They Kissed, and I was Pissed

A few months ago, I was watching a TV show about two female best friends. At the end of one episode, they kiss. Apparently their love for each other had become something other than platonic.

I was pissed. It took me a couple of days to wrestle through why, because I could tell that my outrage was unrelated to the gender thing. I wasn't mad that they were surprise bisexual; I could tell it was something else that bothered me.

It's that I detest the best-friends-to-lovers trope. Like I cannot overstate to you how much I HATE that.

I had (misguidedly) assumed that I didn't have to worry about that trope with female best friends, so I felt blindsided/betrayed/bummed by the show. Like now I can't even safely enjoy best friendships between females in media.

Here's why I think I hate BFTL so much.

1) Best-friends-to-lovers devalues friendship. The trope makes it seem like the ULTIMATE stage of any relationship is romance. It makes relationships a hierarchy of strangers > acquaintances > friends > best friends > dating. Being best friends with someone is just the last stage before it "elevates" to also being romantic.

The AUDACITY. Lovers is a DIFFERENT type of relationship. It's not necessarily "BETTER." My relationship with Cassidy is no less meaningful, vital, healthy because it's not sexual. I didn't date anyone until I was eighteen years old, and I can tell you that every non-romantic relationship I had before that was better and more important than the romantic one, especially in the long run.

I resent fiction for conditioning the world to think that best-friendship is a lower category than romance, which leads me to Reason #2.

2) The relentless portrayal of BFTL in media distorts expectations in friendships, especially in opposite-sex friendships. For me, there was nothing worse than becoming close friends with a guy only to have him confess that he had romantic feelings for me*. As a Christian girl, I was taught to expect this; it's why opposite-sex friendships can be so "dangerous." As a thinking human, that offended me, and still does.

Telling a guy that I didn't want to become romantic with him was not an INSULT. In fact, it was usually the opposite. I've always felt that romance is temporary, whereas deep friendship is eternal. By declining to become romantic with guy friends, I felt like I was saying, "No, I'd rather love and trust you forever, rather than until we grow apart." For me, friendship and familyship (looking at my brothers: Aaron, Daniel, David) was so much more important, even intimate.

This kind of sounds like Reason #1b, so let me anchor it back into Reason #2: I feel like the relentless media portrayal of best-friends-to-lovers gave my guy friends unrealistic expectations about where our friendship was "going." The trope set them up for disappointment, and me for disillusionment. Guess they only cared about me until they found out they were never gonna kiss me. Cool.

3) BFTL is just cliché at this point. It is NEVER** the case that girl-guy best friendships stay that way in fiction. Even KIM POSSIBLE and LIZZIE McGUIRE went there in the end. STOP IT. Stop devaluing best-friendships by portraying them as the dissatisfying level before things get good. Stop writing predictable plots.

Here's my new philosophy: I think romance should be thought of as an add-on. Romance not a type of relationship; it's a quality of some relationships. If ALL you have is romance, you don't actually have a relationship of any type. You have to add romance to some type of relationship, and you get different things based on that equation. You can be strangers + romance (one-night stand), acquaintances + romance (friends with benefits), friends + romance (friends with benefits or dating), and best friends + romance (dating/engaged/married). Romance is not the highest type of relationship because it isn't a relationship at all; it's a quality.

Now, do I recommend being friends with someone before dating them? Yeah. Do I recommend dating your best friend? Maybe—but not NECESSARILY, and neither of you should be in a friendship or best-friendship only because maybe one day you'll get to sleep with each other. Gross.

So yeah. Glad I got this off my chest XD

~ Stephanie

* I know that for every one of these stories, there's the opposite side too: the poor guy who really liked a girl, got up the nerve to tell her, and got rejected. That is also really hard, and I'm sorry.

** I mean, I haven't seen everything in the world, so maybe not NEVER, but—okay wait, Little Women. And that goes over like a ton of bricks*** due to all the social conditioning. Sigh.

*** Okay tbh, I kinda do prefer Laurie to Professor Bhaer. Have I fallen victim to the very thing I want to destroy? Hm.

P.S. You may be wondering why this post has a crocodile as its photo. Well, I went to the free images site I use and typed in "mouth," because I was trying to get something related to kissing without getting something romantic. I saw this crocodile and I liked it, and it also fits with the blog's color scheme, so here we are.

