This past weekend, I was in a small town in northern Michigan. The residents of this town are primarily gracefully aging conservative Christians, but driving through town - I saw so many businesses flying rainbow flags. This made my heart so happy and so sad at the same time.
This country has come such a long way on the road to equality, but anyone who thinks we live in a society where all are treated equally... is walking around with rose colored glasses. I live in a world where I make less in my position than a man does in the same position, in a world where two men are looked down upon for simply holding hands in public, in a world where the color of one's skin still has meaning beyond the amount of melanin in their system, and in a world where there are people living in constant fear simply because of who they are. I don't like this world. Growing up, I was taught to love equally and love hard. When I was young, I remember being confused by mistreatment. Don't get me wrong - I definitely had the classic kid syndrome of staring a little too long at someone who looked different from me. But I can honestly say - it was because I was curious! I wanted to learn. I wanted to soak in the world around me - why is that stranger in a wheelchair? What in life has brought them to that place? How can I help? Can they pop a wheel in that thing? Why does that person have darker skin than me? Where are they from? Can I tell them I think their skin is beautiful? Fortunately, I was raised by people who taught me that it is okay to be different and that it is better to ask questions about something you do not understand than to judge the differences around you. I am not perfect - I make mistakes, but I would rather make mistakes on my journey to a better world than to sit back on my heels complacent. This is why seeing rainbow flags flying made me equally happy and sad. I have always been an ally in the LGBTQ world. I grew up around gay people and I have many friends who identify as LGBTQ (not to mention the whole gay ex-husband thing). I believe that being gay is not a sin, it is not wrong, and most importantly, it is not a choice. Therefore, seeing safe places identified with rainbow flags is so incredibly heart warming - everyone should have a place where they feel safe. The sadness is that we need flags in the first place. I want to live in a world where flags are not necessary to identify allies. I want to live in a world where every storefront, church, hospital, and the like... are warm, welcoming, and safe places. Is this a fantasy world I'm describing? Sure is! But I will continue to speak up against injustice, ask questions, and make mistakes in order for our society to inch ever closer to equality.
0 Comments
Alright friends, I haven’t written in a while and it is mostly because I’ve truly been having a BLAST since the warm weather has come out to play. While writing is a form of therapy, so is being in the sun…with my friends…and a drink in my hand!
However, something has recently come to the front of my mind. I was shopping online attempting to find something to wear to an upcoming Gala and there was one GLARING problem with this activity: I am an “in betweener.” Let me elaborate! It has taken me a loooooooong time to reach body acceptance and positivity. I have a handful of chronic illness that require a handful of daily medications…so this causes my weight to yo-yo frequently. (I am overall very healthy…don’t get me wrong) However, I have recently come to the conclusion that I am HOTT! And yes…TWO Ts HOTT. Okay okay, we all have our “ugly” days, but overall…I am becoming more and more confident with my body. With that being said, I need to stick up for my other “in betweeners!” Here is what I mean: In my wardrobe I have clothes that I wear frequently ranging in sizes from 10-14 and M-XL. Meaning, I do not fall entirely within the “normal” sizing OR the “plus” sizing. Here is where this gets frustrating…Let me lay out a situation for you: Macy’s Associate: “Hello, Maam! Are you finding everything okay?” Me: “Yes, but I would love this dress in a size 14.” MA: “That dress doesn’t come in a 14, but I can show you to our plus size section.” Me: “Okay, thanks!” …..a little while later…. MA: “Are you finding things better over here?” Me: “Yes, I love this dress…but it would really fit me better in a 12. Does it come in a 12?” MA: “The smallest size it comes in is a 0X” AHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGG. GUYS. Seriously….. I truly don’t understand why we can’t have ONE women’s section with sizes ranging from 00-26W. I mean, REALLY?? Why do we need different styles for “plus sized” women? Different styles of clothing fit women differently, which is why I range so much in my sizing…and why “in betweeners” can struggle to find properly fitting clothes. I should be able to wear, and buy, the SAME shirt as someone who is a size 2 AND as someone who is a size 22…because WE ARE ALL WOMEN and WE ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL. SO… to all my other “in betweeners” who ride the line between regular sizing and plus sizing… HANG IN THERE. I am hopeful that there will come a day where “plus” sized no longer holds any semblance of a negative connotation and where “regular” sizing encompasses all shapes and sizes. I decided to pull this from the archives of my old blog! Newton's "gotchya" day is coming up, and it is only fitting. Not to mention my sister referred to him as my "fur baby" this past weekend.
However, I've thrown in some necessary edits that will hopefully put a smile on your face and joy in your heart! You had to know that there would be moments, however flickering they are, in which I blame you for it all.
