The Summer of One

This summer has been a simple one. No plans, no vacations, no rushing with places to go. Yet, even with these slow summer days, I have found wonder in simple things. My daughter is one, and though I should be teaching and modeling a thing or two for her, she has given me the biggest gift this summer. The gift of appreciating things that I have been too rushed to notice. Here are just a few things I’ve learned from her this summer.

Fun is simple

We often chase big and exciting things. Our culture is constantly telling us “more more more” but my daughter finds fun wherever she goes. The thrill of splashing in cold water on a hot summer day. Opening up a new colorful book. Watching cars go by and getting excited when you recognize the “vroom vroom.” Ripping up paper and watching it fly in the air. These simple activities have made me question, what do you actually need to have a good time?

The Power of Music

My daughter doesn’t know what the greatest or latest hits are, but every time she walked into our favorite coffee shop, she started to dance to whatever song was playing. She felt no shame, no embarrassment, just wiggled and bobbed her head to the beat. She doesn’t know the words, only knows that it brings her joy. How often does music bring us together? More often than not, I would think.

The Excitement of Learning Something New

We learned the word “ball” this summer. Anytime she sees a ball anywhere, she gets excited, points, and shouts “ball”. This might not be groundbreaking learning, but it is exciting when you learn something new. Whether it’s learning a new craft, figuring out a puzzle, or discovering a new word, our brains do light up when things start to click.

Appreciate the Wonder of Small Things

From the lone dandelion in a giant field of green grass to watching an ant march in the cracks of the sidewalk, these things I haven’t taken the time to notice until walking with my daughter. She thinks walking down the sidewalk is the most fun thing, but she stops every few minutes to observe her surroundings. I often feel like I’m constantly rushing through life, trying to check boxes and get to the next thing on my list, but maybe there is something to be learned by observing nature’s small moments.

Smile and Say Hi to Everyone You Meet

I am an introvert and not a social butterfly. My daughter, on the other hand, shrieks with glee whenever she sees someone. We have met so many different people this summer, as well as many dogs, because she takes the time to smile at strangers. I personally have felt like I need to avoid eye contact and stay in my lane. However, I have found that most people like to chat. Sure, being a cute one year old might be easier to get people to smile back at you, but who knows how a small smile might change someone’s day. I think the world could use a few more smiles. It might just be the key to making things a bit brighter, a bit safer, and bring a bit more joy.

So maybe this summer wasn’t filled with travel or plans. However, I think it might be one of the best summers yet.

The Journey of Trying to Conceive

In the beginning, you can picture it. 

A family of 2 becoming 3. 

Excitement of welcoming this new concept fills your mind.

After the first month, it was almost a relief. 

Were you really ready for it to happen that quick? 

How many people actually get pregnant “the first time?”

A few more months pass.

You start to imagine what would happen if you got pregnant this month. 

Maybe the baby will share a birthday with a grandparent? 

Oh! Christmas is coming! You can share the news with a gift. 

You imagine the joy this will bring to your family and it fills your soul.

You start to think, this is the month.

Doodling potential names and envisioning the child but it still doesn’t happen.

After 6 months, you decide to take it more “seriously”. 

You research and discover terms you’ve never heard of before. 

Ovulation kits, basal temperature, TTC, DPO, Peak week…

You download a better app and start tracking everything.

You become hyper aware of your body.

Everything it’s doing and not doing…

You think, now I know what I’m doing. 

It will surely happen.

Summer comes with a new sense of hope.

It comes with less stress, and more time.

But it doesn’t happen…

The same negative results. 

After a year, it turns into fear.

Something is wrong.

You need to call a doctor but you also know you are afraid that something isn’t working.

You finally decide to call and can’t get into a specialist for 3 months.

So you continue to track and pray. 

Hey, maybe you will get pregnant before the appointment? 

Sometimes it just takes time, after all. 

Your appointment finally happens.

They send you for tests. 

Another month passes.

They refer you to another specialist but you can’t get in for 6 weeks. 

Bills start to pile up, why isn’t anything covered? You knew this but still why? You thought we were living in a society that states we should be “prolife.”

Meanwhile, each month is the same. 

It never gets easier. 

In fact, it gets worse.

People start to announce pregnancies and instead of being happy, you cry ugly tears.