Stand Up for the Strong Kids

Princess Diaries came out in 2001, but I’m guessing the VHS didn’t come out until 2002 probably, which means I was eight years old when I saw the Krystal Harris “Supergirl” music video. I loved how antithetical its vibe was to the other music video on the tape, Myra’s “Miracles Happen.” Krystal had spiky hair and heavy eyeliner and kind of headbanged when she played the piano.

There was also a line in the song that resonated with me. This might’ve been the first time I related to lyrics. The chorus says, “I’m supergirl, and I’m here to save the world, but I wanna know: who’s gonna save me?” The next iteration is, "I'm supergirl, and I'm here to save the world, but I wanna know why I feel so alone."

I remember staring at the TV screen with a mix of excitement, elation, and...some other emotion I can't name. I think it's in the Frustration Family. (Gabe helps me categorize emotions when I can't name them so that we can at least narrow it down.)

I confided this feeling to an adult. "I love that song because that's how I feel," I said, emitting mostly excitement and elation. (Maybe the other emotion is actually in the Sadness Family?) "I feel like I'm supergirl, but there's no one who's gonna save me."

The adult gave a disinterested "huh" and looked at me like I'd grown a horn by choice, like I was too ignorant and unwise even to be considered cute for the sentiment. The adult didn't ask why I felt that way. Her reaction made me feel stupid for confiding in her, and stupid for feeling the way I did. I mean, I was a kid. How presumptuous of me to assume I was doing anything heavy or heroic in my little life. I guessed I must been misperceiving my experiences.

But I did feel that way. I felt like I was strong and stood up for people a lot, but whenever I was lonely or persecuted, people just kind of watched it happen, unwilling or unable to step in.

When I got older, I was told that this is because I come off like I don't need any help. People assume that helping me would be an insult, or they worry that I might perceive it as such. Hearing that gave me mixed feelings as much as the "Supergirl" lyrics did.

On the one hand, HA. People are RIGHT. I DON'T need any help. If I have a problem with someone or something, I can and will handle it. Your support is icing on the cake, if that.

On the other hand...like, damn, I'm tired. Could people just do it anyway, maybe push through the fear that I might misinterpret their support?

I have a few memories of straight up asking people to stand up for me, but I always seemed to pick the wrong people, people who were only able to stick up for me in a passive aggressive, apologetic, submissive, barely-a-step-above-just-rolling-over-for-the-oppressor way, which I found worse than nothing.

I also remember the people who stuck up for me the "right" way, without being asked. Meredith Andrews, you're on the list 💚 

This post definitely isn't meant to throw shade at everyone I've ever known for assuming I'm a strong, capable person XD I appreciate that—and I genuinely like being one of the Supergirls in my sphere. I can't imagine getting tired of being an advocate for the people I love. It's something I'm good at and enjoy doing.

I think this post is more about the little eight-year-old me, who was already feeling the ambivalence of being "the strong one" in her life, and the dismissal that happened when I shared that feeling. I've talked about this before (here and sort of here too), but I believe it's so important to take kids and teenagers seriously. Maybe there's a place for disillusioning them, but only after you've validated their feelings*. Only after you've asked questions and listened and tried to understand. If you want kids and teenagers to come to you with big stuff, listen to the small stuff, because—to them—it's all been big stuff.

Oh, and stand up for the strong kids too. We're tired.

~Stephanie

* and I mean "validate." A post on "truth versus validity" is in my drafts to be finished one day.

How Super 8 Sort of Saved My Life

This post is the epitome of a "first world problems" post. There are people who have actual problems, whose 2020s were actually tragic and terrible, and I am not one of them. You are free to roll your eyes at this, and you are probably right. But this was my experience, and I've been meaning to talk about it for a while.

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Here's an obvious statement: twenty-twenty was hard—and I had it really, really good. I didn't lose my job or get sick, and neither did the people closest to me. I had it really, really good.

But it was still hard.

The difficulty peaked in July of 2020.

Due to gym shutdowns, I hadn't been working out in about five months. I didn't like the way I looked or felt, inside or out.

I have trouble breathing on good days, so masks give me a lot of anxiety and make it extra hard to get a deep breath.

