Being Raw

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I like for people to see me as
strong and confident, a blonde-haired Eleanor Roosevelt. And while this may
come as quite a shock to some of you, I don’t always feel that way. Sometimes I
do and on those days I feel like I could take on the world, but more frequently
are the days when I get up and have no idea what to wear, and no energy to
smile at the people who won’t smile back. And I have decided that it’s time we all
stop pretending that we have it all together.   For so many of us, the most
precious parts of ourselves are buried deep beneath a façade. Every inch of us
itches to express all the things that are so carefully hidden, locked away in
the depths of our souls. We find ways to release those parts; maybe when we are
drunk, or through an annual emotional breakdown, or binging until the wee hours
of the morning. But what would it mean for us to welcome every sad, fearful,
weird part of ourselves. What if it didn’t take an overdose, or a panic attack,
or a suicidal thought to start listening to our hearts. Somewhere along the
line, we have forgotten how to be raw. We have forgotten how to deeply connect
to each other, ourselves, our God. We have created this world where it is not
okay to be completely human and thus have denied the deepest parts of ourselves
in order to fit into it.    This past January, almost the entire
U.S. had the flu. Some had the achy, coughy, fevery flu and others had the
nasty stomach flu. In both cases, I kept coming across people who claimed they
had “food poisoning” or “seasonal allergies”. So that got me wondering why it
is sometimes so hard for us to admit when we are sick. Not only that, but there
are so many things that are so hard for us to come to terms with; For instance,
getting older. We spend so much time, energy, and money on creams and dyes and
laser treatments to pretend that things aren’t sagging or wrinkling or falling
out. And the truth is that I also don’t want
anything to sag and I don’t want to admit that I am sick or weak. I am afraid
of what people will think.    That’s the underlying fear, right? What will people
think of me? Will I be rejected if I am a real, vulnerable person? Is there a
place for me in this world if I don’t have abs, get the stomach virus, don’t
whiten my teeth, and can’t afford highlights?    And so I leave you with this. You don’t have to create your place in this world, your deepest self perfectly fills the place that you were created for. So welcome that deepest self with open arms. After all, Jesus already has.

Thankful and a Mess.

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My most vulnerable posts get the most social media attention by far, as do my writings. As humans we are drawn to humanity and in the same breath struggle to accept it. It’s the contradictions in life that keep us whole and balanced. But I’m not sure yet if that is widespread knowledge.

It still seems like a foreign concept that someone could be miserable and yet not on the edge of a mental breakdown. Or that someone could be joyful and yet drowning in sorrow. Or even still, that someone could be defeated yet motivated. But we navigate those waters every day. Maybe we don’t even realize it.

I always preface my “negative” feelings with the “acceptable” ones. For instance I might say: “I am so thankful, but I am also really emotionally tired”. Both are true, but one is more culturally acceptable, and so I fall into the trap of leading with that one so that I don’t look quite as messy.

But when did messy become such an undesirable thing? We wear shirts that say “bless this mess” and “hot mess express”, but underneath a trendy t-shirt are we willing to sit in the actual mess with someone else? Or do we just want to fast forward to the happy feelings and organized emotions. Is our goal to fix things or experience what needs to be experienced?

Being human is weird, and it’s hard, and if we’re really honest with ourselves it doesn’t make a lot of sense. I’m overwhelmed every day by my humanity, but I’m convinced it’s the very thing that brings me straight to the feet of Jesus. Actual Jesus. Not media Jesus. Not the Jesus of the modern evangelical church. Real Jesus. The one who gets what it means to be human and emphasizes loving ourselves and others IN THE MESS.

So basically messy is in right now, and so is joy. And both of them together? Well that’s just downright trending.

Love you guys, my messy readers.

Make the LEAP.

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For 16 months I attended an all girls boarding school. It was so damn hard, but I crushed it. As I was preparing to graduate and go out into the world, back into the chaos, I completed two action plans, assignments to help me set my mind on what is to come. I stumbled across them today as I attempted to navigate the great abyss that is my computer desktop. 18 year old me, so long ago, and yet in an instant it all comes flooding back.

