being dropped and restrictions lifted, everything else decided to go to hell in a handbasket.

Ya’ll Need Jesus

Ukraine, Russia, China’s insane “zero Covid” measures.  “Misinformation” and “disinformation” boards and bills to control internet content in order to ‘protect democracy’ (which do the very opposite).  Inflation, gas prices, food shortages, baby formula shortages, thousands of cows dropping dead supposedly from a heat wave and food processing plants randomly burning all over America.  Critical Race Theory, Disney’s “not-so-secret gay agenda”, the gender identity crisis, drag shows for kids, grooming and basically erasing women and what they are from existence.  Elon Musk and Twitter, Roe v. Wade, Monkeypox, Bill Gates, Klaus Schwab, the World Economic Forum, The Great Reset, the climate “crisis” …  These are just a few of the things making headlines from the last couple months!  It’s absolute insanity and no wonder there’s a friggin’ mental health crisis in North America!

So yea…I haven’t written in 282 days, because…MY BRAIN HURTS!  But believe me, I have a lot to say!  Ohhhhh I’ve got opinions for dayzz, most of which would probably get me canceled if I were anyone important!  Thankfully I’m not so hopefully one day soon I can compute how far humanity has fallen in such a short period of time and write about that, but for now, I’ll just keep enjoying my simple little life before I’m martyred for going against the narrative!

Stop the Insanity

/ Roxie / Leave a comment

Here’s the situation: It’s not ok.  It’s not ok to treat people different because of their choices and it’s not ok to force people to do something that they don’t want to do.  If you took this concept and applied it to any other scenario, we would be outraged and it would be considered a crime.

Before I get started, know that I’m shortening the key words in this (and their many forms and tenses), because I don’t need any sort of bot flagging my post and attaching some dumb PSA link to it, even though I’m sure this site is free of that.  You’re smart, I’m sure you can solve these abbreviated mysteries.  Cvd = duh.  V = this should be obvious.  Un-V = if you can’t figure this out, we have other problems.

Well That’s Just Great

Remember 19 months ago when we all heard about this ooky spooky virus and the very thought of it was crazy?  Then we thought social distancing and masks and lockdowns were crazy?  And then how crazy it was that our government essentially cancelled Christmas.  Do you remember the madness?!  Well, that madness almost seems sane to me now because the world has done gone and lost it’s mind!

Prior to that, if you would’ve asked me to list any reasons I could think of as to why my life might not turn out the way I want, I might’ve answered that it would be because the things I’d like to do require me to have a platform and a following but I’m a nobody.  I might’ve answered that it would be because I’ve done and accomplished all I want to/can do as a single person and the rest is dependent on finding a partner to do life with.  It would never have been because some stupid freaking virus would appear out of nowhere, disrupt the ENTIRE planet and potentially screw up all of my future hopes/plans/dreams.

The Blame Game

If I were God (and you should be thankful I’m not), I would be sending the flood right about now.  Just wipe this whole hot mess of humanity out because in the words of a basic white girl – I literally can’t even!  But like actually, I can’t.  The hate in the world is palpable!  There have been so many wrong things that have happened in North America this last year and now to top it off, the government is literally pitting the V and the un-V against each other and it is not ok!  None of anything that is going on right now is ok!  I get that everyone is over this crap, mentally and physically exhausted and looking for something, and now someone to blame, as to why a year and a half later things are worse, but can I just put this out there?  Blaming doesn’t help anything.  Blaming does not get you the results you want.  Blaming only causes more division and more hate.  Do you know who plays the blame game?  CHILDREN!  Tiny little humans whose brains haven’t fully developed.  This is the level of maturity we exhibit when we blame.

To V or Not to V

Personally, I legitimately DO. NOT. CARE. what you’ve decided to do.  If you got V – great, if you didn’t – great.  YOUR BODY, YOUR CHOICE!  But therein lies the frustration and the stress of many right now.  Canadians (and Americans) are losing their freedom of this choice and even more worrisome is many cannot see past the here-and-now to see the bigger picture of how losing this freedom could impact the future in a very negative way!

“Do your part.”  “It’s not a big deal.”  “Just get it so we can get over this pandemic.”  For many people, it’s not that simple!  The people who made the decision to get V had their reasons, just as the people who made the decision not to get V had their reasons.  The reasons might not seem valid to you, but they are valid to each person individually and news flash, it’s not your place to be the judge of someone else’s reasons!

I have both V and un-V people in my life and here’s what I know.  Not everyone who went and got the shot is a mindless sheep and not everyone who hasn’t got the shot is actually anti-V or a selfish conspiracy theorist.  A few people I know who got V were required to do so in order to see family members that live in care facilities, but I’d say the majority had the mindset of ‘we just want to get back to normal and if this is what it takes to do that or travel again, we’re going to do it’.  They can’t be faulted for that; that’s literally what they were guaranteed by the government!  Just as they can’t be faulted for their choice, the people who chose not to get V can’t be faulted for theirs.

I know people with auto-immune disorders who cannot get V because it poses a higher risk to them, yet they don’t fall under the exemption categories.  I know women who are hesitant of getting V because the long term effects on fertility/infertility are unknown and won’t be known for many more years.  I know people, who know people, who have died after getting the V, had adverse side effects and even been paralyzed.  As such, these people would rather take the risk of getting Cvd than the risk of getting V and you know what?  That’s their choice!  Where there is risk, there should be choice!

Stop It!

I could go on and on (and off!) about all of this.  Do I lean more towards one side than the other when it comes to my personal opinion?  Of course, but that doesn’t matter right now, what matters is, I think in all of the chaos that has only been amplified this last month, people have forgotten about the humanity in others. Reminder: there is still a person behind the decision to be V or un-V.  There is a stranger with a story that you don’t know and it’s really none of your business to know.  There is a coworker or a friend or a family member that, even as recently as a couple weeks ago, you could still enjoy the company of, while respectfully having a different opinion than.  Unfortunately, as soon as we were told that one side is to blame, humanity went out the window and now we just look at people and see them as the reason we’re living this unending cycle of insanity!

Let’s think for a moment about what happens when all of this ends?  Not Cvd, because I’m pretty sure that’s here to stay, but what happens when we’ve figured out how to continue living with this thing in the background and things have calmed down?  Are your relationships going to survive?  Will you be able to come back from the opinions you’ve formed or the things you’ve said?  What if it turns out that you were wrong?  What if it turns out that they were wrong?  Is this stupid virus worth losing relationships over?  Sorry, not in my world.

One Last Thing

Where are my Christians at?  No seriously, where are the faith-filled, miracle-believing, pray-without-ceasing Christians?!  I see and hear and read too many things that get posted and it seems like many Christians have forgotten about God (and the devil) in all of this.  Yes, science and medicine have done wonders for us in the past, but I’ve seen faith in a V elevated higher than faith in God.  And let’s not forget that we’ve been commanded not to fear, so why are you allowing fear to drive your life?  Dare I make a suggestion?  Turn off the news.  Close your newspaper.  Stay away from social media.  Why not spend that time in prayer instead?  Pray radical prayers that Cvd disappears!  And when you’re done praying, pray some more.  And then, go enjoy time with your family and friends.  Yes, even the ones who made a different choice than you!  Get to know people again and have conversations that don’t involve anything related to this nonsense!  You’ll quickly realize that people are more than their V status.

Wear the Boots | Put Down Roots

/ Roxie / 1 Comment

Here’s the situation: They say good things come to those who wait, which I do believe, but in some instances, I think you need to quit waiting and just go out and get the good things for yourself!

