Empowerment

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.

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)

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!

Distractions

/ Roxie / 2 Comments

Here’s the situation: I think we waste a lot of time filling our days with distractions, not realizing there might be a bigger reason why we’re doing what we’re doing

I recently got sucked in to an episode of Dr. Phil, and I never watch shows like Dr. Phil!  It was a long weekend, a friend and I had just got back from a really long walk and when we plunked our lifeless bodies in front of the TV, Dr. Phil was the first thing that came on.  I’m ashamed and embarrassed and what’s worse – it was 3 parts, so I even set my PVR to record the next 2 episodes, because I had to know how it ended!

We missed the first 20 minutes, but were quickly intrigued by the topic of a lady who had been catfished by multiple men and scammed into giving away thousands of dollars.  I’m talking thousands; like over $100,000!  She met these men on online dating sites, but never in person, 3 of whom she got engaged to after as little as 5 days, 2 of which engagements overlapped, and conveniently, the men always happened to be stuck in another country or in some other extenuating circumstance that required her to send them money!

This lady pissed me off!  She was mousy and insecure and would barely look up to make eye contact.  Every time she opened her mouth to speak, I got more and more frustrated with her.  How can she be so naïve?  How can she fall for what is so obviously a scam?  How can I reach through the TV and slap her across her stupid face?!

She didn’t compute that she had been catfished and scammed, so throughout the 3 episodes Dr. Phil tried to make her face the facts.  He walked her through a timeline of her relationships and the money she’d lost and the absurdity of it all.  Dr. Phil sent a staff member to the country and address where 1 of these men said to be, but the address didn’t exist!  Dr. Phil even found the real men behind 2 of the photos and guess what?  They weren’t the men this woman was engaged to, but rather, men whose photos had been stolen and used by the catfishers’ on their profiles.

When all was said and done and Dr. Phil had done his best to prove everything was a lie (even though she still didn’t believe all of it was), she hung her head and said “now I have nothing left”.  What she had, and lost, was really just a fantasy and a distraction from reality.  As much as I hated this woman, a small piece of me felt for her and could even identify with her.  (Is this that empathy thing people are always talking about?)

Little Miss Analyzer

I think I’ve done every personality test out there and the result is always the same –  I’m an analyzer.  I’ve also cursed every personality test out there, because I want to be one of the fun personalities instead!  Alas, they are accurate, I am an analyzer.  I’m always surveying and processing and calculating the information I’m taking in.  I’m like the Terminator.  You know how he would scan someone up and down and gather data on his little red computer screen eyes?  (That’s how 1991’s Terminator 2 worked at least!)  Well, that’s how I feel – especially when it comes to guys.  Brace yourself for the crazy…

It doesn’t matter who you are in relation to me: someone I’ve been friends with for years, someone I’ve been on 1 date with or even a stranger I had a 3 minute conversation with; I’m constantly collecting intel and asking myself 1 of 2 questions – could this be the one*? or could you see yourself with this guy? (Unless of course you’re married, then you’re dead to me!)

I know that makes me sound like I should have the shower scene music from Psycho playing behind me at all times, but I swear I’m stable!  I blame this romanticism on my upbringing with Disney and rom-coms and years of listening to real life couples tell the tales of how they met!  The normal and/or “we met online” stories don’t often get expanded on, so it’s usually the unique ones that you hear every detail of.  Like, a guy that helped a random girl get her luggage off the baggage carousel at an airport, or strangers who met in line at a Starbucks.  When you’ve been single for a long time, or maybe I should say, when you’ve been hoping to find the one* for a long time, and infiltrated with so many exception-to-the-rule stories, it’s hard not to think that that magical moment could maybe, potentially, hopefully, one day be a possibility for you too.  Thus, your senses are always slightly heightened in every situation, especially when you’re already an analyzer!

If my brain can contemplate those questions with guys I’m not in a relationship with, just imagine how far and how fast it runs when I’m actually dating someone!

* I don’t subscribe to the notion of there being “the one”, so I’m only using this phrase as a concept that you can relate to, but really what I mean is I’m looking for my SOMEone

Love Hurts.  Love Bites.  Love is a Battlefield.

When life is going good, I forget to savor the moments.  I have this tendency to take the moments and build on them in my mind with grandiose fantasies of what could be and reside in those future moments.  I really should be in a Disney movie or a rom-com, because that’s the reality I like to live in.  And in Disney or rom-coms, that reality works out 100% of the time!  Unfortunately, real life doesn’t always and nothing reminds me of that faster than a break up.

Break ups suck!  I used to think they only sucked when you’re the one being dumped, but it turns out, they suck when you’re the one doing the dumping too…maybe just not quite as much!  I think the hardest part about a break up, whichever end of it you might be on, is not always letting go of the person, but letting go of the routine and the rhythms you created with that person and letting go of the picture you had for your future.  A break up robs you of what might’ve been.  I think that’s where we can get hung up or feel like we have nothing left.  The certainty we (thought we) had, just became uncertain and starting back at zero is a discouraging and scary place to be.  What if we never find anyone again?  What if our life doesn’t turn out the way we hoped?  How do we survive reality, when reality sometimes just bites?

The Great Escape

How do you cope with pain? rejection? disappointment? heartbreak? loneliness?  Even boredom?  Do you lose yourself in Netflix or video games or drown your sorrows with drugs or alcohol?  Are you a workaholic?  Shopaholic?  Do you eat your feelings or do you go extreme in the opposite direction and harness them into fitness?  Do you post on social media strictly to get likes because you need an ego boost?  Or maybe you’re addicted to dating apps and have multiple meaningless hook ups because attention is nice.  Perhaps you go on online dating sites with good intentions and get rapt up in a chat relationship with someone you don’t actually know, but they make you feel special and like you have something in your life?  Does that sound like that was maybe the case for the lady on Dr. Phil?  If you couldn’t identify with her before, can you now?

I can only assume she poured herself into her alternate online universe to distract herself from the pain • rejection • disappointment • heartbreak • loneliness • boredom in her real life.  And I base that on the thinking that we often do the same.  Our distractions just might not look so overtly desperate or we can get away with ours because they’re more socially acceptable.  In fact, we’re so used to constant stimulation, we might not even recognize that we are just distracting ourselves.  And there ain’t no shame in that game, we’ve all been there in some way!