            As I get ready to leave SRA I take away the ability to feel my emotions, but not let them overwhelm me. I have the motivation to complete my schoolwork on time and I have more confidence in my ability to do the work well. I am very well aware of my creativity and have confidence enough in my creative abilities to pursue what I love to do in college and probably even beyond that. I eat now to strengthen my body, and I run because I love how my muscles feel when I do. I am aware of my body and what it feels like when I dance or run or play a sport. I look in the mirror without cringing and usually I smile at myself. Things with my family are still pretty rough, but I have learned that I can’t change my family and also from that I have to accept them the way they are. Honesty is the best policy, even if it’s hard and even if someone else lets what I have to say hurt them. Relationships are still hard for me. Although, I have worked on being honest despite what others think and working on not using other people to validate my self worth. I like to lead, but sometimes take charge when I don’t need to. I’ve found my voice and am using it to stand up for myself and to just say what I need to say. I’ve also learned that life goes on until you die and that things just aren’t perfect, I’ll be making mistakes, learning and working my whole life.

Emotionally, I’ve found emotions that I never let myself have, like happiness and excitement. I’ve been able to see my intelligence as something enjoyable, not just a useful thing during the school year. I have found my creativity and use it to do really relaxing things, like paint on a sheet and get all messy or even just coloring in a coloring book. I’ve also taken to reading children’s books to myself which helps me connect with the little Elizabeth inside and also helps me to relax. Well, like I said above, when I dance and run I like how I can feel every inch of my body filled with energy. I love the way it feels. Corny, but it’s almost magical how I feel like i’m floating; once the adrenaline starts flowing my muscles just relax.  Really though, I’ve learned that there’s no magic wand in life. Yeah, sometimes things feel magical, but life isn’t a fairy tale. I have to work for what I want. That concept is magic in itself.

                       I see doubt as my biggest challenge after SRA. When I doubt who I am then everything just falls apart from there. I also think that isolating will be a big challenge because it’s still a lot easier for me to not tell people how i’m feeling or what I’m thinking especially when I’m at home with my family. Keeping commitments has been really hard for me recently and I think it will continue to be a challenge. Especially the little commitments are hard, like going out to dinner, or attending a graduation party. When I don’t keep my commitments I start to feel bad about myself, but I also hurt other people and sometimes even lose their trust in me to be there when I say I will. I still tend to be pretty judgmental, especially of guys, which is one of the ways I avoid intimacy. It’s like an automatic reaction when I meet someone or I feel like we’re getting closer. When I get depressed then I spiral down from there, which goes along with the isolating kinda. As I write this I feel like there are a whole lot of challenges after I leave SRA. Some of them I probably don’t even know about yet. I’ll have to take them as they come.

                       When I’m faced with challenges I know that I have my friends from SRA. I can call them anytime and they’ll talk to me and help me see things from another perspective. They’re just great girls and a really great resource. I like to have a lot of inspiration around my room. My contract is on my mirror, my bulletin board is motivational and I really like quotes so I try to put things like that around so that I see them and they remind of who I am and all that I’m capable of accomplishing. Depression is more like a signal really. It tells me that there’s something that I’m not sharing, not addressing, that I’m holding back. I think mostly, it will be about using my resources; the people I trust in my life, and what I’ve learned.

I had no idea what would what was in store for me. The harsh lessons learned in college, the emotional turmoil as I began to realize that the therapeutic work I had done didn’t even begin to scratch the surface of what I needed to face. But then again, I also had no idea how I would TRIUMPH! And never in a million years would I have been able to imagine the life that I have now, the person that I have become, and the many things that I have learned over the last 10 years. Cheers to you, my brave 18 year old self.

When Doing Nothing is Everything.

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I’ve always been drawn to excitement, adventure, newness, importance. I want to be a part of big things, and make big, beautiful waves with my little life. In Sunday School I was always taught that God had a big plan for my life. And so my little heart dreamed real big, like being the next mother Theresa, or carrying Jesus in my womb, or being a movie star. But what I didn’t quite understand is that Gods big plans often look pretty small and insignificant to us.