It was the early 2000’s and my roommate and I were on one of our frequent Saturday shopping trips when I found and purchased my new favorite outfit; a cream cowl neck sweater, bootcut Silver brand jeans that had a rustic tan wash and a beautiful pair of light tan suede wedge boots, which tied the whole look together.  For as much as I loved that outfit, I rarely wore it!  Because it was my favorite, I wanted it to stay in mint condition as long as possible, especially those boots.  Now, for anyone who doesn’t live where I live, you should know, there is a lot of slush/snow for a lot of months of the year and light tan or suede footwear is a risky investment if you’re wanting them to stay like new!

After having only worn the outfit on a few occasions over the course of a few years, I thought to myself – I PAID for this outfit, I should really just get my use out of it, even if it does get worn out!  The very next time I had somewhere to go, I pulled it out and put it on, but when I looked in the mirror, all I could do was laugh!  You see, while that outfit sat in my closet waiting for the right occasion or the perfect conditions, years went by and styles completely changed from bootcut to skinny jeans and from wedges to stilettos and my once-favorite outfit, though still as pristine as desired, was no longer trendy and I would never leave the house in it now!  My intentions had been good, but in the end, it was a total waste!

I know that story is only about an outfit and it might be a bit of a stretch to compare the two, but I can’t help but relate that to how many of us live.  We have this thing metaphorically hanging in our closet the whole time – our lives – and we never get our full use out of it because we’re waiting for the right occasion or the perfect conditions, meanwhile the years go by!  We have good intentions, but our good intentions might be wasting our time or our opportunities, or they might just be a really good (ahem, lame) excuse for our inaction!

What If I Met Someone?

I had a lot more Rascal Flatts romanticism in me when I was younger.  You know, “God blessed the broken road that led me straight to you”.  Yea, that.  Every failed relationship was just one step closer to the right one, right?!  At least that’s what ballads and rom-coms will have you believe and friends will say to try and encourage you.  I guess nobody anticipated how many steps I might have to take!  As emotional as every break up was, and as hopeless as I became the more time that went by, somewhere deep down I hung on to ‘the next one might be the right one’ for far too long and because of that, there were things I delayed or opted not to do over the years, because, well, what if I met someone and that someone was the right someone?!

I was supposed to get married in 2007.  I had the church, the reception hall and the photographer all booked.  The invites were drafted (but not ordered) and my wedding dress was purchased.  Praise the good Lord above I came to my senses before the wedding day, but because it only 5 months before and not 6 months, I lost most of my deposits and I still own that wedding dress.  It was never altered, the tags were never removed and I can’t remember now, but I assume I wasn’t able to return it at the time or I’m sure I would’ve.  Since I was stuck with a dress I spent $1,000 on, I decided to keep it rather than try to sell it and potentially lose money on it right away!  I mean, I obviously liked it, it was paid for, but most importantly – what if I met someone?  I would already have my dress!  I gave myself 5 years to hang onto it.  Surely 5 years was p-l-e-n-t-y of time to meet someone new!

As you can guess, 5 years came and went and when I tried to sell it (for substantially less than I paid), similar to my favorite outfit, styles had changed and nobody was interested in an outdated dress, even as affordable as it was!  You’d think there’d be at least 1 bride on a budget out there!!  Now here we are, 14 years later and that dress is still in my possession and the only thing it’s been used for is a funny little photo shoot my friend and I did for my 10 year non-inversary.

IMG_4123 (2)

My intentions were good.  I was trying to save myself money in the long run by not selling my dress, but in the long run, my money went to waste anyway!  What about the other things I haven’t done because I was prioritizing good intentions and what if‘s?

I’ve been using the same queen-size Ikea bedframe from when I moved out for the first time in 2001.  I bought it because it was the cheapest one, but in 20 years I’ve had plenty of moments where I wanted to update it to something a little more grown up, but I continued to hold off.  Why?  Because, what if I met someone?  I’ve always said that when I got married I wanted a king-size bed, so it wouldn’t make sense for me to update my queen when I could potentially meet someone tomorrow and just have to replace it with a king anyway, and there’s no point in me already getting a king for just myself.

When I first bought my place, I was using a bookshelf and a dining table and chairs that I got for free because I couldn’t afford anything else.  As my finances increased however and I could finally purchase something I liked, rather than something I had to use, I held off, because again, what if I met someone?  Maybe they’d already own nicer stuff than me?  Maybe they wouldn’t like my taste?  Maybe they’d want to pick out new items together?  It would be a waste to bother upgrading these things, so I’ll just wait and see what happens…

Excuses Excuses

I’m fully aware that all of those things are inane and don’t really seem like that big of a deal, but I also know it’s not just me doing this!  I’ve heard others use this exact same reasoning (or reasons they use to sound more spiritual), only on a larger, more life-affecting scale!  I’ve known people who were hesitant to put down roots in a city because ‘what if they met someone?’ and that someone doesn’t live in the same city or lives there and wants to relocate, or ‘what if God calls them elsewhere?’.  I’ve known others who had the money to buy their own place, but wouldn’t because ‘what if they met someone?’ and that someone already owns a place.

When I moved into my place, I remember waffling about signing a 2 year contract for cable/internet (but I did).  “Oh 2 years, that’s such a long time.  Maybe I can go without so I’m not locked into anything.  Who knows what’s going to happen in 2 years time?”  Ummm yea, I do now – NOTHING!  2 years came and went, and then I signed another year long contract and when that expired, I renewed for another 2 years and just last month I locked in for another 2 years.  If I had actually not gotten cable/internet because I didn’t know what was going to happen, the exact same 2 years, 3 years, 5 years, would’ve passed anyway.  Years that I could’ve been enjoying my time at home with TV shows I like or streaming Netflix or having wifi on my phone.

And that my friends, is what we do.  We’re martyr’s to our maybe’s and because we put our lives on hold for uncertainties, we miss out on the tangible here and now.

Get out of your head and into your life.

– Jenny Acuff

Just Do It

Last winter I finally said ‘screw it’ and started to shop for a new bookshelf and dining table and chairs.  It took a few months, but one by one I upgraded to pieces I love and already over 6 months have gone by that I’ve had and enjoyed my new items.  6 months that would’ve gone by anyway, only with me continuing to hate my furniture, and for what purpose?  I live in this space TODAY, so I should create a space I enjoy where I’m at!  And this is what my life looks like TODAY, I should live it and enjoy it where I’m at!

Your life and mine, sure, they could change tomorrow!…but they could also not.  Do you want to keep living for what-if‘s and prioritizing good intentions to possibly look back and think ‘what a waste’ or do you want to pull your life out of the closet and get your use out of it now?  Either way the same time is going to go by!  So you may as well wear the boots!  If they get ruined, who cares – they’ll be out of style soon anyway!  And put down roots!  If God happens to call you elsewhere, then go elsewhere!  Now you have double the friends and a place to stay when you go back to visit!  If you can, buy your own place and if you meet someone who already owns, guess what?  You can sell!  Or they can sell!  Or you can live in one and rent out the other!  Cross those bridges when you get to them.  Of course, yes, please think about the future and even plan for it in a responsible way (spend wisely, save money, date smart), but don’t keep putting your life on hold for things that aren’t a sure thing.  Live today, TODAY!

So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring it’s own worries.  Today’s trouble is enough for today.

– Matthew 6:34 (NLT)

Are We There Yet?