We don’t like to sit with our feelings or actually take the time necessary to heal before moving on to the next thing, because the reality of that is, it might hurt more than we thought and take longer than we want.  So instead, we distract ourselves because distractions feel good, but more importantly, distractions distract!  They are an escape.  They give us something to focus on and help us forget reality or numb our pain, if even for just a little while.  Distractions pass the time, but when we’re distracted, we’re not passing it with any purpose!

Dis·trac·tion (noun) – a thing that prevents someone from giving full attention to something else

I’m sure you’ve heard the sayings wherever you go, there you are, or wherever you go, you take you with you.  They’re true.  You can’t outrun your pain, because you take it with you and you can only hide it from yourself for so long.   Whatever you choose to bury or ignore or distract yourself from, doesn’t go away, it just drags out the process and delays the inevitable!  It’ll still be there waiting for you whenever you’re ready to deal with it and you will have to deal with it, in some way, at some point.

lizlemon

Insert Food Related Metaphor Here

I don’t know about you, but when I’m at a potluck or a buffet and I have a variety of food on a plate in front of me, I like to take a nibble of each first to gauge the order I want to eat in.  This way I can avoid the stuff that isn’t good, eat the ok food next and finish with the really good stuff, leaving on a high note, because there’s nothing worse than your last bite sucking!  Moral of the story – I don’t want to fill up on food that wasn’t worth the space in my stomach and have no room left for the good stuff or a second helping!  That’s kind of how I feel about life too – I don’t want to fill all of the empty spaces with distractions and have no room left for the good stuff when it comes along!

So what do we do with our free time if we’re not distracted?  Honestly, I’m still trying to figure that out!  It can be especially hard when you’re single and watching other people with their full lives, while yours feels pretty vacant.  Distractions almost seem like the only option to bide your time and believe me, there have been plenty of moments I’ve found solace in almost every one of those things I listed.  Heck, there are still times I find solace in them!  I think the best we can do is keep our motivations in check to make sure we’re not just just trying to fill a hole and instead, “distract” ourselves with healthy things.  Set goals, better ourselves, (maybe write a blog) and trust that one day God will bring your grandiose fantasies to fruition.

Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. – Colossians 3:2 (NIV)

 

 

Decisions Decisions

/ Roxie / 1 Comment

Here’s the situation: We make so many decisions a day without even thinking about it, because most of them seem insignificant.  But did you know that every choice you make and the habits you’re forming right now actually play a larger role in your future than you might realize?

If I had to identify with a TV character, it would unfortunately be one of the crazy ones, like Annie from Community or Leslie Knope from Parks & Rec.  They’re anal, organized and they love their binders!  Since I was engaged once, I’ve dabbled in a little wedding planning and I too had a binder!  It was ‘Martha Stewart’s Keepsake Wedding Planner’.  It had different tabs and dividers for dresses and flowers, and special pages to write out your guest list and plastic inserts to hold business cards, etc.  One of the pages was a checklist.  Martha gurl, you are speaking my language – I LOVE LISTS!  At the top, you wrote your wedding date and below was a list of everything you needed to have done 6 months before the wedding, 3 months before the wedding, 2 weeks, 1 week, the day before, the day of…you get the picture!

This backward design process is actually how I plan most things in my life now.  If I want to save a specific dollar amount by a certain date or if I’m leaving for a holiday in 2 weeks and need to get a bunch of stuff done before I go; I always look ahead to the goal and plan the steps to get there in reverse.  Doing things this way keeps you on track and saves you from forgetting anything or running around like a maniac at the last second!  I never used to be like this though.  Why would I plan for the future when it was so far away?

I YOLO’d Before YOLO Was Cool

The acronym ‘YOLO’ really only became a thing in 2011, but long before people were making poor decisions and passing them off as “you only live once”, I was making poor decisions and passing them off as “being in my 20s”.  I was raised in a Christian home and went to a Christian school, blah, blah, blah.  It was as boring as it sounds, so when I finally became an adult and could make my own decisions (whilst hiding those decisions from my parents because I still lived at home and they were scary!), I decided that partying was way more fun than church, so that’s what I did. 

When one of my best friends and I first met, we bonded quickly once we realized how much we had in common!  We had the same cultural background and were familiar with the same traditional foods.  We discovered our moms actually grew up in the same province, in towns 10 minutes apart.  We learned that we’d both been raised in Christian homes, but not just that, we were raised in Christian homes, but neither of us were living as Christians for the time being.  We were young, on the cusp of emerging from lengthy awkward stages and ready to paaaartaaaay!  We moved out of our parents houses and in together and from there we started to kick @$$, take names and break hearts!  Over the years we talked about how we knew we’d go back to church…eventually…but not quite yet, because we were having too much fun!

‘Eventually’ came when we all started to age out of the club and my friends were getting into serious relationships.  I figured that was a good time to get my life back on track so that I could meet that Christian man I’d always wanted, but knew I wouldn’t find at the bar.

That’ll Teach Ya!

Years after being back in the church but remaining single, I wondered if God hadn’t been withholding from me.  Perhaps if I hadn’t quit going to church…?  Perhaps if I didn’t party so much…?  Perhaps if I hadn’t done      (whatever)     , things would be different?  Instead, God must’ve been punishing me for my past; there was no other explanation for it! 

While other Christians know a loving and gracious God, I feel like I’ve always known “lesson God”.  Perhaps you’re familiar with Him too?  The God who lets you fall on your face to learn.  The God who will delay something you really want to teach you patience.  The one who will give you a physical ailment to show you that you shouldn’t judge others or to teach you humility.  I know these things can happen, but purposeful spite isn’t a characteristic of God, and as much as I’ve matured in my faith over the years, when things don’t work out the way I’d hoped, my default always goes back to wondering what God is punishing me for this time, or what lesson I’m supposed to learn now.  (I’m still a work in progress people, get off my back!)

I think it’s because of this, that I feel responsible for some of the delays in my life and now that I’m older, I really strive to make the best decisions for my future and not hold up the process any longer!  Let’s say that my 20s did, in fact, affect my 30s.  How is what I do today going to affect me a week from now, a year from now or even 35 years from now?!