You had to realize that what you did sometimes leaves me feeling, unattractive, unmotivated, and unlovable. You had to see that your actions made those around you feel like walls were caving in on everything known to be true. You had to hear me in the back of your head, giving you advice like I always had. Guiding you right from wrong. You had to think when you told me, that this realization held the power to ruin me I, however, knew that you did your best and your intentions were never to hurt me. I realized, through it all, that you loved me...just differently than you'd been telling me for years. I saw how it all affected you too; how you struggled daily with the weight of your newly found life. I heard your pain, but realized it was no longer my job to guide you. I thought about everything we had gone through and I knew that only I had the power to let this dictate the direction of my story. I don't always feel willing to talk openly about my anxiety. However, there is a stigma when it comes to mental illness that needs to be broken. Mental illness, which I will hence forth being referring to as "Mental Wholeness" to reduce the negativity associated with the word illness, comes in all shapes and sizes. It is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. Those who struggle with mental wholeness can do anything and everything that everyone else can; fall in love, have successful careers, fight, travel, have friendships, and everything in between. To shed some light on mental wholeness, I've decided to share some things that (have actually been said to me) you should NEVER say to someone with chronic anxiety. "You won’t remember the nights you stayed in, you’ll remember the nights you go out and have fun." UGH. Trust me, I get the sentiment of this one. However, being shamed into going out to “have fun” doesn’t work for someone with anxiety. Staying home, in my warm bed, with my pup and a good movie is far more fun to me sometimes than going out in the wrong state of mind and being a ball of nervous anxiety the entire time. And truthfully, that is hard to explain sometimes. My advice – if your anxious friend doesn’t want to go out, 90% of the time it is probably because he/she truly won’t be able to enjoy it. If you really want to spend time with that person, suggest having a movie night in, or ask if there is anything you can do to help. We don’t like turning away our friends, but (through a lot of therapy) I’ve discovered that sometimes it is the only option for my mental health. "You have no reason to be depressed."
Chronic anxiety DOES NOT mean depression. While some with chronic anxiety may also be depressed, the two do not always go hand in hand. Speaking from a personal level, I have been depressed twice in my life – however, I’ve had chronic anxiety for nearly a decade of my twenty five years. They are two VERY different things. Beyond that – this is NEVER a good thing to say to someone who is depressed or anxious. And this is one of my BIGGEST pet peeves. Others need to realize that sometimes there isn’t a reason. My advice – educate yourself. According to the National Institute of Mental Health, depression is defined as “a common but serious mood disorder. It causes severe symptoms that affect how you feel, think, and handle daily activities, such as sleeping, eating, or working.” Depression is an actual disorder that alters the way your brain perceives things. It is not something one can just “stop” feeling and there are many different types. Depression and anxiety can be circumstantial, but it can also be a chemical imbalance that has no outward reason. "Why would that make you anxious?" This is the one that makes me feel the least supported by those around me. To be honest, it seems decently harmless. The problem is, there isn’t always an explanation. Recently, a friend of mine was describing a situation to me…to which I responded that the situation would wreck me with nerves. My friend simply couldn’t understand why, and I couldn’t explain it. It was frustrating for the both of us. As someone with anxiety, I have a lot of “common” things that trigger my symptoms – i.e. travel, class exams, and the unknown. However, I also have triggers that are completely unexplainable. That is the problem with chronic anxiety – an attack can come on suddenly, with no warning or apparent triggers. My advice – if you have a friend with anxiety and that friend indicates to you that they are anxious, be kind. Do not bombard them with questions of why. Simply ask them if there is anything you can do to help. If it is a hypothetical situation that would make them nervous, assure them that you would do anything in your power to keep them out of that situation. You do not have to understand someone’s feelings in order to empathize. "Why would you take medicine? Everyone gets anxious." Before I was diagnosed with Anxiety, I must admit…I thought this way too. I’d tell myself to “buck up” or “put your big girl panties on.” However, after nearly six months of going back and forth with my doctor on different meds and different dosages... we finally got it right. I can honestly say that once we got everything in a good place, I felt like an entirely new person. It was like a fog had lifted and I was seeing things clearly again. I know that sounds cheesy, but its absolutely true. Treatment is different for everyone. Many people manage their anxiety with meditation, therapy, holistic methods, antidepressants, or a combination of any of the above. My Advice - never, ever assume that you know what someone is dealing with. If you care about someone, support whatever makes them happy. If medicine helps your friend to deal with daily stressors in a healthy manner, encourage that decision...don't question it. ***Disclaimer: These things were all said to me, over ten years, with my best interest at heart. Those we love, who may not struggle with anxiety, sometimes can't fathom how we are feeling. And that is okay. We can learn to react appropriately in the