/ Roxie / 3 Comments

Here’s the situation: Every job develops it’s own, unique lingo between coworkers and at my work, when one of us gets ready to leave for the day, we often say “I’ve seen enough.”  Well, over a year into dealing with this pandemic, that’s exactly how I feel – I’ve seen enough.

(Ok, I’d actually seen enough about 2 weeks in last year, but now I’ve really seen enough.)

White Girl Wasted

I’m no medical expert and I could be completely pulling this out of my butt, but I’m certain somewhere along the way I learned that when you’re drunk and pass out, it’s actually your body’s way of forcefully shutting down any function that isn’t necessary at the moment (like hitting the dance floor for one more song or making a new best friend in the ladies room), in order to focus all it’s energy on the functions needed to keep you alive.  You know, breathing and your heart beating…those little things.  Well, 14 months into this thing, there are days I feel like I’ve passed out.  I’m breathing and my heart is beating, but in order to survive this indefinite period of time, everything else is slowly shutting down.  Things like, looking forward to traveling, hoping to ever meet someone, hanging onto dreams I have, or even pursuing those dreams now.  Basically, anything that takes much mental fortitude.  You can barely plan tomorrow anymore, so it’s kind of like – how can you plan, or even almost hope for the future, when the future is so uncertain?!  And yes, the future has always been uncertain, but even with that, it still felt a little more promising than it does at the moment.  Some days I find myself wondering if there’s a point in having these desires now?  Do they even matter anymore?  Continuing to carry them can get overwhelming and I can’t really handle overwhelming, on top of already coping with our ever-changing rules and restrictions (that don’t make sense), constantly trying to make the best of them AND looking to find some kind of silver lining in all of this!  It’s exhausting.  When it comes to my hopes and dreams and desires now, I’ve started to feel indifferent to them.  Kind of like “meh, whatever, it doesn’t matter”, because it’s easier to do that, than spend the energy working towards or wishing for their outcome in a world that has taken a crazy detour.

Don’t You Know I’m Loco?

If I’ve learned anything this last year, it’s that there’s nothing quite like a never-ending pandemic to make you question your sanity.  It has nothing to do with fearing Covid itself either, but rather dealing with everything surrounding it and the roller coaster of things opening up and shutting down, opening up, shutting down.  Snip snap, snip snap, snip snap.

snip-snap

There have been weeks where I’ve been so grieved by a hopeless, dreamless, possibly travel-less future that I’ve had to fight back tears almost every minute of the day and other weeks where I feel so hardened that I don’t care about anything anymore and couldn’t shed a tear if I tried.  Some days the sunshine hurts my soul more than it helps it, because it makes me nostalgic and pine for better times that no longer seem possible, while other days all I feel is the rage of a thousand suns fill my soul.  I’ve seen a light at the end of the tunnel, but then watched that light stay an equal distance from me, even as we move forward.  I’ve heard more opinions and news than I can stand and had multiple sleepless nights due to the stress of wondering what’s truth, what isn’t and where I stand as a Christian in light of it all.

No More Lemons Thanks, I’ve Made Enough Lemonade

I was texting with a friend about a month ago and we were expressing our frustration about the rumor of yet another shutdown (which did, in fact, happen) and the disappointment of things getting postponed or canceled again, her being a shift worker and having to figure out the homeschool schedule again, not to mention how the last set of rules implemented in December, which were only supposed to be for 3 weeks, still haven’t been lifted!  The general consensus of the texts was “F U covid”.  (Don’t worry, we only used the letters F and U, because we don’t use language like that.)  I mentioned to her that I was finally at my breaking point in every area – work, dating, blog, travel, etc, and I didn’t know how much longer I could handle this crap.  That’s when she replied and said COVID FATIGUE IS REAL!!

The more I sat with that statement, the more I thought – hmmm, maybe that’s what this is!  I’m not depressed or bipolar or a conspiracy theorist and I haven’t gone completely crazy.  I’m just tired!  I’m tired of making lemons into lemonade, and the highs and lows I’ve felt this last year have only been amplified because of already operating from an exasperated state.  When we’re functioning with consistently high emotions, high stress, high whatever – something’s gotta give!  It’s similar to what I said above about passing out; some things have to shut down in order for other things to survive.  If Covid fatigue is a valid thing, it makes sense why I don’t want to deal with any part of life lately that takes anything more than the energy, effort or emotions required to have fun.  It makes sense why I’ve become indifferent to my hopes/dreams/desires.  Heck, it makes sense why I’ve been struggling to write for nearly 2 months, but haven’t cared that much, even though one of my life’s dreams/goals hinges on writing this!

Done.

I was with another friend just the other night and she mentioned to me having Zoom fatigue from so many Zoom meetings over the last year and I had to laugh thinking about how I was working on this blog.  Whenever I talk to friends, the biggest thing we all feel is just done!  We are soooo over [it].

fine-by-me

Last week our Premier announced some of our province’s restrictions being lifted and it sounds exciting, but…we’ve done this before only to have everything locked down again.  I’m looking forward to being able to dine with friends IN a restaurant and because I live alone, being allowed to hang out with more than 2 people who also must live alone (that is, if you followed that rule in the first place), but at the same time, I almost feel like I can’t let my guard down yet.  The light at the end of the tunnel will need to become so bright that it burns my retinas before I believe we’re anywhere near being through this thing and even then, I don’t think anything or anyone will ever be “normal” again.  We’re changed.

So what about you?  How have YOU been holding up?  Have you also “seen enough”?

All I wanna be is done

– Done., The Band Perry

Apples and Oranges

/ Roxie / 3 Comments

Here’s the situation: I know comparison is the thief of contentment and for that reason we’re not supposed to compare ourselves or our lives to other people, but what if the person we’re comparing ourselves to is just ourselves?  Could that really be as bad?

I take really good care of my stuff.  Always have.  I think it’s a practice my parents instilled in me as a kid because we didn’t have a lot of money, so when you got something, you took care of it, but it’s a practice that was emphasized in me as an adult when I found myself in mountains of debt.  When you’ve learned the value of a dollar the hard way, and worked your butt off to get out of debt and save for what you have, you gain a newfound appreciation for your purchases and as such, you take care of them!  Yes, I’m debt free now and have some savings, but that doesn’t mean I’m suddenly going to start being careless with my stuff just because I can afford to!

My iPhone 8 from 2018 still looks as new as the day I got it.  Same with my iPad Air from 2013.  I could go on a vacation for what it would cost me to replace them and I’d rather do that than fork over any more money to Apple, so I treat them like my first born!  You can snoop through my kitchen cupboards and you’ll find that the bakeware I purchased nearly 5 years ago all still looks like new too.  I didn’t buy brand new items to have them immediately get that sticky baked on residue from using a non-stick spray!  (Ironic isn’t it?)  It’s all about the parchment paper for me.  Similarly, I take really good care of my clothes as well.  Cold water, gentle cycle, no dryer, sometimes even hand wash (but not often!).  Because I take such good care of my clothes, I also end up hanging onto them for a lot longer than I realized…

Fat Guy in a Little Coat

Every 6 months or so, I go through my closet and drawers, pull out all of the items that I haven’t worn in at least a year and do a fashion show for myself so I can make piles to take to the thrift store or to consignment.  There are pieces though, that I try on every single time and despite how rarely I wear them, I continue to hang onto them.  Dresses for instance.  I have a bunch of dresses from Christmas parties past or weddings I attended that I keep, because when that one, random, formal event pops up, you just might need them and why buy a new dress when you already own a bunch?!  Same goes for vacation clothes.  Where I live in Canada, I rarely need clothes for a hot climate, but when I go on a vacation, I suddenly need the shorts and tank tops and sundresses that I accumulated from previous vacations, so I can’t get rid of those either!  Unfortunately, my semi-annual fashion show purge usually ends in tears and self-loathing and vows that I’ll never eat sugar again and that I’ll work out 7 days a week, all because the clothes I’ve committed to hang onto, don’t fit like they used to!  The party dresses used to zip up all the way and drape and flow, but they’re not doing any of that anymore!  The shorts used to have extra thigh room, but now my thighs look like sausages desperately trying to escape their casing.