We search and search for that big plan for our lives we’ve heard so much about. But in reality, we’re already living it. Many of us won’t do a “big thing”. We won’t cure cancer, or become a well known vlogger, or be the chef at buckingham palace. And the truth is, If we end up in any of those places, chances are that isn’t the “big thing” in our lives anyway. Because the little things, those are really the big things.

As I sit here staring into the eyes of my rambunctious little toddler, I’m wondering about the big things. Last week I turned down the opportunity to audition for a play I desperately wanted to be a part of. But the timing felt wrong, so I didn’t. And that felt like a much bigger “thing” a much more fulfilling purpose then choosing to be home to put my baby to bed every night. But I know, those little things matter. The cuddles, the diaper changes, the many “I love you’s”, the hand holding while I’m trying to drive. Those are really big things.

Sometimes people tell me I should write a book. In fact, I have some beautiful people in my life that believe in my big dreams more than I do. But the truth is, I may write a book, I may not. I may become a known author like my dad, I may not. But I’m learning not to care so much about the outcome, the goal itself. The meat of our lives, the shaping of who we are, it’s all about the journey. The good the bad, it all somehow means something.

Yesterday I had three panic attacks. The day felt like a total flop. Yes I got some things done, but how am I making any kind of difference in anyone’s life, including my own, if I can’t even get through an allergist appointment without sweating though my sweater. But every panic attack is teaching me. It’s teaching me that I can mom even through really hard moments of anxiety. It’s teaching me to cling to Jesus because my moments feel out of control and scary. And it’s teaching me to slow down, to care for myself, to ask for help, to breathe deep. Important lessons that should not be ignored.

If you know me at all you know that I love David. David from the Bible that is. I love his story. Lowly shepherd boy, doing the dirty work. How boring to be a shepherd? How stressful to keep the wolves away from the sheep? How chaotic to herd all those fluffy little things exactly where he needed them to go. But guys, David became a king, and I’m sure you can guess how all of those mundane tasks translated into him ruling a nation. And yes, he might have kind of messed up a bit by having a dude killed so he could sleep with his wife. But the point is, he was just a human guy, being a shepherd, and God used that.

Okay, but we probably won’t end up ruling a nation or anything right? So what if we’re just a shepherd our entire life and it doesn’t amount to anything bigger? It always amounts to something bigger, we might just not always see the bigger or be acknowledged for it. Our lives have a ripple effect, causing shifts we know nothing about.

A few weeks ago our pastor spoke a bit about Mother Theresa. Now there’s someone who did something great, right? We can all see it, and secretly, we all want to live a life with that much purpose. But what struck me was what he said about her mother. She wasn’t extraordinary to the human eye, but she always welcomed people into her home. She told her daughter from a young age “never eat a mouthful without first sharing it with others”. That example she set for her daughter changed the world.

The little things matter, they really do. Because in the end, they really are the big things. So in the mundane day to day when it all feels like a jumbled mess, or when you’ve lapsed back into unhealthy coping skills, remember that it’s all important. It’s all about the journey. Maybe doing “nothing” is everything.

New Years Resolutions, Dreams, and Motherhood.

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I’ve never been much of a resolution gal, but I’ve always been a dreamer. And who doesn’t perch at the beginning of a new year and daydream about what is to come? Some of us make one big goal, some choose a word, some choose so many goals that we collapse overwhelmed three days in.

But as I sit here on my couch, in stillness, my dreams for the new year feel a bit jumbled. There are dreams for my family and our future that come easily and without much coaxing. And there are dreams for just myself-big ones, impossible ones, things that once seemed attainable. But there’s a shift once you have a little person or two relying on you for life…your dreams take a back seat. They just do, it’s the nature of things. And the backseat is fine because they’re still in the car, they’re just not the focus, the one up front controlling the radio. But how do I honor my dreams just as strongly when they’re not in the forefront? Is it even possible to have dreams and change diapers?

Of course there is, right? Women have been doing it for ages. But sometimes when you’re up to your elbows in someone else’s poop, it doesn’t really feel like there are dreams beyond motherhood.