Jealousy fills your soul. 

Emotions that didn’t exist before start to become routine. 

Each month is the same: tears, acceptance, hope, anger, tears.

It’s as if you’re rolling a dice and you never land on the right number. 

Is becoming a mother actually worth this?

People start to ask why you have cats on your Christmas cards.

When will you ever start having a “real” family?

All your life you debated on how many kids would make the perfect family.

Now all you want is one.

People who “accidentally get pregnant” seem like a cruel joke.

Will you just accept being a “cool aunt”?

Maybe God doesn’t think you should be a mother, that’s why you can’t get pregnant? 

When we have kids, becomes if we can have kids. 

Eventually you stop tracking. 

You need a break.

That family of 3 starts to get hazy.

You no longer can imagine what it would be like, because it doesn’t seem possible.

The cycle continues once more. 

Goodbye “Adjustment” 20s and Hello “Grounded” 30s

During the winter of 2017, I got into a major car accident. This event shook me to the core and even though it took a year, I eventually went to therapy. When the therapist described my initial diagnosis, I wasn’t surprised by PTSD but was confused when she said I also had adjustment disorder.

I was confused as I had never heard of the term before that day. When she explained it was caused by many life changes I bluntly asked her, “Wouldn’t everyone in their 20s have adjustment disorder?”

Because let’s be real, everything about being 20 is a huge adjustment. You’ve technically been an adult for two years, but have no idea what you’re doing. It’s the time of your life where you’re trying to figure out “what you want to be when you grow up” and realize growing up isn’t as cool as you thought.

You see other people start to accomplish things. Friends are getting married and having kids or establishing careers. Meanwhile, you’re thinking if your college degree was actually worth the thousands of dollars in loans and you start to debate if living with mom and dad isn’t really that bad of an option. You wonder if every decision you’ve ever made has been the “right one” and wonder why it’s so hard to find a doctor and dentist in your new town. How do you make friends again? Wasn’t that something you learned in kindergarten? Why does it feel like you’re behind everyone else?

However, the beauty of your 20s is you might not know what you want to be when you grow up, but you figure out who you want to be when you grow up. You get to learn from all of those “adjustments” and figure out who you truly are as a human being.

During my 20s, I figured out what I truly cared about and valued. I realized I shouldn’t care about everyone’s opinions of myself and to keep the people who truly matter close. There started to be less stress about outer appearance and more work on who I was internally. I started to realize that there is no “time line” to accomplish things and life is not a competition.

As I reflect on the last ten years on the last day of my 20s, I am proud of the good times and hard times because they’ve made me into me. My 20s gave me a voice and for that I will always be grateful.

My hope for my 30s is to take the values and confidence I have and continue to grow and thrive. I know there will still be adjustments in my 30s, but I can lean on my 20s to help navigate those adjustments.

So goodbye 20s, you were fun while you lasted. However, I’m looking forward to taking those values that were established in my 20s and being more grounded in my 30s.

Thoughts from a former Skinny Girl

My body has carried me countless miles. Despite the difficulties of breathing as an asthmatic, it has proven it can do amazing things. It has run marathons, hiked mountains, and swam countless pools and oceans.

Yet, I shame it almost daily. I question why it can do all of the things but not look like the fitness models on social media? It’s changed so much in the last few years that I don’t recognize myself anymore.

I use to hear comments all the time about how skinny I was. I was known for being skinny. It was an identifier for myself for most of my life. Those comments are now silent and I can’t help but feel shame. Blaming myself for not restricting my diet and not picking healthy options in favor for comfort food.

I tell myself to make better food choices, only to ignore it and eat a doughnut. This then leads to more shame and blame. I didn’t run today, so I didn’t earn it. This notion is so ridiculous because food is fuel. Regardless of whether I exercised, I need to eat. When did eating become a reward instead of a requirement to survive?

I no longer identify with models but see myself relating to the Greek Statues. This in itself proves beauty is a societal construct changing with the times. My head rationalizes I am fine. I am worthy. I am strong and healthy. Yet, the doctor hands me a paper stating my BMI is becoming higher. I am overweight and what am I doing to stop this from continuing?

I constantly worry about the day I become pregnant. If my body changes scare me already, what will happen when it no longer is my own? When it goes through the most extreme changes and becomes the home to a new life?