Last year in the purge I decided it was time to invest in a new fall coat, because the one I had was getting a little tight.  This decision wasn’t without a lot of anger that my coat used to be cute and loose and now I could barely zip it up if I had any layers on underneath.  Exactly when did I get so “thick”?!  I wanted more reasons to justify the purchase so I tried to remember how many years I’d been wearing that coat to assure myself I’d gotten my money’s worth out of it.  I figured it had only been a couple, but was surprised when I realized – I bought that coat in 2008!  That’s 12 years I wore that coat.  TWELVE YEARS!  Of course it didn’t fit anymore!  That is a long time and a lot of life happens in a 12 year span!  Then I started to think about the dresses and vacation clothes that get me so upset every time I re-try them on.  Some of the vacation clothes I’ve been hanging onto for at least 8 years and a few of those party dresses are from over 15 years ago!  Why do I expect myself to be the same size I was 8 years ago? 12 years ago? over 15 years ago even?

fat-guy-in-a-little-coat

Me vs. Me

Now that I’m older, I try not to compare myself physically to other girls anymore.  There’s just no point – I’m not them.  I have different genetics and a different metabolism and things that formed me that are outside of my control.  Plus, I already know that I wouldn’t be comparing myself to women my age anymore, because our lives look so different and I don’t feel the same age as them, so I’d be comparing myself to women in my stage [of life] and by now, those women are a good 10 to 20 years younger than me.  It’s just a fact that I biologically can’t keep up with them because I’m already so far beyond them, so it’s not even fair to compare myself!  All I can, or should focus on, is me and I feel like I’ve done pretty well, given what I had to work with – just look at old photos of me! Of course there are still things that I’d love to “modify” (*ahem* this nose), but short of spending thousands and thousands of dollars, I can’t change much else.  I’ve slowly come to accept that this is the way God made me and me alone.  Now when I look in the mirror though, the only person I’m caught up comparing myself to, is my former self.

Remember how you never used to have fat spilling out above and below your bra band, and you didn’t even know chubby armpits were a thing?  Remember when you used to wear shorts because the backs of your legs weren’t riddled with cellulite and you didn’t have any varicose veins?  Remember when your skin was taut and smooth and now it’s tired and wrinkly?

Before I go on, I want to be clear about something because I don’t want to sound insensitive and piss a bunch of people off (which seems inevitable in 2021 anyway).  I know that I’m not actually “fat”.  And while I complain about the extra inches I’ve accumulated, there are people who have serious struggles with their weight and my extra inches might be their goal inches.  And I know how gross it feels when someone who has no right to say anything complains about their size.  It’s like, first of all – screw you and second, ‘if you think you’re fat, then what does that make me?’.  That’s not how I want to make anyone feel when I say these things.  All I want to get across is that FOR ME, what I am now, compared to what I used to be and the size that I used to buy and the clothes in my closet that used to fit and my “normal” that I maintained for most of my life until the last couple of years, is bigger.  FOR ME!  And many people I meet assume I’m about 10 years younger than I am and I actually do think I look better than I ever have, but at the same time, when I look in the mirror, I’m seeing the lines and my skin getting looser and compared to what I used to see, I am so much older.  These are the constant comparisons I’m making now; me vs. me.  And these changes over time, even though most of which are natural and inevitable as you age, make me so angry with myself, as if stopping their progression was somehow in my control!  So why do I have this expectation of myself to be the same as I always was?

This **** is Bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S

I think it’s maybe because my life hasn’t changed at all in 20 years, that I think I shouldn’t have changed at all in 20 years either.  It’s ok for other women, because they’ve lived.  Their grey hair and their wrinkles have been earned through the joys and the stresses of having a husband and a family.  They’re allowed to have outgrown their clothes and have stretch marks, because they’ve grown humans INSIDE of them!  I haven’t done those things.  I haven’t merited my changes.  I’m still trying to accomplish those things (minus the babies)!  And like I said above, instead of being in that stage with other women my age, now I’m in that stage with women half my age.  I might not be comparing myself to them anymore and I know I can’t keep up with their youthful beauty, but I am, unfortunately, competing in the same market as them.  I guess I feel like, if I could stay the same size I was and have a face without wrinkles, then maybe I’d have a fighting chance, but the reality is, my circumference slowly continues to increase with middle age and I’m only going to get older looking from here on out, so if I couldn’t find a spouse when I was younger…smaller…tauter…how do I expect to find one now?  Nobody buys their fruit over ripe.  They’d rather it be under ripe so they have more time with it and can enjoy it when it’s perfect.  Maybe I’ve crossed over into brown banana territory where my only use now is to go in the freezer to make banana bread later?

Glory Days

It’s not just comparing myself physically that’s a problem either.  I’m crazy nostalgic, so some days I’m “triggered” by a song or a scent or the weather and I get caught up comparing my present to my past.  I’ll remember the summer road trips with friends to nowhere in particular or the spontaneous dinners and get togethers we had.  I look back on just the level of hope and anticipation I maintained thinking “maybe today will be the day that…my miracle happens/everything changes/I meet someone…!”, or whatever it was.  It felt like the world was at my fingertips!  Compare that to my every day, here and now reality, and it feels like that world somehow slipped through my fingertips.  Then I start to spiral as I wonder if life will ever be that fun or feel as carefree again, or if the best really is still yet to come or if this present is also my future?  This is about the time that I start to have a mini panic attack, complete with short, labored breaths, uncontrollable tears and a complete sense of dread about life!  But no, comparing ourselves to ourselves couldn’t be that bad…

Stay in Your Lane

Comparison is the death of joy.

– Mark Twain

The death of joy.  The thief of contentment.  Whichever!  I would say it’s pretty clear that YES, comparing ourselves to ourselves is just as bad.  It doesn’t matter who you compare yourself to, comparison is always going to leave you feeling the same way; envious, depressed, lacking, entitled, robbed of something, etc.  Don’t look around and don’t look back!  Don’t compare yourself to anyone else, because you’re not them and you don’t know what they went through to get where they are and don’t compare yourself to your former self, unless it’s to see how far you’ve come.  You’re not who you were yesterday and tomorrow you won’t be who you are today!

Oh, and take my advice – promptly get rid of any clothes that make you feel bad about yourself!

Legacy

/ Roxie / 3 Comments

Here’s the situation: If you died tomorrow, how would people remember you?

Joseph James DeAngelo.  Do you recognize that name?  What about the Visalia Ransacker?  East Area Rapist?  Original Night Stalker?  What if I said the Golden State Killer (GSK)?  Well, if you’re one of those “normal” people who’s not into serial killers, let me give you a little background!

First, I need to start by defending myself against the stereotype of being a ‘basic white girl’ who’s hopped on the true crimeEEBE3A1B-23CF-4FB4-8FC8-4D3A13005AE1 bandwagon.  No.  I am an OG!  I’ve been intrigued by the criminal psyche as far back as I can remember.  I read The Milwaukee Murders, a book about Jeffery Dahmer, in high school.  High school people.  That was 25 years ago!  Perhaps my parents should’ve been concerned, but I think I come by it honestly.  My dad was always watching shows like Dateline and Unsolved Mysteries and when I used to visit him while he was living in a nursing home, his TV was always on whatever channel played Forensic Files marathons.  (My mom on the other hand – not having any of the murder stuff!)