So what do we do? Where do we turn? Do we just throw in the towel and “wait until their older” to honor our souls? Big fat NOPE. Baby steps my friends, that’s how. Because achieving the goal isn’t really the purpose, it’s about honoring ourselves enough to reach towards the goal, and move into the space of accepting our dreams.

This year I’ve come face to face with the reality that I have given up on the dream I have had since I was a little girl: the dream of being a professional actress. I used to stand in front of my mirror and accept an Oscar over and over again. I’d sing the songs from Les Miserables until my throat was sore . But life got in my way a bit, and over the years the dream was pushed to the side. I remember being accepted into college, crying inside that I had never even tried to get into NYU as I had always dreamed.

The truth is, my life has changed. But that dream is still there asking to be acknowledged in some way. And so I will continue to honor it by bravely auditioning for shows in my area, and taking dance classes at 28 years young. And maybe just maybe I will stretch way out far and be an extra in a movie. Baby steps.

There are other dreams too-to write a book, to get back into half marathon shape, to travel more. And they all begin with baby steps. Dreams that I give life to in even the most minuscule of ways. Who cares if I “get there”, all that matters is that I reached towards it, even while momming.

And can I just say friends, let’s not forget that reaching for our dreams is an absolute privilege. I do not take for granted the freedom I have to dream and do something about it.

Dream big this year mamas, and baby steps.

When it feels like God screwed you over.

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I’ve never been able to compartmentalize my feelings to one situation. If someone has wronged me it spills over into our entire relationship until I have properly dealt with it. But until I do, it affects everything. I don’t love that about myself, but I know it’s a part of who I am. It goes hand in hand with being empathetic and sensitive, always asking deep questions and needing the answers.

I know I need God. My head believes in a higher power that looks out for us in ways we can’t comprehend. I believe that there is good in every situation and that angels surround us, stroking our hair when we cry and as the world falls apart around us. But the God in my head and the one In my heart just aren’t the same.

I came to this conclusion a few weeks ago with the help of my therapist. I have been feeling distant from God, craving lots of space from the evangelical normalcies I had grown up with my whole life. I can’t connect to many of the things that the modern church stands for, and yet there’s so much I love as well. Ive realized that there’s a divine being that I know that I need, one I’ve been searching for my whole life, and then there is the God I’ve been hearing about my whole life. And the two are not the same.

As I grow and gain life experience, I am not willing to pretend anymore. I will not accept answers that explain away doubt and fear. I will not settle for another bible verse to stick into every situation. I want way more than that.

But in order to get there, I know I have baggage to resolve with the God of my heart. My past is riddled with painful moments where I don’t believe with my heart God was present. Everything I have learned might tell me that of course He was. But I’m not there. I’m not feeling it. I need to work through the junk standing in my way so that I can cling to the feet of Jesus once again and fully believe that He is with me as has been with me this whole time.

Denying that I feel this way won’t help me. Walking through life submitting to the beliefs of others won’t free me. This is my journey to a deeper relationship with God. A deeper knowing of this higher power who I am sure is much less like the God of the modern church than many of us think.

Are you there? Are you desiring God but unable to fit yourself into the box He’s been put in? Do you need to know it’s okay to rearrange every piece of your faith? Tear it all down people, rebuild brick by brick. Take the time to figure out who God is. Learn to separate that from cultural Christianity and find freedom in the beauty of both. You are not alone. So many of us are doing it. A journey to die to our own selves, and to really be more like Jesus-not who others say He is, but who He actually is.

Happy Tuesday dear friends!

What Motherhood Replaced.

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I told myself I’d never be that mom. I’ve watched women I love and respect leave themselves behind as they navigate motherhood. Dreams get forgotten, passions get forgotten, showers get forgotten. Emotions get pushed to the side in an effort to meet the needs of these little people you love so intensely.

I told myself I wouldn’t do it. I’d continue to pursue my dreams, my passions, shower regularly, keep up with the latest trends. I’d model for my baby girl a mama who considers herself a priority in the healthiest way.

I do believe it. That I’m a priority. Im still trendy (when I leave my house), I’m still chasing after my dreams and passions (then again I only have one kid). But it’s much harder than I expected.