Papa Don’t Preach

When I was a kid, my dad would go to the mall every Saturday morning as soon as it opened and head straight to the lottery kiosk to check his tickets and buy new ones.  This is the routine he kept as far back as I can remember.  He was also an avid “donor” to our local fundraising lotteries.  You know, the ones where a portion of the ticket goes to charity, but more importantly, you have the chance to win a brand new home or other prizes!  (Spoiler alert, we never won the lottery!)

Around 8 years before he died, he started showing signs of confusion.  I would go to my parents house for a visit and he would ask me a question and a few minutes later, ask the same question again.  I found it rather annoying because I just assumed he hadn’t been listening.  One summer he decided to do a cross Canada road trip to visit his family back home, a province he was very familiar with.  On this trip however, he got lost multiple times, followed another vehicle for about 6 hours in the wrong direction and I could swear someone told me he ended up on a private military base and got in trouble for it.  It was at a doctor’s appointment during these years that the words “early onset dementia” were first mentioned.

About 2.5 years before he died he was officially diagnosed with dementia.  Until that time my mom hadn’t shared any details with me about what had been happening at home; probably not to worry me.  I would eventually come to find out that my dad had been pulling garbage out of the garbage can in the middle of the night and flushing it down the toilet.  Or forgetting to take his diabetes meds throughout the week, then taking a week’s worth in a day.  His temper would flare and he’d slam doors or threaten to jump out of the moving vehicle if my mom wanted to drive.  He would pay bills twice or miss payments altogether and he would lose money; either actually physically losing cash or spending it and not remembering where.  Because of this loss of awareness, now when he went to buy lottery tickets, he would buy all the tickets or spend double the money he would’ve had he still had his wits about him.

I often think about this.  Even as the rest of his mind was failing, the habit of buying lottery tickets was so well ingrained, that it was that part of his routine that stayed in tact, and to the detriment of my parents finances.  It really makes me consider, or reconsider, any habits I may unknowingly be forming right now!  If I want to have the best future possible, what steps can I plan in reverse to achieve that?

Choose Wisely

We live in a YOLO culture, that has become addicted to instant gratification.  People act on every emotional whim and we encourage it with inane sayings like “follow your heart” and “live your truth”.  Depriving ourselves of anything or practicing self control is so contrary to the norm, that it can feel like the wrong choice!  Why would we deliberately subject ourselves to something that doesn’t make us immediately feel better?  Unfortunately, every decision we make today will affect our future in some way, we just don’t often think about that!  I know I never used to!

When I quit my job to go back to school, but continued to spend money like I was working, I didn’t think about the debt I was racking up!  How could I have known it would take me 8 years of tight budgets and hard work to pay off?  I never considered that while I was out “being in my 20s”, the Christian man I hoped to one day find, was probably already in church finding someone else.  Or that when I’d go back to church, my options would have greatly dwindled because I wasted all of that time!

The saying is true – you do only live once, so how do you want to live?  I want the next half of my life to be better than my first.  I don’t want to be 60 years old and winded after walking up a flight of stairs because I didn’t bother to get in shape when I was actually physically capable to do so.  I don’t want to carry a bunch of emotional baggage into my future because dealing with it made me too uncomfortable.  I don’t want to look like a piece of leather when I’m older because I enjoyed the sun too much when I was young!  (That’s shallow me talking.)  On top of all that, I’ve waited so long to find someone, that when I finally do, I want to give them the best years of my life, not make them deal with my dying decrepit years!

The past is in the past and we can’t do anything to change that.  The consequences of those actions might long be set in motion, but we can instantly redeem our future by considering our decisions today!  So think about where you are, where you want to be and how you plan to get there.  And for the love of all that is holy, make good choices!

make-good-choices

Happy Anniversary!

/ Roxie / 7 Comments

Here’s the situation: It’s the 1 year anniversary of The Situation Room!  (Well, Monday officially)

This isn’t a typical post, but I thought I’d write a little background and recap of the past year, since many of you are not familiar with how TSR came to be!

The story actually starts 4 years ago while recovering from foot surgery, when I decided to try my hand at blogging.  I wasn’t that familiar with blogs and I didn’t read other people’s either, I just knew that I had more opinions than a Facebook status could hold and as someone who enjoys writing, I thought it might be a good outlet!  I also had 7 weeks off of work on short term disability, so perhaps I needed an outlet to feel useful.

I nervously published my first blog, July 5, 2016.  At that time, I knew I had a guaranteed 5 readers.  My “fans” as I jokingly called them.  5 people who liked what I had to say, enjoyed my style of writing and would always encourage me to write more.  Each post would draw in a few new eyes and it seemed that when people actually read my writing, they really enjoyed it as well.  I had hoped to stay consistent with the posts, but most times when I sat down to work on one, I would hit a wall and wasn’t able to get my words to come together; probably a good thing since my words were much angrier back then!  From the time I started, to around February of 2019, I drafted 25 blogs, but only ever published 7.

Check Your Heart

John Crist made headlines last fall and I’m sure it was not in the way he would’ve wanted.  I’ve had the pleasure of seeing him 3x, meeting him twice and we’ve DM’d about his shows a couple of times.  I found him very friendly, down to earth and for being quite famous (in Christian circles), he wasn’t arrogant at all.  I’ve met ordinary guys who had less time of day for me than John did.  When I was invited for a meet and greet at my second show, I was actually really impressed with how accountable he seemed to keep himself!  Of course, these are just my experiences and my opinions and yours might differ in light of those headlines, but whatever you may say, I can say that John Crist 100% impacted my life for the better, as ridiculous as that seems/sounds/is.

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Keep Portland Weird

My cousin, her husband and I planned a road trip to Portland, Oregon, in October 2018 to see John perform for our first time.  Since we were driving 13+ hours to see him, my cousin and I were going to make it worth our while and naturally sprung for the VIP tickets.  Our VIP package included early access to the venue and merch table, a backstage session with John, a photo op and a backstage tour, which unbeknownst to us, included his tour bus.  That was odd.  Pretty sure we looked at each other and said “are we supposed to be in here?”.

As I watched John from our front row seats, something within me woke up.  It wasn’t because I was a fan or awestruck by his “celebrity”, it was these intense feelings of jealousy met with empowerment.  Here he was, unashamedly himself, and loved and accepted by thousands of people for things that I’m afraid of being rejected for.  Not only that, he and his opening acts were these young guys doing what they love and loving what they do and what was I doing with my life?!!  I like my job and I’m good at my job, but is it my passion?  And what IS my passion?  I had to be created for more than just being good at admin and essentially running out the clock with a routine life until I died!  I came home from that trip with an urgency for change and a desire to do something big(ger) with my life, but I had no idea what, or where to start or what I could possibly change!