Yet the thing I fear most is having a daughter. I know the echoes they could hear if I continue to hate on my body. The fear of looking “fat” and not being confident in myself is something I do not want my child to inherit.

I am aware I am not special when it comes to these intrusive thoughts. I know we cannot always maintain or expect to look like we did 10 years ago. That maybe long ago wasn’t the healthy version of myself and right now is better?

Yet, it’s hard to rewire the brain to think differently. It is hard to see yourself changing and not fully grasping what is happening. It is a process. It is a journey that I don’t know if I ever will fully accept and embrace but awareness is the first step.

I did not write this to throw myself a pity party or seek compliments and reassurance. I wrote this because I know I’m not alone and wonder if we can change these thoughts? Those comments about being skinny was the only comment I ever really got growing up, or at least the one that sticks in my head the most. What can we do as a society to shift the mind that we are more than our weight, our BMI, and to embrace our body and the changes that come with it?

My Nonpolitical Statement

“When you see something that is not rightnot fairnot just, you have to speak up. You have to say somethingyou have to do something.” -John Lewis

Looking back at the past it’s hard to understand why slavery was ever a thing and why someone would say hateful or harmful things to another person based on the color of their skin. I would like to think if I lived back then I would be on the right side of history.

However, after recent events in our divided country I am fearful of standing up too loudly for what I believe is right because I am afraid of losing my job for posting something “too political.” It makes me feel like a rock is crushing my soul because in my mind acceptance, justice, and equity shouldn’t be political but it feels like it is.

Yet, not saying anything at all feels like being a bystander in a bullying situation. I see the bully doing the bullying and yet I stand and just watch it happen. I do not want to be a bystander and not feel like I’m standing up for a just cause.

So here is my nonpolitical statement of what I hope happens when I teach my students…

I want my students to feel like they can trust democracy and believe there is more good than evil in the world. I want them to think critically, do the research, and learn through multiple sources of news, books and articles. Yet for them to also know we only ever know so much and things can and will change.

I want my students to know we are never done learning or growing. I want them to know that it’s OK that who we were years ago can be different than who we are now. Mistakes are tool for growth not destruction.

I want to them to understand before shouting to be understood, to have knowledge over fear, and to live a life of love not hate.

Those are my only wishes and hopes. If we can teach the world to do these things maybe we can find peace and understanding.

The Messiness of a Memory

Memories are strange.

I ask myself why are some parts of time captured forever while others are forgotten?

What makes my brain think, “this is important, this must be remembered.”

An image, tune, scent can bring me back a forgotten moment trapped in time.

The snowy horizon line takes me back to a farmhouse and Christmas Village decorations.

The smell of dial soap reminds me of summer days spent eating chocolate ice cream with bananas.

I want to shout, “Remember this! Do these images and smells not resonate with you at all?”

I then realize these small joys of simple things are only shared with two other people.

Eventually, I’ll be the only one who lived in these moments.

When I’m alone with these memories, is it best to keep it a secret or share these with the world?

To share these thoughts that mean everything to me, but may be mundane moments to others make me fear they won’t be appreciated or accepted.

To think, so many have gone with memories they never got to tell and left the world with the possibility of being the last person who knew of those shared times spent with others.

So when I smell dial soap and see a fresh hillside covered in snow,

Do I hold the story tight, or let it go?

The Comeback Kid

Dear Reader,

I may or may not know you but I feel you. I understand life is not easy or fair and shit happens for no rhyme or reason. I’m here to tell you this moment or these moments that are crushing you, are what makes people come alive and determine our ability to be that Comeback Kid we see in the media. It’s not how we fall, but how we rise that matters.

Maybe you have recently experienced loss or heartache. That person you gave your life to is now the one who also took everything away. The pain stings of wasted time, energy, and hope. You put on a brave face because people rely on your positive energy and life even though you are struggling to just get out of bed in the morning. The pain is like rocks that suffocate your spirits but it is in these times that you need to stop and let others take care of some of these emotional burdens. It is NOT your job to help everyone else. This is the time to care for your SELF. This is the time to be selfish as you rediscover what makes you happy and you again. Go out and dance, rediscover hobbies and if they aren’t as fun find new ones. It may seem that life as you know it is over, but where you are is not a good place. Look instead to see this as the time to restart.