Places that used to be productive or fun to me—like the grocery store or library—were shrouded in an insidious fog of fear and condemnation. Without the ability to smile at each other, we all somehow decided not to make eye contact either. Everywhere felt like a prison. Every person felt like an inmate. There were "sides" everywhere. You either wore your mask properly like a virtue signaling sheep or you wore it below your nose like a white supremacist asshole.

There are more than two sides—everyone agrees to that—but that's still how it felt in 2020. How everything felt.

I was angry, all the time. I was angry at how irrational I thought some people were being, and I was angry at how irrational I assumed they thought I was being. All the things I'm passionate about—freedom, the government, health, fitness, church, holidays, travel, Disney World—were being tainted.

It felt like there was nothing good left.

And I had it really, really good.

Wake up, don't go to the gym, think about how mad you are, eat breakfast, work, don't see friends, think about how mad you are, don't make plans, put on a mask, think about how mad you are, go to the grocery store, see some new shortage, read some sign about the vaccine, think about how mad you are, accidentally make eye contact with someone, don't see friends, cook dinner, watch TV, see something on Facebook, think about how mad you are.

In July of 2020, Gabe and I celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary. He was new at his job, so he didn't have time off for us to take a trip or anything. We went to a friend's wedding in Asheville the weekend after our anniversary and decided to stay the weekend, make it a mini trip.

It rained.

Every store we wanted to go into required masks, which triggered anxiety, anger, and acne the following week.

None of the little local restaurants would let people eat inside, so we couldn't try anything new.

Nothing felt good. Nothing. Felt. Good. Nothing sounded good, present or future.

The world felt bad. It felt like it had been bad for months, and it didn't feel like it was likely to get any better. All the people making decisions were making decisions that made my blood boil. Being alive was exhausting and infuriating and I hated it.

Absolutely nothing that had ever, ever brought me joy was of any interest to me at all. Dancing? Emptiness, apathy, like we'll ever be able to dance without masks again. Reading? Emptiness, apathy, nothing sounds interesting. Writing? Emptiness, apathy, don't feel like saying anything. Eating? Emptiness, apathy, why bother. Working out? Emptiness apathy, can't do it anyway. Seeing friends? Emptiness, apathy, I don't enjoy anyone.

Gabe and I were on our way home from our utterly failed "anniversary trip" when I told him that I didn't feel like living any more.

I know it scared him. I couldn't care at the time. I just let silent tears happen. I just wanted to stop living. There aren't words for how it felt to have a black hole inside me. It wasn't intense, at all. It was like deadness, like nothing, and that's not something I feel often.

I don't remember what Gabe said. Probably things that were very comforting and very rational. I don't think I heard them.

When we got home, we decided to watch Super 8. Neither of us had seen it since it came out, and we both remembered liking it.

We watched it. It was good. And then a line drove a spear straight through my soul.

"I know bad things happen," one character says to another. "But you can still live."

The line hit home.

It didn't promise that things would get better—I wouldn't have been able to hear that anyway—it just said that life was still possible. Life. Living. That was all.

Bad things happen. Fact. But that shouldn't cripple our ability to live. It doesn't.

"I know bad things happen, but you can still live."

In a way I can't describe, I felt Heard by that movie. Or maybe the movie was Heard by me, I'm not sure.

But that was a turning point for me. God used a line from a J.J. Abrams movie to snap his fingers in my face and anchor me back to reality.

"I know bad things happen, but you can still live."

No promises. Just facts.

No anger, just truth.

I don't think I'm saying this right, but I never will if I don't starting trying.

~Stephanie

Do You Want to Be Comfortable or Do You Want to Be Happy?

It occurred to me the other day that I've gotten out of practice doing things I don't want to do.

{Aaaaaaand from here, this post went in a direction I didn't see coming, which happens to me a lot. I really thought this would be a short post, and yet here I am, adding this note thirty minutes into writing it. I think some of the post is going to seem anti-mental health. I don't think I am. If you want to talk about it, I'd love for you to message me.}

As a kid you often have to do things you don't want to do. Your parents make you do chores before you can hang out with your friends or watch TV. Then, if you go to college, you have more things to do that you don't want to do—even if you like your major. Your professors make you turn in papers and drafts, show up to classes, read books and plays and articles, and books and articles about books and plays.

In today's society (all of my English professors just died inside), we seem to be glorifying comfort more and more. "Glorifying" might not even be strong enough; "idolizing" might be more accurate.

