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Posts Tagged ‘people’

Why is it that someone saying, “He’s a nice guy” is supposed to sweep me off my feet as if they’re saying he’s some kind of Brad Pitt or Dragon Slayer or Winner of this year’s Nobel Peace Prize? Awesome. I like nice people. I encourage that shit. But if I’m not interested in him, it’s not because I’m not looking for a nice guy. It’s just because I’m not bloody interested in this person. If everyone was attracted to everyone, it would be a hell of a lot more confusing finding which one would make you happy. Give him a chance? Okay, fine. We’ll hang out. But don’t expect me to fall weak at the knees or bat my eyelashes like a school girl to everything you say. I am a guarded person. No one has ever been able to get to me easily. Sometimes this feels super annoying even to me because I’d like to be more vulnerable, but it feels like it isn’t even part of my DNA. I protect myself from experiencing too much of that kind of heartache. That doesn’t mean I don’t ever let anyone in, but basically you’re pretty damn special if I’m considering being more than your friend.

I’m still at the stage where I think I have a good idea of what I’m looking for, but at the same time I’m keeping my eyes and ears peeled because there is only so much I know about people, and people tend to surprise me. I like that about people. I like not knowing what to expect of a person. I don’t consider myself having a type because I haven’t dated enough to really have a type. I’m basically just looking for my best friend. And whoever that kind of person is, I’ll enjoy him for who he is.

So sure, bring on the nice guys. But this isn’t the “saving grace” line that will make me sold. Good luck, nice guys. You’ll find your woman someday.

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Life is a string of piñatas. Sometimes there’s candy, sometimes there’s mice, and sometimes there’s cow dung.

This past semester was one of the hardest semesters of my life, both mentally (class load) and emotionally. Past issues that I thought were healed were only scabbed over, and all of it bled into my eyes, my anger, and my self-esteem. I was crying about something at least every other week. I took on two writing classes with two literature classes, all of which involved their own amounts of reading and writing, while tacking on two other classes and an assistant editor position on my school’s literary journal. I felt like I was half-assing not only my homework, but my relationships with my friends. I pulled three all-nighters in a row because I wanted to be there for them.

But the truth is I can’t be there for everyone. I can’t make it to every party, every concert, every bonfire because I really like sleep. I fall more than I catch myself, I don’t give myself enough “me” time, and when my time of the month comes, I’m going to be a bitch because being a woman can be a pain in the ass.

There will never be enough time in a day. I may spend the rest of my life trying to figure out how to better prioritize the things I want to do with the things I need to do and still not find a good balance.

But this is not a pity party. I want to remind you that if you feel like the semester is never going to end, if you hate your job, if you are sick of putting on a smile to people you don’t even like, hang in there.

You will probably meet a lot of fake people in your life. You may find the people who know exactly what to say to get you to do something, you may drown in the bills that pack like dirt in your mailbox, you may find yourself crying at night because your day was just plain crappy. Don’t be fooled thinking the person you pass by in the hallway, the cashier taking your order, or the person surrounded by friends at the coffee shop are all flying high. Cute clothes and a smile are only a show sometimes. There are a lot of good liars in this world.

But if there is a down, there’s an up. I passed my classes, I had a memorable Christmas break, and I worked out my financial problems just in time to take on another round of classes. I can’t go shopping for a while, but I can pay for groceries. Sometimes you just need to pick yourself up enough to get through one more day.

But that’s life. No one skirts their way around all their problems. You can dodge some, but you can’t dodge everything. So if you need to cry, find the Kleenex box and fill the trash can. If you need to vent, grab someone you trust and spew away. Make a pot of coffee and finish that stupid project, take a walk so you don’t destroy public property, and find something that makes you laugh so that, for just a moment, you can remember what it’s like to be stress-free.

It’s going to suck sometimes. You’re going to want to go home when you can’t, but hang tight. You’re going to want to give up, but hold on. “There may be pain in the night, but joy comes in the morning.” 

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Across the room from me, there are 36 pink, heart-shaped post-its pressed against the wall, though some curl at the edges like crippling flowers. These little notes are my room’s version of a photo album. For some people, pictures are some of the most important memories because they are able freeze a moment onto a sheet so they can relive it in their minds later.