You might be the athlete who in a single moment saw their dreams go away as they fell to the ground. A scream pierces the arena and you realize it’s you. All those hours of slaving away at the gym, all those miles run, and all that pain from torture you put your body through is now wasted in a second from an injury the cripples the once powerful machine you have spent years creating. This moment will run through your head and the only way to get rid of it is to beat it. This moment will not define your accomplishments. How you react and overcome this moment will be your true story. The road bump is great but it doesn’t have to be the end. You create your destiny, not some injury.

To the one who has recently been diagnosed with illness, there is no way to sugar coat this. Sometimes, life just plain sucks and it’s not fair. These are the moments to find your values and live it. Use your friends and family and hold them close. Let others take care of you. Listen to the doctors, but also listen to your heart. Miracles happen and I believe love and support are part of that process. Believe you are the fighter everyone knows but also know it’s OK to be angry, curse, and scream but it’s not OK to let this defeat you.

For my people who are lost, I see you. When everything seems complicated and everyone else has it figured out know they really don’t. Go out and experience life because through experiences is where and how we find ourselves. Being lost and confused on what you are doing is scary because it’s unstable, but I envy you because you are not stuck in some box yet. Think of this as a way to figure out what you really want in life. It might take you weeks and it might take you your whole life but at least you can say you are doing this for YOU and not just to check boxes. Remember, life is not one single destination but it’s made up of tiny moments that take us on a journey of self discovery.

So no matter which Comeback Kid you are, I believe you will bounce back. Time is key. Though we want instant fixes, it’s the process of going through trying times that makes us into someone stronger than we ever thought possible. You have the tools. Now go out and live.

Sincerely,

Bee the Thread

It’s Not Equal

It’s Not Equal

Broken bathroom doors,

Water dripping,

Straight to the floor.

“Ghetto ass school,”

They mumbled.

1 to 1 has no one fooled.

It’s Not Equal

Lounges for students to collaborate and learn,

Clean and safe facilities,

No need for concern.

It’s Not Equal

$25 Dollars to spend on supplies for the year,

Limited copies,

Rummage the garbage cans and hope that pencils appear.

It’s Not Equal

Bright welcoming hallway,

Endless supplies,

“Need anything? Ask don’t pay”

It’s Not Equal

Chaos in the home,

Jail, Drugs, Deportation,

Thing children shouldn’t struggle with alone.

It’s Not Equal

Books read every night,

Supportive families

Help pay for field trips that bring learning to life.

It’s Not Equal

They take the funding away just to watch the poor fall,

Cut teachers, cut programs,

But wait, America has equal educational opportunities for all?

It’s Not Equal

 

 

 

 

Mama didn’t Raise a Quitter, but maybe she should Have?

“Larissa, you seriously don’t have to finish that drink,” my friend proclaimed worried watching me take a deep breath holding a rather large drink in my hands.

“Mama didn’t raise no quitter!” I exclaimed in a drunken state chugging the remainder of the drink in one giant gulp. I had just finished a drink called the Road Raper, which got its’ name from the large amount of alcohol in the drink which included EverClear among many others. I previously had been at another bar and was already quite drunk before deciding to do this drinking challenge.

Even though I was successful in my endeavor to defeat the Road Raper (I still have the cup to prove it) the trip home  was not very successful. I still remember barely making it to my bed and watching the ceiling spin until I finally threw up the massive amount of alcohol in my stomach. The next day I regretted my decision and thought maybe mama should have told me it’s OK to quit sometimes.

Now don’t get me wrong, because my mom raised me not to quit is the reason I’ve been successful in many aspects of my life. I would have never survived training for my first marathon in one of the worse winters we’ve had in a long time without the don’t quit mentality. I’m constantly trying to push myself to do new things and prove people wrong and a lot of that stems from my up bringing of hard work results in a huge pay off. In many ways this is true but I also think “don’t quit” can be a dangerous mantra.

For example, growing up we never missed school unless we had a fever or puking our guts out. Now in my adult life, I tell myself I can’t miss work and am pretty sure I’ve gone to work with a fever and never even knew it. There has been so many times I’ve probably should have stayed home but didn’t want to appear weak or make other people do extra work because of my absence. When in fact, it is good to take a break especially when one is sick in order to not get worse or others sick.