If someone is "stealing your peace," cut her out of your life. You don't need that kind of negativity.

If you suddenly don't feel like doing something you RSVP'd to, don't go. You don't owe anybody anything.

If you've had a rough week, you should just watch Netflix and scroll on your phone for hours. You deserve a break.

There are all these movements to "normalize" things too—AKA force people to accept things because the idea of their not accepting them makes you uncomfortable.

Normalize women having body hair. Or how about if you're a woman, you do what you want with your body hair and don't care what other people think?

Normalize men showing emotions. Or maybe if you're a man, show emotion as much as you want and don't care what other people think?

Normalize eating at restaurants alone. Or maybe if you want to eat at a restaurant alone, just do it.

Things don't have to be "normalized" for you to do them. It isn't as though these things aren't allowed; people are just too chicken and uncomfortable to do things until society accepts them. It isn't everyone else's job to make sure you feel "normal."

(Do people even want to be "normal"? Isn't it more fun to stand out?)

If you don't feel like cooking, you can have food delivered to your door.

If you don't feel like shopping, you can buy anything online and have it shipped to you.

If you don't like cleaning, maybe you hire some help.

Now, on one hand, I get all of these things. Mental health and boundaries are important.

If someone is stealing your peace, it may be a healthy thing to get some distance. But it might also be healthy to have an uncomfortable conversation with the person.

If you are running yourself ragged and need a break, you might be right to sit out a social event that you RSVP'd do. However, my gut says that commitments to other people are important. It's not all about you. You don't get to let people down just because you're feeling tired. You should've thought of that before you RSVP'd, or planned your week better since you knew this event was coming up.

Sometimes turning your brain off to watch TV or scroll social media might work, but maybe spending time in prayer, taking a walk, or journaling—things that are less comfortable, but may do more to heal you—are a better option.

I get it: no one wants to be labeled rudely for their body hair, being emotional, or eating alone. Yes, if all these things were "normalized" you'd be more comfortable with yourself.

But you might also be lazier and less brave.

I've been living as an adult for a few years now. It has been a really long time since someone has made me do something. I spend a good amount of time on Facebook and Instagram, where trends and Society run rampant. I think the message of King (or Queen, if you'd like) Comfort have slowly sunk into my subconscious.

Why should I clean my apartment? I don't want to.

Why should I grade these papers? I don't want to.

Why should I read this book for work? I don't want to.

Why should I go to the grocery store? I don't want to.

Gradually, it has gotten harder and harder to make myself do these things.

I just won't clean. We rarely have guests. Who cares? No one is going to make me.

I just won't grade these papers. I'll do it next week. Maybe.

I just won't read this book. I'll read it tomorrow. Or the SparkNotes. Or watch the movie.

I just won't go to the grocery store. I'll get things delivered or ask Gabe to stop on the way home from work.

All these are viable options, and what's more, I've allowed myself to be conditioned by Society into thinking I deserve to take these shortcuts. I deserve to be comfortable. I deserve to be happy.

Ooh, that's it. Society has decided that comfort equals happiness, and we all deserve to be happy.

Well, I don't think I'm happy. I think this has been a huge bait-and-switch. I took a bite of happiness and it turned to discontentment inside my mouth.

I don't like the "comfortable" person I've become.

At Classical Conversations, one of the things we want students to learn is "how to do hard things." You don't like Latin? It's hard for you? Good. You're going to have to do difficult things you don't like your whole life. This isn't about a subject, it's about your character. Learn to do hard things.

I've gotten out of the habit doing hard things. I've begun to believe the lie that comfort will make me happy. I don't think comfort will make me happy. I think doing hard things will make me happy. I think cleaning my apartment even when I don't want to will make me a better person. The goal is not even to get to a place where I want clean my apartment. I should clean my apartment in the midst of the not wanting to.

No one makes me do things I don't want to do anymore. Not my parents, not my professors, not my boss(es), not my husband. I am the only one who will make myself do hard things, and for a while now, I often haven't.

Yesterday, when these thoughts began forming in my mind, I decided that I would do one thing a day that I didn't want to do. Yesterday it was cleaning the apartment.

It was weird, because I really didn't want to. It was like I thought if I made it a game, a challenge—"Today cleaning the apartment will be the thing I do even though I don't want to"—it wouldn't suck as much. But I found that it still did. I almost didn't do it, because I REALLY still didn't want to. But I did do it. I was really glad that I had. (And I was REALLY glad today that I had.)