Scribbled onto these post-its on the wall are quotes my roommates and I have said to each other that we’ve found humorous. This kind of memory is able to capture a personality. Whether it’s an opinion about something or someone, a whitty remark, a miscommunication or ignorance about something that makes us laugh is a way for us to remember each other and smile.

Memory can sometimes feel like a curse, but to remember things like your adventures into new places, your failures that became lessons, your loved ones whose bodies now shrink in boxes underneath marble nametags is a gift.

Memories become pillows and chocolate on the days you wish life wasn’t such a pain in the ass. Those moments in those pictures will never be lived again, or at least not in the same way; just as those moments on our post-its will never be relived except in our minds.

So when opportunities arise, take the chance to make some memories that you’ll want to remember. I’m almost 22, and already I have done and seen so much that it excites me to no end to think that this is only the beginning. Fear and worry are your enemies. They will do nothing for you, so don’t welcome them. Try new things, go to new places before you tire out and don’t have the energy to go anymore. Already I feel more tired than I felt even a year ago.

As addicting as Facebook is, it’s not going to do much for you. Of all the things you post on Pinterest, how many are you actually going to do/make/look at again? Trust me, I have these problems too. But remember how precious time is. Take your lazy day when you need it, follow the rules so you don’t get fired, but there is so much life in the trees just outside your door, and we have a tendency to use that time to sprawl on the couch and watch a second movie we’ve already seen. Even in your priorities, there’s life and excitement that you haven’t noticed. Never lose your sense of adventure, of wonder, of a love for life, for people, and for God. Let your mind be as free as that of a child.

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I love being held.

When one hears this, they probably assume being held in the arms of another person. Don’t get me wrong, that is one of the best kinds of being held, but that’s not all I’m talking about.

Being held is being wrapped in a blanket. Wearing a comfy sweatshirt. Walking with the wind. Sitting in the sun or by the warmth of a fireplace. Snuggling into the corner of a couch, a beanbag chair, a recliner, a lawn chair. Curling up under the covers before going to bed. The bars that pull over you before a roller coaster takes off. It’s the hammock in the backyard that you fall asleep in while reading a book. I can be wrapped up in the story of a book and feel held as much as if I were in a blanket.

Being held by a person doesn’t mean just a boyfriend or husband either. It’s the linked arm of your best friend as you walk to class. It’s a hug from your sister, mother, grandpa, cousin. It’s being picked up off the ground when you least expect it, or maybe when you do expect it. It’s a kiss from a dog as it jumps to give you a hug.

To be held. To be wrapped up in something that makes you feel safe, warm, secure, loved.

Today I wrap myself in scripture. Promises still mean something to me, even though people these days don’t hold true to them like they used to. Now documentation and signatures are involved. Trust is fading because we don’t give people a reason to trust us. But above anything or anyone else, I feel safe and loved in scripture. Things will be taken from me, things will break. People will leave me, and people will let me down.

It is finally getting through to my head that I need help. We live in a world that tells us to strive for self-sufficiency, but it will always end in exhaustion. God purposefully left a space inside us that only belongs to Him, but He is only allowed access to that space when we give Him permission. I think it’s interesting that the Creator wants permission. Do you make a doll, and then ask the doll if you can play with it? No, you just play with it.

There is nothing stopping God from doing whatever He wants with us, except that He does not desire to control us. If I had a daughter, I could tell her to do whatever I want, and she would do it. She may not be happy about it, but she would have to do it. But real love does not come from being controlled. You would be making robots that are taught to say, “I love you” instead of raising someone who tells you s/he loves you just because s/he means it and s/he wants you to know.

God can say “I love you,” and I can choose not to respond. But I do because I can’t help but wrap myself in everything I know about Him. He is the only one that truly makes me feel safe.

Natalie Grant sings: “The promise was when everything fell, we’d be held.” I hope it’ll one day bring as much comfort to you as it does to me.

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I’ve always had people ask me who my favorite singer is, what my favorite song is. But I don’t pay attention to the singer. They don’t necessarily matter to me. I look at what they sing about, what story or message they are giving. I am not interested in someone singing about getting high up in the club and getting all the girls. I like the songs that sing about holding on, thanking God, and being grateful through the hard times. I like the songs that sing about real love, taking chances, taking time to live life and dancing because you can. I like songs that sing about the brave men and women fighting for our protection, knowing they could die any day and sacrificing time away from their family.