Ok, back to Joseph DeAngelo.  This guy was all of those monikers I mentioned above and actually a few more.  Between 1973 and 1986 he committed at least 120 burglaries, 50 rapes and 13 murders in California, but they didn’t catch him until 2018 when he was 72 years old!  That’s FORTY FIVE years after his first crime!  This guy was a real piece of work too!  He wasn’t just a burglar/rapist/murderer; he was what nightmares are made of!  He would break into houses and make wives tie up their husbands, then put dishes on the husband’s back, threatening that if he heard the dishes rattle, he’d murder everyone in the house.  Then he’d rape the wife in another room, all the while her husband could do nothing, unless he wanted everyone to die.  One woman reported waking up in the middle of the night to a tapping noise and when she looked around, there was a man standing in her doorway, face covered by a balaclava, NO PANTS ON and tapping a knife against the door frame!  Sometimes DeAngelo would remain in the home for hours after the rape and eat the people’s food or be so silent that the women thought they were finally safe to move, but out of nowhere, he’d be right there to threaten her not to, terrorizing her again.  It’s even said he would do reconnaissance on his victims and break-in in advance to unlock windows or unload guns and even plant ligatures he would use later on!  (I apologize in advance if you will never sleep again!)  In spite of my knowledge about all of these horrible crimes, I actually cried for DeAngelo, now 74, while watching his hearing, which was streamed live on June 29, 2020.

You might be questioning who’s the bigger psychopath now, me or him, but let me explain!!  Seeing DeAngelo at that hearing brought about a lot of confusing feelings for me!  On one hand, the man who committed these crimes and got away with it for 45 years, needed to be brought to justice!  On the other hand, the frail man they wheeled into the courtroom, reminded me of my dad.  My dad was a frail 74 year old when he died.  DeAngelo hardly had a voice and when he did say something, he was soft spoken.  My dad didn’t say much, but when he did, he was soft spoken also.  For that reason, it was hard to look at DeAngelo and picture him as the evil person I’ve learned about.  He just looked like an old man.  Or like my dad.  Or like any other old man you’d see in his condition and feel a bit sorry for.  It’s like aging evens the playing field to where you can no longer distinguish someone’s past.  Were they a business mogul or were they homeless?  Were they a jock or a nerd?  the life of the party or a recluse?  a stand up citizen or a serial killer?  When you get older, you just look older and we assume you lived a good life and have that sweet grandparent demeaner.

My dad spent about 2 years in that nursing home, so anytime I visited I had the (dis)pleasure of seeing countless people parked in their wheelchairs, staring at a TV with vacant eyes, mouths gaping open and half their wits about them.  Your brain knows it’s the best or the safest place for these people, but your heart can’t help but hurt witnessing it and that’s part of the reason I cried during DeAngelo’s hearing.  I saw in him, what broke my heart every time I walked down the halls of that nursing home, but the main reason?  I just kept thinking about how this was the legacy this man was leaving behind!  How this is what he chose to do with his life?  This man has 3 daughters; probably some grandkids too!  Whether he was ever actually a loving father or grandfather to them, or had close friendships or career achievements, no longer matters.  When you Google his name, you’ll always find the words “American serial killer” tied to him now.  This is what he’ll be remembered for.  Forever.

Disclaimer: Just in case you misunderstood any of the above, let me clarify, I am not on DeAngelo’s side.  I do not feel bad for him.  Also, it later came out that the frail man I saw in the courtroom was all a façade.  If you’re curious to learn more about this case, listen to the Wondery/LA Times podcast Man in the Window, or watch HBO’s 6 part docu-series I’ll Be Gone in the Dark, which includes footage from after he was arrested.

Do You See What I See?

When I was in high school, a friend and I always gave nicknames to people.  The names were just between the 2 of us and either given to a crush we had, or to someone based off an encounter we had or observations we made about their appearance.  Some of the names were harmless, like my crush who we called “sexy breeding horse in a speedo” (don’t ask me why!) or how we called a guy named Rob, “the one who runs”, because at the end his date with my friend, he literally ran away, but some of the names were not very nice at all!  (No, you don’t get any examples of those!)  I remember one time, hearing that friend who I delegated nicknames with, telling someone else “Roxie is the best at insulting people!”.  At the time, I thought that was a great compliment, but now when I think about it, it’s pretty cringy!

Unfortunately for me (and you), I’m judgmental.  Personality tests have always confirmed this trait about me too, so it seems to be a quality that comes just as natural as my love of true crime!  Myers Briggs tells me I’m an ISFJ, J = JUDGING.  The Enneagram says I’m a type one – The Reformer.  Type one’s are “highly critical of both self and others; picky, judgmental, perfectionistic.”  Not only am I naturally judgmental, I’m also highly observant.  A combination that, when used for good, can actually be very helpful and constructive!  For example, I see things and pay attention to details that many people are completely oblivious to, so if you need an outsiders perspective on areas of inefficiency or things of the like, then having a critical eye is an asset!  However, when I use my powers for evil, that’s when you get the person who is “the best” at insulting people.  *cringe*

Be Friendly.  Duh.

I know this guy and everybody loves him.  Do you know one of these people too?  They’re the type that others are naturally drawn to.  Like, people just love them.  I love them!  And I’m jealous of them because that has never really been my experience.  Usually people are afraid of me when they first meet me, then after they get to know me a bit, they warm to me.  Years ago, that guy and I were walking down the street and, of course, every stranger smiled or started chatting with him and I finally asked – “what is it that you do that people just love you, because people never just love me!”  With a shrug, he said “I’m just friendly.”  Friendly huh?  Is it that easy?  But wait…I’m friendly – how come I never get the warm reception or interaction he gets?!

What’s Colder than Dry Ice?

Chazz Michael Michaels – But don’t let her fool you, she’s as cold as the ice she skates on.  She’s like dry ice.  Wait, she’s colder than that.  What’s colder than dry ice?

Jimmy MacElroy – I dunno.

Chazz Michael Michaels – I’ll tell you what is.  Oksana.

– Will Ferrell & Jon Heder, Blades of Glory (2007)

For most of my life, I’ve been told that I’m cold.  I just assumed it was because I’m more of a realist than some hippie, feely, “empath” (ugh, empaths! *insert eye roll here*), or because my shyness has a tendency to come off as disinterest, or because I’m not one of those girls who raises their voice 10 octaves to make themselves sound sweeter than they actually are.  Think Regina George in Mean Girls – “Omg, I love your skirt, where did you get it? // That is the ugliest effing skirt I’ve ever seen.”  That’s too fake for me and I don’t do fake.  Even though people have always told me I’m cold and I realize I’m not an overtly mushy person, I never really considered myself being that cold, because I know me.  I know I’m nice.  I know I’m fun.  I know I have a big heart.  However, after seeing first hand just how differently people reacted to that guy than they ever have to me, I needed to determine why, as warm as I might think I am, nobody sees that in me!