YOLO?

4 months post John Crist show (a little over a year ago), I was still antsy to do something (anything!), but I have a mortgage and bills to pay, so I can’t be completely irrational and do a 180º, just because I’m bored.  For whatever reason, the idea of a new blog came to mind.  I could do it without disrupting my life too much, but this time I would make it more of a priority than before.  I even considered sowing into it by buying a domain name.  I felt kind of stupid though, I mean, the trend of blogging had passed and at that point I had maybe 15 consistent readers that I was aware of, so who would really care what a nobody like me had to say, even if I did have my own website?  The urgency I felt when I got home from Portland was still there though and I told myself, anyone who’s ever done anything, had to start somewhere!

I narrowed down a name, somewhat of a concept and I even signed up for a one-day ‘Intro to WordPress’ course to cover all of my bases.  Since I already had a blog, most of it was just review, but with the course perk being a 4:1 student to mentor ratio, I was able to monopolize one poor guy and he showed me how to upgrade, purchase my domain name and link everything together.  Without him, I would’ve never figured it out!

With my previous blog, I wanted to be as anonymous as I could, so I didn’t include any information about me or photos.  As a reader though, I think it’s important to know who is behind the writing.  It makes you feel more connected and it gives the words more value.  For example, if I were a stranger reading my own blog, I would want to see this girl who often talks about her dating struggles.  Does she struggle because she never does her hair or make up and maybe she wears Winnie the Pooh embroidered cardigans?  That girls opinion would be moot to me, but if I found out she was normal, I’d be more inclined to follow her journey and open to hearing what she had to say, because I could relate!

High Risk | High Reward

I published my first TSR blog April 20, 2019.  It was just as nerve racking as the first one 3 years earlier.  Would anyone read it?  How would it be perceived?  How would I be perceived?  I can be pretty black and white with my feelings, so would I just offend everyone and be hated?  If I talked about faith or Christianity, would I get mocked and my opinions dismissed because I’m some bible-thumping Jesus freak?  They say to write about what you know, but if I wrote about what I’ve known to be true in my life, would I just come across as some whiny girl who felt sorry for herself?  Would writing about being single, inevitably keep me single?  Did I really want to let people all up in my bidnez and be that vulnerable?

What if I fall?

Oh, but my darling, what if you fly?

– Erin Hanson

A lot of things changed for me in the years since starting my first blog.  The majority of my remaining single friends got married, while others started having babies and my friendships inevitably shifted due to both.  I bought a condo and lived alone for the first time ever and dating was a fruitless endeavor, so the hope of one day finding a man seemed (and still seems) impossible.  After being very alone for those 3 years, a part of me died.  It was the part that spent so much energy being concerned about what people thought and desperately wanting to be accepted, and the part that kept myself in a box that other people had put me in.  In the words of Jo Dee Messina – my give a damn was busted.  As uncomfortable as the idea was of putting myself out there, I figured, I can’t be any more alone and I can’t attract any less men, so what did I really have to lose?  I like who I am and I think I’m funny, plus I’m half way to senility so I can get away with saying more, so I’ll just write and be myself and you can take it or leave it!

Ok, I Know I Said Take It or Leave It, but Please Take It!

“Even if only 1 person got something out of it, then it was all worth it!”  That’s a nice sentiment and I’ve said it to myself before, but it’s kind of a lie!  I put a lot into each post, so I want them to affect more than just 1 person!  I spend upwards of 30 hours rambling out an idea and organizing my thoughts to make sense, then editing and re-editing countless times before I finally believe in one post enough to click “publish”.  It’s a lot of work for something that’s technically a hobby!  Not to mention the knots I get in my stomach each time I put something out there.  I’m baring a piece of my soul and it’s subject to be judged or criticized, or worse, not read at all.

Last month I really debated whether I should keep this up or just let it go, knowing that I tried.  When I started the blog a year ago, with my big dreams in hand, I really hoped that things in my life would start to shift and maybe, just maybe, this blog was the step of faith I needed to take to usher those dreams into reality.  Unfortunately, nothing’s changed and if I’m being honest, almost every time I work on a post I think to myself “what am I trying to say?“, “does anybody care?“, “why am I putting in all of this effort for nothing?“.  But I eventually get something to come together and so far it’s been well received.  So many times I’ve felt like I was going through something alone or thought that I was the only one who must feel this way, but the truth is, there’s always someone who understands.  If I have managed to make even 1 person feel less alone through my writing or like they have a comrade in this life, then somehow it actually does seem worth it!

Started From the Bottom, Now We’re Here

Here we are – 1 year later!  It was my goal to try and put something out every 2 to 3 weeks or at the very least, every month.  Goal accomplished.  20 blogs published!  My readers have slowly increased in number and I have a stats page, so I can see how far this blog has reached.  It’s pretty amazing!  (Don’t worry, when you read this, you remain anonymous – I don’t know who you are, I just see clicks and country stats.)  For a nobody like me, with only a little over 400 Facebook friends and 200 Instagram followers, this blog has been read in 25 different countries.  It doesn’t sound like many knowing there are 195 in the world, but when I look at which countries, it’s crazy.  Places like France, China, Australia, Pakistan, South Africa and India!  WOW – so cool!

I probably still only know (in person) who a handful of my consistent readers are, but for anyone else who has clicked on my links, taken the time to read my posts, like my posts or given me positive feedback, I appreciate you more than you could know!!  It’s you who keeps me coming back to share pieces of myself, even if you’re a stranger!  And thanks to anyone I’ve wrangled into being my photographer to help me with the Facebook/Instagram clickbait, because there’s only so much I can do with one hand and a PopSocket!

So, cheers to another year!  (…at least, because that’s how long I’m renewed for!)

Don’t let the fear of the time it will take to accomplish something stand in the way of your doing it.  The time will pass anyway, we might as well put that passing time to the best possible use.

– Earl Nightingale

Raise the Bar

/ Roxie / 1 Comment

Here’s the situation: I’m getting annoyed watching so many people settle for less than what they want or deserve!  Keep your standards high and let people rise up to your level, rather than bend down to theirs!