To sum it up, I love songs that sing about the things I value. I value God, family, friends, music, love, happiness, living off the land, animals, not letting money change me into something prideful and greedy. I am here to love people, to give them strength when others tear them down, to remind people of their own priorities and values.

What is it that you value? Are they material things that can be replaced? Are they similar to your priorities?

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You know what’s annoying? The person that says, “I wanna do this, but I don’t wanna be the only one…”

Sadly, sometimes that person is still me, though I’m trying to get out of that way of thinking.

Why are we afraid to stand out? Even as we make a fool of ourselves in front of our friends, for some reason we care what strangers think. I think we let ourselves miss out on so much crazy random happenstances just because we don’t want to be seen by someone else. But ever think that the reason you do some of those things is a reason people love you? Never be afraid to be yourself, even if others who don’t know you happen to see. Even if you do know the people, let them see you for who you really are. No one gets to be who you are, so why hide the you that is unique and fun and crazy?

Now of course, I have friends who have wild imaginations, so don’t take my words out of context as if I’m making it okay for you to do something bad. Just don’t stop yourself from screaming out the hotel window, “Good Morning America!” or breaking out the dance to the song “Gangnam Style” when you hear it in a random place. Do what you would do if it was just you and your friend hanging out. You don’t need to be mature all the time, or you will just become stiff. 

Don’t feel that you need to wait till someone else is being weird with you.

All in all, just enjoy being you, no matter what age.

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I learned today that Midwest people are more passive-aggressive. We are nice, but it takes A LOT to get us to open up. Vulnerability has become something we are almost ashamed of.

In high school, there were 3 ways in which you could approach vulnerability. You could either blab it to the world about how much of a heartache it was to not see your boyfriend for two days, you could find one person whom you could actually trust to not say anything, or you kept it to yourself for reasons of your own.

I was one of the people that kept things to myself. There were A LOT of blabber mouths around my school, and if you told the wrong person, you can bet everyone would know about it, even though they wouldn’t talk about it. I am also from a small school, so everyone knew you, and you even had kids younger than you giving you snobby looks. For me, my problem wasn’t necessarily that I didn’t have anyone to talk to, because I actually had two best friends whom I know without a doubt wouldn’t tell a soul if I asked them to keep it quiet, but more the fact that I didn’t want anyone to know I was in pain about something.

There are people all over the world who are going through more problems than we are. I know that, you know that. Yet there are still the people who whine and bitch and act like they have the worst life imaginable, and it makes you want to punch them in the face for their stupidity. We all have many things to be grateful for, even in times of sorrow. A lot of the people I knew who would complain were also doing it for attention, which ticked me off even more.

I didn’t want to express anything on the downside because I always reminded myself that there were people who were going through worse, and I just needed to toughen this out and stop whining to myself.

If you were someone like me, yes there are people in the world who are having a worse day than you, but don’t let that stop you from talking to someone. There is a difference between proclaiming your pain to the world to get sympathy from others and telling someone your pain so you can figure a way out of it. I kept so much in because I didn’t want people thinking I was a wimp, and that has led to present grudges and memories that are hard for me to let go.

Find someone whom you trust and open up to them. Let someone else know you so they can help you figure out why you do some of the things you do, why you feel the way you feel, maybe even help bring light to things even you haven’t noticed and bring peace to problems you can’t solve on your own. You aren’t superman, so don’t try to do this on your own. People need people, even if you are someone who would rather be alone.

Just because you’re problems may not be the life or death of you, doesn’t mean they aren’t important. Just be careful how you express yourself. Be self-AWARE, not self-ABSORBED; and remind yourself that things will get better and that this is just a block in the road that you can get past with some encouragement. Counseling is nothing to be ashamed of, and is something I actually think everyone should do a couple sessions of.

We think that brokenness is something to be frowned upon and must be kept hidden…but when you think about it, the kingdom of heaven was BUILT for the broken, a place where the broken come together, and a place where the broken are given a new life, new start, a new filling that can’t be found anywhere else.

Your vulnerabilities make you beautiful. They are not something to be ashamed of, but rather something to embrace, to learn from, to use through your life. Live wisely.

 

If this interests you, listen to Brene Brown on her TED TALK about Vulnerability. It is great!

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