One word: RBF.  Ok, no, it’s not (entirely) that, but that certainly doesn’t help my cause!  What I discovered is that I purposely give off cold vibes, without realizing that I’m doing it on purpose!  It’s a form of protection.  I anticipate rejection, so when I’m alone and go into a group setting or a new and uncomfortable situation, I have a tendency to make myself unapproachable.  You see, because of that anticipated rejection, I would rather walk into a room and risk not being engaged with because I came across as cold, than walk into a room, smiling and super friendly, and not be engaged with.  At least the one outcome I controlled.  It was my choice, whereas if someone chose not to interact with me at my friendliest, then I’d be insulted and my self esteem would be hurt and I’d look like a fool, like Tai from this scene in Clueless:

clueless-tai

The problem with protecting myself though, was that I actually wanted people to approach me!  I wanted people to see me as friendly without having to get to know me first!  I wanted to be one of those people that others are naturally drawn to, but I wasn’t giving anyone the opportunity.  I was too busy trying to avoid an outcome that might not even happen!  

If you want to be seen as friendly, be friendly.

Return On Investment

As I’ve gotten older, one of the things that’s started to matter more to me is what people think of me.  Ok, it’s always mattered, but now it’s not in the same way as before.  Now it’s more – what am I known for?  What do people say about me or tell other people about me?  How will I be remembered?  What kind of legacy will I leave?

After my self discovery, I decided to give this “just friendly” thing a whirl.  Like I said, I already thought I was ‘just friendly’, but this time I would make myself more approachable on purpose.  I wouldn’t be fake or anything other than me, but I would certainly fake confidence!  I would smile and quit trying to protect myself.  If I looked like a fool, then I looked like a fool.  If people chose not to engage with me; their loss, because I’m awesome.  And that’s the attitude I went into those new and uncomfortable or group settings with anytime I was alone (and there’ve been a lot of those the last few years) and you know what?  Risking being friendly has a much higher ROI than being guarded ever has!

Last fall I joined a girls small group with a bunch of strangers and on one of our final evenings together we did an exercise where each person spent time in the hot seat, while the rest of the group went around and told you what they saw when they looked at you.  It could be anything from personality traits to gifts to skills to attributes and you know what?  Not one of the girls mentioned ever thinking I was cold!  Instead, they told me they saw a soft heart.  They saw good energy, resilience, beauty; inside and out, a natural leader, wit, confidence and my personal favorite – an atmosphere shifter!  That means my very presence can establish a new environment!  That’s amazing!  That’s what I want to be known for or remembered by, not for being cold or judgmental or “the best” at insulting people!  I know I won’t ever have kids of my own and maybe not even a husband to carry on my memory, but even though the family tree stops with me, I can still impact the people around me.  I want their lives to be better because they knew me and perhaps that’s my legacy.

So, if you died tomorrow, how would people remember you?  And how do you want them to remember you?  What legacy do you want to leave behind?  It’s never too early to work towards it, because legacy isn’t something that happens overnight!  Legacy is built through consistency of character!  Now with that in mind, go and build it!

White Flag

/ Roxie / Leave a comment

Here’s the situation: Surrender is hard!  But why?  If God is good and God is for me and God has a plan that’s better than any of my plans, why aren’t I a little more “Jesus take the wheel” and a little less “hold my poodle”?

white-chicks-poodle-1

Before I get started, this blog is sort of a continuation of two previous blogs.  I reference thoughts or circumstances from them, so without my having to recap everything, I suggest you also read The One Without a Title and Hope Lost. (Click on either title for the link)

No Surrender

Does anyone remember when the brand No Fear was all the rage?  It was definitely in the 90’s.  Did you know there was also a brand called No Surrender?  If this is the first you’re hearing of it, then your family must’ve had money!  It was the ‘more affordable’ (aka imitation) brand they sold at Kmart and well, we didn’t have money so we shopped there!  I also worked there for a year and a half and every time I would walk past a rack of the t-shirts, I would say under my breath “no surrender!” in a sort of Braveheart FREEDOM-esque voice and it always make me chuckle, because the brand was supposed to sound so hardcore, but like, you’re lame.  You’re sold at Kmart and we all know you’re just trying to be No Fear.

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Well, I wonder if every time I uttered those words to myself, the idea was actually planting seeds that I unknowingly watered, because I have walked out way too many years of my life in a state of ‘no surrender’.  That doesn’t sound so bad though, does it?  I mean, it actually sounds kind of strong!  It’s just another way of saying I’m not giving up or backing down and those can be really good things, but unfortunately, when you become a Christian, one of the main things you’re called to do is surrender to God (submit your own will to the will of God, showing complete faith in Him, belief in His promises and choosing to trust Him in everything), so if you’re clinging to your own things and unwilling to surrender them, it becomes a real internal tug-of-war, let me tell you!

Modus Operandi

Have you ever run an idea past a friend and all you really wanted was for them to agree with what you’re thinking, but instead they ask something so frustrating, like what your motives are or if your intentions are pure?  Um, of course they are!  …and we really do believe that most of the time too, but if you’ve ever dared to strip back your excuses and be 100% honest with yourself, you might’ve found that your intentions were not quite as pure as you thought!  That’s kind of what I discovered about myself with surrender.

For years I’ve been convinced that I’ve surrendered every area of my life to God and I was using the things that I do, or don’t do (anymore), to quantify that.  I mean, I go to church every Sunday, I serve on a team and I join small groups.  I tithe and I read my bible.  I volunteer.  I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, I don’t do drugs, I don’t look for validation from men or relationships, etc, etc.  I felt like Chandler Bing – could I be anymore surrendered?!  Turns out, I could.

(Stomp Stomp Clap, Stomp Stomp Clap) He Will, He Will, Prod You

I believe that a lot of us to need to hit a rock bottom of some sort before we’ll make a change.  That, or we need to get to a place where we’re finally sick enough of the way things are that we’re willing to try something different.  At least that’s how it is for me!  I mean, why would we change anything if things are working for us?  If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right?  And it’s because I’m a Christian that I also believe that God will sometimes allow a once-good situation to turn sour or “bad” things to happen in our lives in order to drive that change.  It’s like His way of cattle-prodding us to move and even though He’s probably trying to move us to a healthier state or to something better, sometimes it feels like nothing more than a cattle prod!

Previously On The Situation Room

If you’ve been keeping up with TSR, then you know that the past few years I’ve felt like I was in a constant deficit.  It’s been one change after another for other people and their gains were usually my losses.  I would get close to a friend and then they would get married.  I would get close to another friend and then they would move away.  Others started having babies and others left the church I was attending.  Everything was changing for me and yet nothing was changing for me.  It becomes pretty disheartening watching everyone pass you by, and they’re not just months ahead of you, they’re years ahead of you!  You start to feel pathetic and like something must be wrong with you.  You wonder if you’re being punished for something you did in your past.  You feel like you’ve failed at life or you’ve failed at being a woman and no matter what you do, your life just. won’t. progress.  After enough time goes by without any change, you can’t even see how anything ever could change anymore.  Reality just becomes too real.

That’s the place I had gotten to earlier last year and that’s when I figured – fine, if this is my lot in life, then I guess I’ll just try to make the best of it.  I have to, I have no other choice.  As frustrating and disappointing and heartbreaking as it was that that had even become my option, I was certain I could at least survive this life, as long as I had the few close friends I had left and nothing more changed.

…and that’s when God laughed.  (And rustled up the ol’ cattle prod.)

Do You Smell What The Rock is Cooking?

If you’ve been keeping up with TSR, then you’ll also know that last year 2 more of my close friends’ lives changed drastically – changing everything for me, again!  And then there was that guy I mentioned in Hope Lost.  Even after he had cut off our contact, I still left the door ajar.  I mean, we didn’t completely stop talking and I still maintained my curiosity about what might happen in the future (and I’m pretty sure the curiosity was mutual).  However, that door was swiftly SLAMMED shut on New Year’s Eve of all days!  And not even during the day, but like, around 9 p.m.; leaving me with one final blow to end the year.