Another thing that worries me about the don’t quit mentality is the impact it can have on personal relationships. For almost three years I dated a guy who had no real interests in me but I was smitten and thought it would eventually work out. I should have blocked his number after the first year, but instead hung on to the idea that one day our stars would align and we would be both be happy together. Instead, I wasted my time on someone who only wanted to hang out when he was bored.

Now, in my situation I at least just had someone who was harmless, just didn’t want any commitment. Some people don’t want to quit a relationship because it could be dangerous for their safety, they’re manipulated into thinking they need this person, or they have a family with this person and think they must stay for the purpose of their family. If they walk out on this relationship they are quitting on their family which is not healthy either for mental stability especially if this relationship is toxic.

Careers are another huge thing that society tells us we shouldn’t ever leave or quit. Yes, people tell you to have a job that makes you happy but people also hate on those who don’t work and make money. When you quit a job, sometimes it feels like you’re leaving a family or betraying people for your own selfish reasons but is it really that bad or is it just what we think people think?

It’s hard to find a balance of “is my job tough or do I hate my job?” which is something I’m struggling with currently. I’m constantly thinking is the mental strain worth the money and benefits or would I be happier working at Starbucks? Is it my career or is it the building? Do I need to go back to school? Or am I just lazy and need to suck it up? These questions haunt me and I’m sure others feel the same way. For me, I’m afraid it won’t be better at another place or another career. Is the grass always greener or am I really in a sucky situation where I need to escape while I’m still ahead and not completely stuck? I guess no one knows until they take that chance.

Quitting is never easy which is why many people just suck it up  but it can be such a relief once it is said and done. I remember the day I decided to quit basketball after my freshmen year. To this day it’s one of the hardest things I ever have done. I knew I was disappointing my family but I seriously hated my life that year I played high school basketball even though I loved the sport. I felt like I was letting my younger self down who always dreamed of being a varsity girl’s basketball player but it wasn’t worth the constant pit in my stomach before practice. Yes, I let a lot of people down but in the end no one really cared that I quit and I was happier because of it. I was able to focus more on running where I loved my teammates and felt like I belonged.

One person I’ve always admired is my youngest brother who doesn’t take shit from anyone. Maybe it’s because he was always smaller and knew he had to be tough, but he never let anyone get the best of him. Recently, he got an offer to help manage his college basketball team. After being disrespected and feeling like he was doing way more than he should have to do, he quit mid season because he knew he didn’t deserve to be treated the way he did. Even though many of us tried to convince him to stay for the sake of his twin, he stuck to his gut and is happier because of it. He is a prime example of quitting doesn’t mean you’re weak. It can mean you have the strength to know your worth and leave a situation that doesn’t benefit you.

So instead of saying mama didn’t raise a quitter, I’m changing my phrase to mama raised a fighter.  A fighter has the ability to know when to persevere through the struggle and the courage to know when enough is enough.

 

 

 

Quiet Girl

Quiet Girl

4 years old,

Preschool time out,

That’s when you realized adults like quiet children,

Not those who shout.

“Don’t you ever talk!”

Quiet Girl

3rd grade,

Thought you were helping,

Ended up making more of a mess.

At least you have your book,

“Listen more, talk less”

Quiet Girl

5th grade,

Thought you could finally understand,

But this math doesn’t make sense,

Be brave enough to raise a hand,

Got scolded for asking a question

“Did you not pay attention to the lesson?”

Quiet Girl

Middle School,

Friends far and few,

Find comfort in solitude.

Rowling, Meyer, King

“Why are you always reading in your room?”

Quiet Girl

High school,

Keep to yourself,

Lost in a mind where thoughts could be safe,

Schools, Sports, Sometimes Social,

“Wait, does she ever talk?”

Quiet Girl

College

Introvert, what is that?

Realized other people’s opinions don’t matter anyway,

One can be heard but, doesn’t have to be loud,

“Talk more, you have a lot to say”

Quiet Girl

Work life,

Put on a show from 9 to 4,

Find time to be successful and social.

One takes precedence over the other,

“Sorry, I need to be by myself.”

Quiet Girl