Last night I cried to Eric about the person I used to be. “I’ve been trying to hang onto her, but she’s slipping away”. What I didn’t take into account when I had big plans not to “lose myself” to motherhood, is that there would be no way for me to ever be the same again. Everything has changed. I am a mom. A little person relies on me for everything. My life can’t look like it used to, no matter how much I am honoring myself and my dreams and passions.

I think the sooner I accept that and move into this new version of me, the better. Mourn what used to be, accept that at times I will miss it, and step into this new opportunity to be all that I have been created to be while also being a mom.

Being a mom has engaged a whole new part of my heart and soul that I would never have been able to access otherwise. And when I look at it as an entrance into a new realm of learning and knowing myself, it becomes this opportunity to become something more than I was before.

So maybe motherhood replaced some things. Priorities shifted and life has changed in a way I didn’t expect, in a way you didn’t expect. Maybe you’re in a phase where you are mourning who you used to be, wondering who you are now. You’re still her, just a little bit different. It’s okay to let her go a bit and step into what is to come. Motherhood doesn’t put an end to you, it just shifts it a little bit. You got this mama!

Is it enough to be her mom?

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After an exhausting weekend with a sick baby, I am hunkered down at a local coffee shop before church. Much needed alone time. I have felt my energy depleting these last few weeks as Eric works massive overtime. Most days we make sure to get out of the house once or twice, and being the introvert that I am, the rest of the day is spent resting from those outings. It’s not a bad life to be honest. But most days look very much the same.

Today I journaled ” it doesn’t feel enough that I am raising lilah. Is that enough? Shouldn’t I be doing more?”

I spend a few moments pondering where this pressure is coming from. This pressure to constantly do more than I am, live up to expectations I will never reach. I look around me and it’s EVERYWHERE. People hustling constantly. Stay at home moms with 2 or 3 side gigs, marketing themselves with increased intensity. More power to them, but what does that have anything to do with me? Must I do more just because someone else is? Who is telling me that the little steps I make in the wood floors of our little house every day aren’t just as impactful as the steps of anyone else?

I do.

I let that sink in a minute.

I hold myself to these impossible standards. This unattainable perfection. I want to be good at everything, approach life with constant ease. Maybe that’s you too. Maybe deep down you are holding yourself hostage with expectations like I am.

I want the freedom of days that flow in and out without my fists clenching each moment in control. I want days that feel purposeful and days that don’t, trusting that God will use every little bit for good.

I am reminded of my favorite Bible character, which is saying something as the Bible and I have been in some tension recently. But love David’s story. Specifically the many years he spent as a lowly shepherd, in which God was refining his character to use him later on. Not perfecting, because as we known David did some really crappy things later on, but refining him to have the heart needed to do Gods will.

So here I am. In my shepherd moments. Herding little helpless hands and feed through daily activities. Wondering what it will amount to. Begging to be used in big ways right now, but being asked again and again to just do this. To love inside my own home. To work through my past traumas, to help those close to me do the same.

Is it enough to do what we are asked to do right now? Even if it feels like very little, not enough, monotonous, uninspiring.

Yes. It is enough. We are enough. Big things, small things, those are all just things on the movie reel that is our life. It all leads to something, even if to our eyes it may look like not much.

The thorn in my side.

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This thorn in my side anchors me to Jesus.

My eyes wander, my heart flutters to other things to fulfill it; but my anxiety, that thorn in my side, it is the most uncomfortable blessing. It keeps me clinging to Jesus because I have no other choice. Even when I’m unsure of my faith, the theology surrounding me, my place on earth-there’s this still small voice experiencing something greater than myself.

When I was a teenager I was sure I wouldn’t live to be 21. In fact, I didn’t want to live to be 21.For someone whose life felt like constant turmoil, It seemed like an absurdly long time to be alive. Childhood trauma had festered into wounds I had no idea how to heal. I was self medicating and limping my way through life. Christianity was a muddle of “dos” and “donts” that I couldn’t keep up with. I felt deserted by the God that was supposed to be with us in our pain. But regardless of it all, I still found myself clinging to Jesus in the recesses of my subconscious, on the off chance that he actually existed and cared. And so it’s been my whole life.