People are waiting longer and longer to get married or start a family.  The reasons range from things like wanting to establish a career first, traveling while they’re young and free, or waiting until they’re financially ready for a wedding and a baby.  I have a lot to say about this and not much of it is in support of waiting as long as people do, but while I could argue the pros of settling down younger, the fact that I wasn’t able to, makes me appreciate this shift in culture!  Where I would’ve once been considered a spinster, now I’m just an empowered woman!  It has become much more acceptable to be where I’m at in life, which hasn’t always been the case, especially not in church culture!

“Normal”

My mom comes from a family of 14 children, most of whom had 4 to 5 kids of their own, so to say I have a lot of cousins would be an understatement.  Growing up, I had a picture of life; you graduate, you meet someone and you get married.  That was normal.  It’s not a message that was pushed by my parents, but rather something subliminal I picked up on from hearing about my many cousins who did just that.  In fact, one of my cousins was also my best friend and she met someone in high school, graduated in June and married in October.  She was 18.  I was 16 and a half.  I assumed by the time I turned 18, I would follow the footsteps of all those cousins before me, but that didn’t happen.  By my own definition, I’m not normal!

Party Like It’s 1999

I vividly remember being 17 and wanting a boy to like me so badly, but they didn’t.  You read about how I was a late bloomer in The Pursuit of Perfection, so guys weren’t even interested in me until I was 19, already putting me a year behind schedule.  The only reason guys started to like me was thanks to their beer goggles, but I didn’t care, I was finally being noticed!  I had quit attending church in high school because it wasn’t “cool” and I wanted to fit in, so if fitting in at 19 meant going to the bar with my friends and a side effect was having drunk guys look my direction, I was perfectly ok with that!

From about 19 to 25 I spent every weekend partying with friends, or “just going dancing”, as I told my mom before I moved out at 22 so she wouldn’t know what I was really up to.  I could regale many a tale from those years – they were a blast!…but I knew the days were numbered and that I’d eventually end up back in church.  As much fun as I was having, I still just wanted to be “normal” and get married, but I also knew I would never marry a non-Christian.  You don’t exactly cross paths with too many Christians while partying, and if you do, they miiiiight not be as Christian as they say (or if they are, perhaps they shouldn’t be interested in you).

As my friends and I aged out of the bar scene, they met guys and settled down and there I was; able to attract men now, just not the kind I actually wanted.

Prodigal Son

When I’d finally had enough of living the same weekend year after year after year without any forward momentum, I headed back to church.  Were my intentions pure because I loved Jesus and wanted to get right with the Lord?  No.  Hardly.  I wanted to find that Christian man.  Little did I know that at 26 years old, I was long past my prime in the church world!  You see, Christians used to get married (extra) young!  A lot of them met someone in youth group or they attended bible college right out of high school, aka, bridal college, so if you made it past 23 unwed, 1) something must be wrong with you and 2) you missed your window of opportunity because all of the guys were already taken!  When I did have a couple of “Christians” interested in me, I couldn’t afford to turn them down!  And so, for many, many years, I lowered my standards and tried to settle.

Oh Honey, No

I can always rant about The Bachelor, but this season in particular has me wondering – are these women extra awful or am I finally aging out of this BS?  And Peter?  He might be the worst bachelor since Juan Pablo.  This season is terr·i·ble!!  Peter aside, watching these women makes me sad for our gender and how low our bar seems to be set!

Being a pilot, it would only be fitting that Peter takes a group date to “Flight School”.  For the sake of love, the girl who gets motion sickness allows herself to be spun about in a machine that simulates turbulence.  A real metaphor for love, amirite?!  (Bachelor fans will understand.)  After she’s unstrapped, she heads to the washroom, feeling nauseous.  Peter goes to check on her and brings her a bottle of water.  She can’t believe what a gentleman he is.  Seriously?!  A guy brings you a bottle of water when you don’t feel well and you swoon?

It’s not just young girls on The Bachelor either.  Let’s talk about Dirty John.  Debra Newell, a successful business woman, falls for a guy she meets online.  If you’re unfamiliar with the rest of this true story, do yourself a favor and go listen to the podcasts (or watch the Netflix show based on the podcast).  Without spoiling too much, John turns out to be a psycho con artist and somebody dies.  Who and how you can find out for yourself.  Point is, Debra first fell for Mr. Crazypants because when they went on dates he would ask her questions about herself.  That’s it?!  Are we really that desperate or starved to find a good man that that’s all it takes to fall for one?  A man who asks you questions?!  This does not reflect well for men or women!

I can’t fault these women without also faulting myself!  One day a bad boy I really liked and had been seeing off and on for years without ever actually being his girlfriend, got a fish tank.  I swooned.  “Omigosh, he’s taking care of living creatures!  He cares about something!”  Seriously Rox?  Yes, he cares about fish but not you, you dummy!  Or there’s the guy who was rude to me, my family, to strangers, he only had 1 friend, no vehicle, no furniture and owned 2 cats.  (Never trust a single guy who owns cats.)  The only reason I gave him a chance was because he was “Christian” (he wasn’t) and he liked me.  Sooooo, that’s all it took to win me over?  Unfortunately yes.  I got engaged to that guy!  (To my credit, I did later break off that engagement!)

So why do we do that?!  Why do we allow ourselves to settle when we know we deserve better?

Tick Tock, It’s Freak Out O’Clock

I can’t speak for you, but if you’re a woman over a certain age (particularly a Christian woman and maybe even some men too), you’ve probably sensed the judgment of others or felt the pressure to find someone.  Maybe it’s entirely pressure you’ve put on yourself because the timeline you planned has passed or the ticking of your biological clock is a countdown for panic to set in.  I imagine I’m not the only one whose allowed fear or frustration to lead me into relationships with people I never pictured for my life.  You know, like the fear that if [this] person wasn’t interested in you, maybe nobody else would be?  Or if you upheld your standards and convictions, maybe nobody would ever meet them or you’d be left without any options and stay single for a really long time, possibly forever.  There comes a moment when you figure, you better take what you can get!