That evening I found out (from the guy himself) that shortly after me, he had met a new girl and dated her, “officially”.  This from the guy who told me multiple times he couldn’t handle anything more than a friendship at the moment, and that we couldn’t stay in contact because he needed to go figure out his life and work on himself, by himself.  Mmhmm…I see that worked out well.  After learning of this new information, a social media post he had put up a few weeks prior immediately came to mind.  In it, he had cryptically announced how he’d met someone this last year and fallen in love with her (and he assumed this someone would read the post and know who she was).  When I read it I thought – oh wow! I figured he liked me, but I didn’t realize he felt that strongly!  If you’re tracking with me though, you can probably guess – that post was NOT about me!  If the other stuff was the door being slammed shut, then that was the door being locked and the key being thrown away!

At the literal end of 2020, I had been stripped of all of my comforts, all of my potential plans or hopes for the future and everything/everyone I was relying on to survive.  The real annoying part though, is that I suspected I knew who kept allowing these things to get taken from me and why.

Friggin’ Surrender

As I started the new year, rock bottom and sick enough of the way things were to be willing to make a change, I began to think about surrender.  Surrender (and/or putting God first) is actually what’s been unearthed every time I was struggling or wondering if and when things would ever change for me.  I would be sharing with someone and they’d Matthew 6:33 me, or anytime I was going through something, the church message would always be about Matthew 6:33.  Anyone who was ever trying to encourage me, even strangers, would quote Matthew 6:33 to me.  I hated Matthew 6:33.

But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.

– Matthew 6:33 (NKJV) (emphasis mine)

When I signed up to see a counselor for 6 sessions a few years back, I wanted the quick fix.  Tell me what’s wrong with me and how to fix it so that my life can move forward.  We pulled back a few layers and no surprise, unearthed surrender…or my lack thereof.  What? – don’t you remember my list of how surrendered I am?  After 3 sessions we agreed that meeting any further would be pointless; both her and I knew what I needed to do.  I think I went home and over time just let go of a few of my dreams, further proving to myself that I’d surrendered even more areas, but in reality, defeat ≠ surrender.

This year though, with no comforts and no plans and no people left to rely on, combined with my unwillingness to go around this mountain again, it was time to try something new.  “Ok God, I get it, you are literally all I have left.  Now what?”  As hopeless as I may ever feel, I’m also an action person.  I’m not the type who’s going to cry about her life without also working towards a solution and this year, the solution looked like a white flag.

Irrational Fears

I sat down to really think about surrender and once I stripped back my excuses and actually got honest with myself, I began to realize just how scared of surrender I was.  How scared of surrender I’ve been.  In fact, I am terrified of God’s will for my life!  I started jotting down notes:

  • I feel like if I surrender, I can’t have dreams or plans or desires of my own, or even an opinion!  And if I do still have those things, then maybe I’m not fully surrendered? or ever will be?
  • What if I surrender my will for God’s will and His will is that I become a missionary?  I don’t want to be a missionary!
  • I’m afraid that if I surrender my singleness for whatever God has in store, maybe what he has in store is singleness?  Or that if I surrender my desire to be married, God will say “ok finally!  Now that you’re ok being single, that’s what you get – being single”.
    • On the flip side, I’m afraid that if I surrender my desire to be married, I’ll actually lose that desire and I don’t know if I want to lose that.  Plus then I’ll have wasted so many years “becoming the person” and learning what it takes to have a great relationship that I don’t even get to put it into practice?
  • I’m afraid if I surrender my timeline and the things that I want take too long to come to fruition, I’ll just get discouraged and be here again.

Not only all of that, but HOW do you surrender?  How do you go from wanting things for years to suddenly being ok with the possibility of a different outcome?  Is surrender just a simple choice – “I choose surrender!” or is it a struggle – “I want to surrender, but I need help with it!”?  I actually do believe that God’s plan IS the best plan for my life, but what if His plan isn’t even close to mine?  What if His plan holds nothing more than this life that I’m already living, but being ok with it?  And why would he create me one way, put desires in me and then ask me to let go of them?

Guess I’m Dating Jesus Now

Gosh, I pulled a thread and the whole sweater unraveled!  I guess when it comes down to it, we’re really only willing to surrender to someone we truly trust and you can only trust someone you know and you can only know someone you spend time with!  Apparently I don’t know God as well as I think I do, since I’m always anticipating the “lessons” He plans to teach me, instead of anticipating the blessings He wants to give me.

The best way I could think of to rectify this whole hot mess of mine was to fast.  Let me tell you something, which is probably no shock now since it seems I’m hardly even a Christian!  I’ve never fasted.  And I’ve never intended to fast either!  Good for the people who do, but I love food.  The few times I’ve considered fasting, my motives were wrong.  I wanted the quick fix – maybe if I were to fast, God would give me what I want.

Fasting really is not about trying to get miracles and breakthroughs from God.  It is about aligning yourself with God and what he already wants.  We don’t fast to get God to change something.  We fast so that we are changed and come into a greater level of faith.

– Stovall Weems, Awakening

I need more faith.  I need to surrender.  I need to know God more and trust God.  This time my intentions were pure.

January 1st when I wrote out my goals for the year, under spiritual goals (there’s 5 categories: personal, relational, financial, spiritual and miracle), I wrote “maybe fast for the 1st time ever. UGH“.  By January 2nd I had already decided I was going to fast this year.  It would be 21 days and I would start Monday, January 11th.  Then the very next day, January 3rd, my church announced they were starting 21 days of fasting and prayer on the 10th.  I opted to bump up my start date so that I could do it alongside the church and with the book Awakening (a 21 day devotional about prayer and fasting).  I won’t go into all of the details here, but I allowed myself to eat from 7 a.m. to 3 p.m. (8 hrs) and chose to fast everything but water from 3 p.m. to 7 a.m. (16 hrs).  (Feel free to message me if you want more details about the whole experience.)

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I’m happy to report I finished the 21 days yesterday and I crushed it!  Like, I’m actually super proud of myself!  So here we are, the first day after and how do I feel?  Well, I can’t say that I heard from God or know my distinct purpose or that I’m even expecting my life to change at all, but I feel alive again and my spirits are up and my fears are (mostly) down.  Yes, I’m still a little afraid of God’s will, but I’m choosing (because it doesn’t come natural just yet) to continue working on my surrender and trusting that God is good, God is for me and His plan is better than any of my plans.  So, I guess…Jesus take the wheel?

I would rather live my life as if there is a God and die to find out that there isn’t, than live my life as if there isn’t and die to find out there is.

– Albert Camus

Hope Lost

/ Roxie / 1 Comment

Here’s the situation: The past couple days social media has been filled with posts about how hard 2020 was, but in spite of it all, people learned so many lessons and are hopeful and ready for 2021.  I’m having a hard time sharing this sentiment.  The last half of 2020 and even right up until New Year’s Eve itself, managed to steal what hope I had left.

How long do you suppose we’re supposed to hang on to hope for?  And I don’t mean in the vague sense of the word like “here’s hoping” or “fingers crossed”.  I mean like, actually believing for something.  Does that kind of hope have an expiry date?  Is there a time when we just need to let go?

Enough.  Enough Now.