same way others can learn to adjust to those struggling with mental wholeness. If you are struggling with anxiety or depression, don't suffer in silence! Ask for help. If you don't feel comfortable going to someone you love - there are many amazing resources available to you. Here are two great places to start: Anxiety and Depression Association of America: 1-240-485-1001, http://www.adaa.org National Institute of Mental Health: 1-866-615-6464, http://www.nimh.nih.gov It is incredible to me the outpouring of love I have received from my "Dear Stranger" post. Thank you all! Because of this, I thought I would let you all into my muddled mind by explaining my inspiration for "Unraveled." At nearly every difficult point in my life I have turned to writing. When a wave of depression hit in high school, that I still can't quite explain, I wrote songs; I wrote poems; I wrote love letters. My first semester of college, when I was inexplicably homesick, I dove head first into my English literature classes - obsessed with learning to analyze stories and write the perfect essay. When I moved 800 miles away from home to a new city with new people, I threw myself into a blog about surviving professional school as a spouse. Then, when my husband came out, I was at my lowest point. I couldn't bring myself to do anything productive, let alone write creatively. Have you ever seen those animations, where the frame freezes and then a hammer shatters the scene into a million tiny little pieces? That is what my world was doing around me, but unlike the animation, it couldn’t be put back together again; at least not into the same picture. Now, this isn't meant to be a sob story. I don't regret falling in love. But when I felt so broken, that was all I could see. There came a point, shortly after I moved home to Michigan, that I decided it was time to figure out who I was... and who I was outside of my relationship. And that was something I had to do completely alone. While the help of an amazing therapist, generous friends, and outrageously supportive family certainly did their part in my healing process...I was the only one who could decide to be happy. I needed to learn to love myself, whoever that was going to be, before I could think about falling in love again.
Then Lent came along...yes, I'm serious. Lent got me back into writing. I made a Lenten resolution of reading or writing everyday for enjoyment. I do a lot of those things for work, but I had gotten away from my passion behind it. So on the Thursday after Ash Wednesday....(yes, I started a day late) I started writing. I wrote about whatever was on my mind. It wasn't always about my love story, but it certainly lead the charge on common themes. That is when I started to remember how therapeutic writing is for me. It transports me into a world where I can share my feelings with powerful imagery, extensive imagination, and the ability to end my story however I may choose. So that is how I landed here. At "Unraveled." A place for me to spread my mended wings. A place for me to start showing the world how I've raveled myself back up again. A place to be me. It took me nearly a year to write this. An open letter to the woman on the plane who felt compelled to comfort my mother... Dear stranger, We had planned the visit months earlier. My mom was coming down from out of state to visit my husband and me. We hadn’t been able to make it home for Christmas that year and so we planned a long weekend so we could spend some time with her. One week, almost exactly, before my mom was scheduled to come down to see us…my husband came out to me and we separated. He was gay. We were in this weird limbo of still living together, still loving one another, but unable to be together in the way we had always hoped. Then, to throw a wrench in it all, my mom was on her way! My husband and I went back and forth on whether to tell her what was going on or sort out our feelings and put on a brave (fake) front while she was there. I told my mother what happened the exact same day my husband told me. I am her only daughter and I have never been good at hiding my feelings from my mom. Ultimately, I just couldn’t convince her I was okay. Now, dear stranger, you don’t know my mother…but she is one of the most empathetic persons I know. She hurts when those she loves hurts. In some ways, she was more confused than I was about the situation. How did he not know? Doesn’t he love you? How could he be so selfish? Is he coping well? What does this mean for his parents? What are you going to do? The hard part was…I didn’t have answers to any of those questions and neither did he.
And then you came along. You could tell my mother was upset; that she was struggling; that she was embarking on a difficult journey. You asked if you could help. Oh silly stranger! You had no idea what was about to be unleashed onto you. But you handled it with such grace and poise. You listened, you comforted, and you aided. You said words to my mother that still ring true and help her every day: “Maybe your daughter was meant to be in his life. Maybe she gave him the courage to be who God had always intended him to be.”
Funny thing is- it was like you were reading my mind. This was truly one of the first coherent thoughts I had after the fog of grief had lifted a bit. I was liberal, open-minded, outrageous, courageous, and contagious. I have, and always will be, a force to be reckoned with. And that rubbed off on my husband…and each and every day I thank God for teaching me to be that person; for allowing me to love my husband so fiercely that he could finally love himself. So kind stranger, thank you. Thank you for lending an ear; thank you for opening your heart to a mother in need; thank you for giving a gift that can never be repaid; thank you for loving, listening, and learning. Your presence that day is cherished more than you know. Love, An ex-wife, a fierce advocate, and a loving daughter |
AuthorRaveling myself back up again. Archives
December 2017
Categories |