plenty-of-fish

And just because I’m a Christian doesn’t mean I don’t get super pissed off at God from time to time too.  He claims that He’ll give me the desires of my heart, but that hasn’t happened and I’m supposed to trust His timing, yet He’s sure not in any hurry!  Doesn’t He realize how old I’m getting?  In fact, this frustration perpetuates a cycle for me.  I get broken up with and after the crying has subsided, I decide that I’m going to keep my standards up and trust God for my future relationship.  After all, He’s God and must have someone in mind for me, so I’ll hold out for that, since everything I’m trying hasn’t worked.  After a couple of years of random dates with no success, my patience wears thin and I start to lower my standards again because keeping them up proves to be a lost cause.  The thing I’ve learned about myself, is that once I’ve allowed someone in my heart, even a little bit, I will start to like them, whether they’re the kind of person I’ve been holding out for or not.  I am a settler.  (Hello!…engaged to the rude cat guy!)  Unfortunately (and fortunately!), as many times as I’ve tried to settle, something deep within me has never allowed it…

Settle Down Now

Maybe recognizing my cycle was the first step to not being caught up in it again.  Unfortunately, I’ve known too many girls over the years who have successfully settled.  The wrong guy was interested in them now and they didn’t want to wait for the right one later.  At the time I was really jealous of these girls, because they seemingly got the dream, but looking at it now, when you have to lose who you are in order to get that, I don’t think it’s much of a dream anymore.  If I have to compromise my beliefs for the sake of a man, no thanks.  I’ll continue to hold out for the one I won’t have to do that for!  I finally like myself enough to keep my standards up and I’ve made it this late in life single, I don’t know why I would settle now!

Maniacal Laugh

There was a time when I was super bitter about being single and I would think – one day I’ll show you!  I’ll show all of you!  Everyone who told me I was too picky and everyone who told me to lower my standards.  I’ll get the best man out of anyone and prove that I knew what I was doing all along and that this is what you wait for!  …  But I can’t prove that yet.  And maybe I’ll never be able to.  So, how can I tell you to value yourself, hang on to what’s important to you and never settle because it will all be worth it one day, when I don’t have the success story to back it up?

Here’s what I do know though.  The girls who settled… The girl who moved in with her boyfriend in hopes that it would bring him closer to marrying her.  She’s still living with him all these years later, but not married yet.  The girl who told me she wanted a Christian but said they were too hard to find so she settled for “a decent guy”.  She’s not happy.  In fact, she might be the most unhappy person I know.  Or the girl who wanted a man to fill a void and give her value.  She got a man, but he didn’t fill that void or give her value so a man didn’t solve the problem.  So yes, I may be single.  I may not have the”normal” life I wanted and I may still be hoping that one day I can prove to myself that my wait hasn’t been in vain, but I can honestly say, I am more content with my life right now having never settled than I would be had I successfully done so!

Remember, it’s easier to set your standards higher before you meet someone, than trying to raise them after the fact.

Filtered

/ Roxie

Here’s the situation: I feel like we try to win the approval of others by showing them a filtered version of ourselves, yet we want the real version of them.  So why do we think they wouldn’t want the same thing from us?

I have no idea how to use Snapchat the way it’s intended.  I think that officially makes me old.  I mean, I know how to look at the filters and I think I even know how to send a snap, but when it comes to anything else, I’m lost.  I’m lost and frankly, I don’t actually care.

I downloaded the app a few years ago after a Christmas party when a coworker was showing me the different filters.  I thought it was the funniest thing, but I’ve never actually used it like one should and I’ve considered getting rid of it, but… the filters… they’re just too good!  Does anybody else wish they naturally looked like their Snapchat self too?  I’m sorry, but I am bea•u•ti•ful with Snapchat!  My skin is flawless and taut and glows.  My eyes are big and sparkly.  My hair is it’s blondest blonde.  I am a freaking hottie when filtered!  Unfortunately, when I accidentally flip back to the normal camera lens, the reflection catches me off guard like, Buzz, your girlfriend.  Woof.

buzz

I Dunno If I Should Go With XX Pro or Valencia.  I Wanna Look Tanned.

As much as I wish I looked like my Snapchat self, I try not to post photos using it that often.  Sure, you’ll find the occasional one where the addition of hipster glasses and freckles were too cute not to use, but even the more natural filters without a prop are still a total misrepresentation of what I actually look like!

Now, before I start running my mouth about being filtered, maybe I should clarify some things.  An Instagram “filter”, though technically a filter, really only changes the lighting/brightness, etc., so I am not opposed to using them to improve the photo or the way you look in the photo (while completely ignoring what everyone else looks like).  It’s when you use filters or apps to tweak your actual appearance, that I start to have a problem, especially if you’re trying to pass it off like that’s really you!  If I know you in real life and have seen your forehead wrinkles and deep pores, but all of your photos have this smooth, softened, porcelain skin … gurl please!  (And/or boy please! I know some of you guys do it too!)  Trust me, I get it, I prefer to see myself filtered as well, but it’s all getting to be a little too fake when everyone claims to want authenticity.

E-I-E-I-O

Ever heard the saying “if the barn needs painting – paint the barn”?  Well, this barn requires a fresh coat every morning.  I love when people ask me “why do you get up so early?” or “how come it takes you so long to get ready?”.  Uhhhh, because this, (imagine me pointing to my face and drawing a circle around it with my finger), takes time!  I wear a full face of make up 7 days a week and I constantly chase my own version of perfection*, so I should be the last to have anything to say about how fake we’ve become, but in spite of my own desire to be considered beautiful by today’s standards, I can also see how today’s standards of beauty have become very one dimensional.

* Read about it in The Pursuit of Perfection

Stepford Wives

I don’t know what your Search & Explore feed looks like on Instagram (that’s the page with the magnifying glass icon, in case you didn’t know it had a name), but mine is mainly food, make up, fitness people, Bachelor/ette cast members and for some strange reason, a lot of Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir photos.  I don’t know why – I don’t search or follow either of them!  (Don’t get me wrong, I do love them!)  Dispersed throughout these photos are usually ones of pretty girls in really cute outfits.  Sometimes they’re those same fitness people showing off their style outside of the gym and sometimes it’s some random #fashionblogger or verified “influencer” I don’t know but likely has ties to the Bachelor world.  I don’t fully understand the algorithm, but because these are the photos I see, I’ve noticed that most of these girls are completely interchangeable!  They’re all stick thin (yet claim to eat tacos all the time), have super long hair, usually platinum blonde with beautiful waves, they have full eyelashes and they all wear the exact same outfits; an oversize knit sweater tucked into their faded blue skinny jeans which are cut just above their ankle boots or a t-shirt with another shirt tied around their waist.  If you’ve ever seen them, you can easily picture them.