– Love Actually

You’ve probably seen an episode of American Idol where someone with big dreams but no talent auditions.  It’s so cringy!  They actually think they have a chance, but as the viewer at home we’re thinking – this is never going to happen for you, you need to let it go!  I wonder if this is where I’m at now?  Am I the delusional hopeful clinging to the chance of catching my metaphorical “big break”?  Maybe it’s time for me to just accept things for what they are and try to move on, even though I know I’ll always be slightly disappointed.  It feels like that disappointment would be easier to deal with though than continuing to keep my hopes up.  At least I could live life for what it is instead of always anticipating what might be around the corner…and finding out, there’s never anything around the corner.

This is how I feel lately anyway.  I’ve been believing for some outlandish things for a few years now and other smaller things for decades, but I’m tired of believing for them without even one teensy, tiny little shift in my life to confirm that I’ve been moving in the right direction.  Actually, it feels like I’m somehow getting further away from them and I don’t know how much longer I can hang on.  I’m spent.  I want to give up.  My hope tank is on empty.

Crappy New Year!

I gotta say, I think Covid might be the best thing that ever happened to New Year’s Eve!  I hate New Year’s Eve.  I’ve hated it for 20+ years in fact.  It always felt like there was so much pressure on what to do, where to go, which friend group to spend it with…  And nobody wants to commit to anyone or a plan, because a better option might come along, so you’re left in limbo, meanwhile if you actually want to attend an event, you need to know in advance because tickets sell out, so it’s usually just stressful and a lot of build up for a total let down.  It’s especially uncomfortable when you’re single.  At midnight all of the couples turn to each other to kiss and you’re left awkwardly standing there until they finish so they can throw you a pity New Year’s high five.

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Thankfully I’m old now and don’t really care anymore and if I’m in bed before midnight – bonus!  Even though the pressure of New Year’s Eve has petered out over the years, I still don’t like the feeling a new year brings.  Other people tend to get excited about a clean slate and new opportunities and what’s to come, but after the magic of Christmas ends for me, I usually just think to myself, “great, now we start this same BS all over again”.

I suppose my January 1st “new year, new me” attitude would be more positive if I felt like I had anything to look forward to, but I’ve started too many January 1st’s with the anticipation that “this might be the year!!” and ended enough December 31st’s to know that it’s never been the year.  Even with my hope waning a little bit every passing year, there’s always been a small reserve in the tank, but 2020 seems to be the year that sucked that dry and if you can believe, it had nothing to do with Covid either!

Year in Review

January to July of 2020 were going really good for me, even with Covid being a part of our lives.  I was lucky enough to still have a job, a job where I could go IN to the office every day and not have to work from home.  My spirits were up because I had friends who also weren’t going to let the fear of Covid dictate their lives, so we went on adventures and explored new parts of our province and even odder, while everyone was in some form of lockdown/quarantine, I managed to meet someone!  I spent 4 months getting to know this someone too and was really impressed by this man.  Circumstances were a little complicated for the time being though, so for the season, it could only be a friendship.  But that friendship came with a certain level of curiosity for the future.  It’s sad to admit, but that was probably the first time in my life I feel like I’ve shown my full self to someone…and they seemed to accept it.  Like it, even!  For the first time I was experiencing what it was like to be able to have an open and honest dialog with a mature man and what it felt like when you’re actually treated the way people tell you a man should treat you!  Life was good, but it’s my life and what would I have to write about if things ever worked out?  Due to the aforementioned complicated circumstances, the guy needed to take some time to himself and figure his life out.

You know that saying “it’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all“.  Well, whoever said that needs to give their head a shake.  I’m not saying I was in love with the guy, but unfortunately now I know what it feels like to be cared for and cheered on and unconditionally accepted, and what I assume it must feel like to be loved (even though I know he didn’t love me).  So now, I actually know what I’ve been missing out on and how to be treated and I have to try and find that AGAIN, with someone who’s actually ready for a relationship?!  It took 41 years to find a glimpse of that; the idea of finding it again seems impossible.  My brain and my heart and my very real reality can’t even picture how that could ever happen, but now how could I go back to anything less?

Maybe It’s the Indo Talking.  I Mean Endo.

Mid-July is when everything started to take a turn.  That’s when the guy ended our communication and if I wasn’t hurting enough emotionally, why not throw some physical pain in there too and have my body turn against me?!  What the eff, am I Job or something?  (That’s Bible humor for those of you that don’t know.)

I saw the doctor more times this year than I’ve probably seen her in the last 15.  I could share all the fun details of how I was squished and poked and prodded and violated multiple times, but I’ll give you the Coles Notes version.  Amongst a few other findings, I was diagnosed with Endometriosis this fall.  In fact, my doctor suspects I’ve had it all along!  Information that might’ve been helpful 28 years ago…

What is Endometriosis?  You can Google it, it’s nothing serious, but basically the symptoms are painful periods and difficulty conceiving.  As an extremely single women, with zero prospects, who’s a month away from turning 42, I’m not too concerned if I have difficulties conceiving, since the possibility of conception at this point would be as miraculous as Mary giving birth to Jesus.  As for the painful periods – uh, yea, I’ve been very aware of those since I was 13!  Moral of the story, as a first option of treatment, my doctor placed me back on birth control to try and normalize my body again and when I had the prescription filled the pharmacist said to me “pay attention to your moods, we’re adjusting your hormone levels and some women get depressed.”

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Now, I don’t know if it’s birth control induced mood swings, all of the changes that happened this year with the guy and my friend moving away and my cousin having a baby (read about it in The One Without a Title) or if it’s the January 1st funk of the pending doom of another 365 days of the same…  Maybe it’s a combo of all 3.  All I know is I’ve never felt as completely hopeless as I have the last couple months.

The New Normal

I’ve done the same thing on New Year’s Day for years now.  I pull out a journal and review the previous years goals, I write down some of the highlights of the year passed and I write out my goals for the current year.  This year though, I had a hard time coming up with anything.  Covid is still restricting us from so many things and I’m the girl who relies on future plans or goals, or something to look forward to or work towards, to keep me going.  I feel like that’s all I’ve got and without it, I don’t have a reason to go on.  I’ve said it in multiple blogs, why am I here?  What is my purpose?  I don’t have a husband or kids.  I don’t have my dream career or a job that any other girl couldn’t do.  I write this blog, but there’s thousands of bloggers out there to choose from.  I’m running out of reasons to convince myself why I even exist and looking into 2021, I just get sad, because it already feels like nothing could possibly change.  And when I think about that possibility of living another year and being in this exact same place in a year’s time, like I have been so many January’s before, I’m just done.  I’m seriously so over it.  I’ve clung to the hope of “one day” and “I must be getting closer” and I’ve prayed outrageous prayers for years with no changes and I don’t know how much longer I can do this for.  And even if by some miracle the world would go back to “normal”, after 2020, the normal I had doesn’t even exist anymore, so what do I have to look forward to?

One Day at a Time

I usually try to end my blogs on a positive note so I don’t sound like a complete Debbie Downer, but I don’t know that I have a great pep talk in me right now.  All I know is this – I don’t have the answers to my questions and I don’t know what 2021 holds, but I know that I’m closing the door on 2020 and some of the things I thought I was being led to, but have been proven otherwise.  My pastor said this morning to take back what 2020 took from you and it took my hope, so I’m going to try and get some of that back, even though admittedly, I’m actually really afraid to.  Keeping your hopes up means they have a place to fall from and disappoint you and mine usually do!  But, I will continue to pick myself up, one day at a time, put on a smile, even if some days it’s fake and I will keep going, because really, where else do I have to go?

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