Today I didn't want to assess some formal logic midterms that students took last week. I didn't have to. I have time to do it other days. But I did. I really didn't want to, but I did. It was easier than cleaning the apartment. I feel really good having done some of them.

I know a lot of things I don't want to do tomorrow, but I'm going to pick one—one I really don't want to do—and I'm going to do it.

Mental health is important. But that's not why I wasn't cleaning the apartment. I wasn't cleaning the apartment because the sacrificial part of my character was growing weak.

And I don't want to live like that. It doesn't make me happy.

~Stephanie

Jesus Had Limitations

I have always considered myself to be a lazy person.

Growing up, I was often told that I was lazy, and I assume it was true. I internalized it as part of my identity. Being told that I was lazy did not make me less lazy; it just made me aware of the fact that apparently laziness was part of who I was.

If I didn't get my homework done, it was because I didn't try hard enough. If I didn't take all the college classes I wanted to, it was because I didn't want to apply myself sufficiently. If I'm late to a function, it's because I didn't plan well enough. If I'm not a good enough friend to someone, it's because I'm too lazy to try. If I don't finish a work project on time, it's because I didn't work hard enough. If I'm not in the physical shape I want to be in, it's because I don't commit to it. If I can't have three careers and also be a stay-at-home mom, it'll be because I'm lazy.

It's part of my identity. I AM a lazy person. I don't have any limits at all except an unwillingness to work. There is no other reason besides laziness that would account for the above things. I am capable of literally ANYTHING and the failure to do literally anything is 100% a lack of focus and determination.

Except, maybe that's insane?!

I was listening to the Made for This podcast by Jennie Allen this morning and Kirk Franklin was a guest speaker. I was going about my day when he started hitting me with truths I had never considered before. The scales have fallen from my eyes and now I feel like an actual crazy person.

He quoted the book Ordering Your Private World by George MacDonald: "Jesus knew his limitations well.* Strange as it may seem, he knew what we conveniently forget: time must be properly budgeted for the gathering of inner strength and resolve in order to compensate for one's weaknesses when spiritual warfare begins."

If JESUS needed time to recharge, if JESUS had limitations, then how appallingly arrogant of me to assume that I have none; that my only limitation is laziness; that I have no spiritual, physical, emotional, intellectual, relational limitations whatsoever. (I'm hearing how insane and arrogant this sounds as I process it. Good grief.)

Kirk went on to point out that one thing Satan does is tempt us to go beyond our limitations, to exhaust ourselves in any or many of the above categories. "Rest is a weapon," Kirk said. "It's very hard to tempt well-rested, emotionally healthy, happy, and serene people."

Maybe I'm not fundamentally lazy. Maybe I'm TIRED. Maybe I'm really, really tired. Maybe my assumption that I have no limitations has led me to be not only overextended, but emotionally abusive to myself. Until this morning, I ACTUALLY THOUGHT that the ONLY reason I had not succeeded in any number of "failures" was because I just hadn't tried hard enough, because I was lazy.

And honestly, I'm not sure which camp I find more uncomfortable: the You Are Lazy camp, or the You Have Limitations camp.

On one hand, acknowledging that I have legitimate limitations is both reasonable and reassuring. On the other...well, it is a strangely difficult pill to swallow. I have always been comforted by the fact that I COULD do literally anything, I just CHOOSE not to because I'd rather be lazy. It is humbling and disconcerting to think that I may not be ABLE to work a 40-hour a week job, tutor Challenge B, teach dance, have children, homeschool those children, run a perfect house, read a book a week, write and publish a novel, have a great tan, get into perfect shape, have a deep relationship with God, be a great friend, be involved in church, be politically active, become fluent in multiple languages, and relearn math simultaneously NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY.

That was not hyperbole for the sake of making a point. That was the actual list of things I assumed I was capable of doing concurrently if I just weren't so lazy.

Even now, it's hard for me not to look at that list and narrow my eyes and say, "But, like, you COULD. You just WON'T." I still kind of feel that way. Maybe it's a weird millennial side effect of growing up on "you can do anything you put your mind to" culture.

I'm not sure what to do with this. Do I take a vacation? (It's been over a year since I took one...) Do I quit a job? (LOL) Do I...?