I’m a middle aged women being infiltrated with these images and when I see them, I think – awww man, I need to lose 30 lbs, buy a new wardrobe and get some work done in order to be beautiful.  Imagine the message for someone half my age and twice as impressionable.  Is it really any wonder that “pretty” is all starting to look the same?  I mean, if this is the mainstream image and what we identify as beautiful, we will likely pattern ourselves after it.  And to what extent are we willing to go?

I saw a TV special once about Asians who want to look more ‘American’ and take extreme measures to do so.  For instance, getting plastic surgery in order to create a creased eyelid or even worse, “stature lengthening”!  Heard of it?  Brace yourself.  Your tibia and fibula are broken and a lengthening rod is inserted into the cartilage which gradually pulls the bones apart.  The body’s natural healing response is to grow new bone to close the gap, potentially giving you an extra 2-3″ of height over a 5 month stretching/healing period.  Are you cringing yet?!

It’s really unfortunate that as we chase worldly beauty to gain acceptance, we lose the beauty of our individuality and uniqueness.

You’re a Fake and a Phony and I Wish I’d Never Laid Eyes on You

I’m curious to know if men realize that the majority of girls they see and find attractive, are probably not real.  Heck, I’m a girl and up until a year ago, I didn’t even realize that most of what I saw wasn’t real!  If I saw a girl with super long hair, I assumed it was hers, because back when I had super long hair, I grew it myself!   I had NO idea that most of the girls you see with hair anywhere past the middle of their backs were BUYING it!  I would ask girls with thick and full eyelashes what mascara they used so that I could get those same lashes, only to find out they were BUYING eyelash extensions.  So many beautiful features women have are purchased!  Perfect eyebrows → microbladed.  Pouty lips → injected.  Teeth → whitened.  Breasts → implants.  Tan → sprayed.  Nails → fake.  Fake, fake, fake.  Bought, bought, bought.

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Here I am, 16 years ago, with my very own, naturally grown, super long hair.  Oh, and Mr. Big from Sex and the City.  NBD.

Lately culture is spreading the gospel of body positivity and being yourself, loving yourself and having a healthy self esteem, which is great!  However, it seems like the majority of women are continuing to purchase all of these things!  It’s a bit of a confusing message isn’t it?  Like, you’re posting a #nomakeupselfie with some inspirational caption to empower other women about their natural beauty, but you have tattooed eyebrows, lash extensions and Botox – of course you’re confident without make up!  And let me stress – no hate on you!  I’ve paid for my own things in order to feel beautiful and will continue to do so also!  I’m not a martyr!

I’m Sexy and I Nose It

We all have that one thing (or twenty) that we dislike about ourselves.  At nearly 41, I can look in the mirror and think that I’m an attractive girl, more so than I could any year prior, which is weird since I’m just getting older, wrinklier and continuously gaining that middle age spread.  I see the full package of awesomeness that I am, but my focus?  Straight to my nose.  I’ve hated it EVERY DAY since grade 7.  I think it started the day a teacher made us trace our side profiles using the shadow from an overhead projector, then cut them out and post them around our classroom.  Thank you for that, Mrs. McCullough…

Most of the time I forget that this is the nose attached my face, but as soon as I catch a glimpse of it in the mirror or see it in a photo, I am reminded that as much as I try to fine tune the rest of me, I will always have this.  I’ve often wondered if it wasn’t the thing that kept me single too.  When I finally saved enough money to buy my condo, I seriously considered putting that money towards rhinoplasty instead.  I weighed my options: do I buy a condo and have a big nose or do I buy a small(er) nose and be homeless?  Well, I wouldn’t be homeless.  I could’ve lived with my mom, but if I was worried that my nose was keeping me single, I think moving home to my mommy at 36 would’ve done a pretty good job of that instead!

As much as I hate the central focal point of my face, I think I’m starting to accept that it’s part of what makes me me.  Maybe it even makes me stand out, good or bad.  No press is bad press, right?  All of those girls whose looks are interchangeable – they’re beautiful, but there’s really nothing memorable about them.  Do you know who is memorable though?  Barbara Streisand.  Lea Michele.  Sarah Jessica Parker.  Chelsea Peretti.  Lady Gaga.  The girls without the button noses.

Shake What Your Mama Gave Ya

Conventional beauty is one-note and can be achieved by anyone with enough money or enough apps.  I know I’ll never look like those stick thin, taco eating “influencers” of Instagram, but I think if you really want to be influential, you need to be yourself!  And if yourself requires a little bit of barn painting, that’s ok.  More people can identify with a painted barn that’s real, than a fake or filtered one!  People want the real you and will admire the real you for – you got it – your realness!  We all fall prey to the comparison trap, but don’t do the world a disservice by being anything less than the individual beauty you were created to be.  The world needs you, JUST AS YOU ARE.

Your need for acceptance can make you invisible in this world.  Don’t let anything stand in the way of the light that shines through this form.  Risk being seen in all of your glory.

– Jim Carrey

The Unknown

/ Roxie / Leave a comment

Here’s the situation: I find the uncertainty of my future as a single, exciting and terrifying at the same time.  I both look forward to it and dread it equally.  What a fun little dichotomy!

At the start of each new year, I take inventory.  A look back on the previous year to see what of my written goals I have accomplished, in 5 separate categories: personal, relational, financial, spiritual and miracle.  Though the success rate is usually 60%, I’m still left feeling more discouraged than encouraged.  I had 365 days to accomplish big things, but what in my life looks any different, except my collagen and elastin continuing to succumb to age?  There were 365 days left wide open for miracles to happen.  But again, they didn’t.  And now, as I write out new goals, I have to muster up the faith to believe that even though every year prior seems to prove that miracles don’t happen, at least not for me, maybe 2020 will be the year to change everything?  And so, I enter another 365 days 361 days of the unknown.