I’m 28. I’ve lived well past my 21st birthday. In many ways I am so different than I was 10 and 15 years ago. But even though I’ve worked through so much emotional pain, I will always be an empath, sensitive to others and the world. Earth will always feel a little unsettling to me. But when I find myself seeking comfort in things that ultimately give me no true joy- like endless shopping, seeking the illusion of perfection, self medicating. I am reminded of the gift that I’m too much of a mess to ever think I can do it on my own. Thankfully. If I didn’t wrestle with daily anxiety, emotional ups and down, chronic OCD and perfectionism, I can’t say I’d cling to God in the same way or be able to acknowledge my need for that relationship regardless of whether or not I am angry at God in that moment.

I’m not in love with Jesus all the time. I ask lots and lots of questions and demand answers from God which may or may not include a few expletives. I am daily confused by modern Christian theology and cannot stand the constant use of Christian buzz words.

I’m just figuring it out. Still navigating through past traumas and shame, still experiencing panic attacks and dark days and lots and lots of messiness. But I do know that whoever God is, whatever he or she is really like. It resonates deeply in my soul. So when nothing else makes sense and I don’t know quite where I belong, I just cling to that.

We’re all trying too hard.

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There’s still makeup on my face from this morning, but I’ve exchanged my “trendy” ripped jeans and cute top for Erics old t-shirt and my maternity athletic shorts. “Now that I’m home I can relax” I tell myself. Ugh what a tall order. Who says relaxing is a thing just for home?

That’s part of my problem. Home is where I relax, but the rest of the world is my stage-where I perform. I don’t like that it’s like that. I don’t like that I sat at a table this morning with a bunch of wonderful women and pretended like I don’t have social anxiety and I wasn’t in the midst of the worst period of my life. Granted they were strangers, and there is something to be said about good boundaries and stuff. But it still makes me wonder what it would like if we weren’t all trying so damn hard all the time?

I toyed with the idea of wearing this outfit today. Erics baggy t-shirt, these shorts with the elastic so forgiving, but then I didn’t. Better look somewhat put together at least for our first meeting right? There will be time to look like crap later on. And heaven forbid Lilah not be wearing an outfit that coordinates pants, shirt, and hair bow (OCD coming into play. She matches even when she’s going to bed-send help-I have issues).

But I don’t want to be exhausted every time I leave my house. I don’t want to put on a mask for the world that I can only take off in the privacy of my own home.

And maybe some of you who know me are thinking that I’m an open book. I try to be. I try to be vulnerable and open and honest. And in some ways I am. I have no problem talking about my struggles, my poor choices. But you know what’s really hard for me? FEELING the pain in front of someone else. It’s even hard for me to feel the pain in front of myself.

So today I want you to know that I’m struggling with finding the right medication dose for my anxiety. I’m flailing around between scary postpartum thoughts and so much energy I can’t sleep. Eric and I are navigating a rocky road of his work schedule and my emotional needs. I continue to wrestle with stomach issues and face defeat in my postpartum weight loss battle. But most days you would never know it. I pride myself on holding it together. I never want to be “too much for anyone”.

And I know that today, in a room of so many women, we were all trying too hard. Trying too hard to get it together for two hours so we didn’t look like a blubbering mess to everyone else. Trying too hard to get it together for ourselves so we could feel normal for one second and not like just a mom with no life.

We’re living in a world of trying too hard. And that doesn’t mean we can’t dress up if we want or leave our problems behind for a little while. I will never stop loving fashion and picking out outfits and overspending on poshmark “cuz it’s so cheap”. And sometimes I NEED to pretend for a second that I’m not drowning in anxiety and obsessive compulsive thoughts.

BUT…

We don’t HAVE to. We don’t HAVE to try hard. We aren’t a slave to it. We can try hard or not try hard and pick and choose when and where and why.

My challenge to you and myself today. Go somewhere today and don’t try at all. Just be-whatever that means. And since my introvert self just had a big morning, the farthest I’m getting out is for a walk around the neighborhood, but you better believe I’m still not gonna try. I think it’s a laundry not done, bed not made (not that I EVER make it), cookies for lunch, chipoltle for dinner kind of day.

Who is with me?