Set the Thermostat to Tropical

My favorite thing about being an adult is the moment you realize you are an adult and you are in charge.  For me it was a little thing like – hey, I don’t have to eat the yellow Skittles!  I hate lemon flavored candy and I can throw them out if I want, I’m a grown @$$ woman!  Or after my first roommate and I moved out of our parents houses so many years ago, we realized that we are in control of the thermostat!  When I lived at home, my parents turned the heat down for night.  Why?!  I hate waking up in a cold house!  It makes it 10x harder to get out bed and leave the warmth of my duvet behind.  Every parent paying to heat a house must have a default “put on a sweater” setting built in to their DNA.  Well, no I will not!  I’m an adult now, I want to be comfortable in my own home.  If I have to pay a little bit more each month so that I can stay warm, I will!  I’d rather wear less clothes around the house than have to pile on the layers while INSIDE!  I’m not used to being consistently cold anymore and after spending 3 days at my cousin and her warm-blooded husband’s house at Christmas, my body temperature slowly dropped to where I think my brain function began to shut down and I started talking crazy.  I said to her, “I don’t know if I want to get married anymore.  I don’t want to give up my thermostat!”  I even went so far as thinking that those of us who have stayed single this late in life might actually be the lucky ones!  (Who am I when I get cold?!)

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I first saw the picture above over 10 years ago.  It’s from a book titled Porn For Women, in which, photos of men doing household chores are paired with captions catered to what appeals to women.  If I die and someone goes through my Google search history, I was only looking to find this image!!

Serious as a Heart Attack

I’m an only child, raised by parents who stayed married until death did they part.  Romantic right?  Nope.  It became two people who coexisted for the better part of their lives.  My mom, Christian of all Christian’s, is almost too saved, so divorce was not an option.  This is a tenacity that few possess in relationships anymore and though there are legitimate, biblically acceptable reasons to get divorced, I was raised with the mindset that you did not do it.  Because divorce wasn’t an option, and as much as I can help it, I would still prefer it not to be in the future, I take relationships seriously.  I date with intent and from the moment I have even an ounce of interest in you, I’m paying attention.  Attention to the things you say, the things you do, how you act or react, your character, if I can hear you breathe or chew…  If things were to get serious, marriage is for life and life is a long time to spend with someone!

I’m Like a Vault Baby, Locked Down

When I was in my 20’s, watching all my friends find love and get married, I thought – as soon as I get married, the hard part will be over.  No more awkward first dates, no more wasting your time getting to know someone only to have them dump you.  NO MORE HEARTBREAK!  In my mind, once I was married, a man wouldn’t go anywhere and that had always been the problem; they were free to leave, so they did.  Therefore, if I could just lock one in, I’d never get hurt again!  [And all the married people laughed and rolled their eyes.]  Yes, yes, I know…  I’ve learned that a ring and some vows are no guarantee that you won’t ever be hurt again.  Not only that, but I’ve come to realize that getting hurt or heartbroken is actually a whole lot easier when you’re not locked in with someone!  And, it doesn’t matter how much you’ve vetted someone beforehand, you have no idea what the future holds!

Where Are They Now?

Ever take to Google to see what your favorite teen idols look like now or find out what they’re up to?  Some have maintained their careers and still look good.  Some, not so much and some you’d probably pass in the street and pay no mind because they look so normal.  It’s interesting to see how people change over the years, even the people you know.

Guys I’ve had crushes on in the past who were sooooo dreamy, I’ll see now and think, meh – they look like an average guy in their 40’s, because most of the time, they are an average guy in their 40’s!  Or there are the girls my age who I compare myself to and wonder if I’m holding up better or worse than.  And if I do think it’s better, I question if my self perception is totally warped.  Looks aside, there are people who used to be full of joy and have a lust for life, but they’ve become hardened and cynical.  Or those you figured would amount to nothing, but went on to do great things.  I’m constantly trying to improve who I am – how come some people share that drive, while others give up?

Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react to it.

You Can Lead a Horse to Water

Do you know what scares me now about potentially meeting someone?  Realizing that when you get married, you have no idea how your spouse might grow or change over time.  I’ve talked with numerous married people over the years and none of them could’ve predicted their future would turn out the way it has.  Some of them, surprised it is better, but some of them, trapped and unhappy because it’s much much worse.  There are silly things like the phases of bad fashion and awful trends we all go through and might have to put up with in someone else, but the serious stuff…the unknown…

You could marry someone who matches your energy and exercises and meal preps with you, but develops an illness that robs them, and you, of those things you did together.  You might have been drawn to someone spontaneous or a social butterfly, but they lose their adventurous spirit and become a hermit or depressed.  What about the well put together spouse you were so attracted to who lets themselves go or the spouse who vows to be faithful and breaks their promise?  What if you marry a dog guy and he turns into a cat guy?!  (Definite grounds for divorce.)  What happens when the going gets tough and the tough abandon their beliefs and turn their back on the faith you once kept at the center of your relationship?

My dream has always been to get married.  I’ve made a point of not settling, yet even if I met the person of my dreams or my “soulmate” (PS, soulmates don’t exist), people are always evolving.  I can’t control that person or how they feel or what they do.  I can’t predict the future.  The idea of finally finding what I want, only to later be unhappy or feel trapped…it’s a paralyzing thought!  I don’t want to regret my decisions.  I don’t want to be jealous of people living my old life.  I don’t want my answered prayer to become my next prayer request.

Look Into My Crystal Ball

If you had the choice to find out what was going to happen in your future, would you want to know, or not?

I don’t really like surprises.  I think it’s because I don’t like being unprepared.  I want to know what I’m getting into, in advance, so that if I need to, I’ll pack the right stuff or wear the appropriate clothes or at least have time to wrap my head around what is going to happen.  You might call me a control freak, but I just like details!  Mainly, I don’t like to go into things blindly, because I don’t want to end up looking like a fool.

In spite of my dislike of surprises, aka, my fear of the unknown, if given the choice, I don’t think I’d want to know my future.  I think it might be too overwhelming or too disappointing and if I knew what was going to happen, I wouldn’t need faith and I’d most certainly quit making and pursuing goals, especially if I knew it was all for naught.  The fun, as much as it isn’t sometimes, is in the anticipation.  The thrill of the chase.  So you know what?  Lets put on a brave face as we walk into an unknown 2020.  Lets hope that what we’re doing now will get us the results we want later and if we look like a fool, well then, I guess we look like a fool!

And cheers to us old singles who haven’t found ourselves trapped in an unhappy marriage yet.  …and hopefully not ever!  We just might be the lucky ones!  (And my brain has thawed, so that’s my sanity talking!)

2020