~Stephanie

*Obviously as God, Jesus had no limitations. However, he was also human, which comes with limitations that he chose to acknowledge and live within.

I am a Republican, Therefore So is Jesus

A couple of months ago, I realized I was falling into a trap that I think Americans struggle with more than any other nationality: prioritizing politics over Christianity.

(Note: I went off on a tangent that I didn't see coming. It is thoughts that have been floating around my head for a long time, needing to be organized. It is relevant to this post, but not necessary. If you want to read that part, it's in a PS at the bottom.)

I get why America has a high degree of national pride. I believe in her founding principles and I really hope that one day they are—and feel—true for everyone equally.

Because I believe in America's founding principles so wholeheartedly and am proud of her potential as a country, belief and pride in her have become values of mine. Because they have become values of mine, I believe that they are right and true, as is the case for values that anyone holds. If you didn't believe a value was right and true, you wouldn't hold it as a value, would you?

However, as you are aware, we also have a lovely thing called "political parties." I would like to think that both parties have the interests of America and her citizens at heart. So, assuming that we all have the American value of loving our country, we all pick a political party that we think best upholds that value.

Love of freedom, one's country, and one's neighbors feel easily compatible with Christianity. Jesus is all about freedom, I imagine that he would rather a healthy country, and we know he prioritizes loving our neighbors.

With that in mind, we tend to assume that if we are Christians, our politics will align with Christianity automatically. If we hold X values related to our country and we also hold X values related to Christianity, they're probably going to coexist fine because they're held by the same person. It wouldn't make any sense for the same person to hold values that were at odds with each other. Because of this, we usually choose one of the Lovely Political Parties that aligns with our political beliefs and assume that it aligns with our Christian beliefs.

In theory, that should work. But we have two major problems:

1) Only one of them can be the top priority.
You can have Christian values and you can have political values (and theoretically they can coexist). However, one of them is going to be the deciding vote at some point. If you can't serve both God and money (Matthew 6:24), you can't serve both God and your political party either.

2) Politics is in our line of sight more often.
This may not always be the case (it certainly should not be the case), but thanks to social media, we are drowning in politics 24/7. Everything is political. EV. ER. RY. THING. EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!! You literally cannot swing a dead cat* without hitting an opinion that finds itself rooted in politics.

Because politics is what's in front of us most often, we allow the positions of our parties to dictate our opinions on politics, which is—as we established—actually our opinions on EVERYTHING. We don't stop to think, "How is this aligning with my beliefs as a Christian?" because we assume it must.

We continue on our merry ways, drinking the Kool-Aid of our given political party and assuming that whatever it thinks is what Jesus would do.

Well, folks, there are Christians of both parties, so clearly that's not true. Clearly politics is NOT synonymous with our Christian values, at least not all of the time or by default.

So what do we do, as Christians?

We need to stop voting by political party.

We need to check in with Jesus and the Bible for our values and political opinions. We need to pray. We need to prioritize loving our neighbors and living the fruits of the spirit and fighting for justice. We need to put Jesus in our line of sight more often than politics. We need to saturate ourselves in the Word. We need to dwell with Jesus, letting him transform our hearts and minds to be more like his.

THEN, with our minds informed by Jesus, we should form our opinions on current issues and find a candidate/bill that aligns with our value as a Christian. Sometimes that may be one political party, sometimes it may be another.

And you know what? As Christians, that shouldn't bother us. Our loyalty is not to a political party or our country. Our hope is not in a political party or our country. Our loyalty is to JESUS. Our hope is in JESUS. The end.

It's embarrassing that it took me this long to untangle my patriotism from my hope in Jesus. It's embarrassing that I would form a political opinion and then ascribe it to Jesus. It's embarrassing that I was letting the opinions of my political party transform my mind rather than the Holy Spirit.

I want to be done with that. I want you to be too.

~Stephanie

P.S. In general, I think Americans have more national pride than most other countries. In general, I think this makes sense. America was founded very much "on purpose." She didn't evolve as much as she shouted, "NOT TODAY" at England and then sat down with the journal prompt "If I could start a new country, what would it be like?"

When America closed her journal with a contented sigh and nod, she had decided on several specific principles that I happen to agree with wholeheartedly:

- Everyone has the right to political and religious freedom.
- No one has the right to rule without the people's consent.
- Governments are naturally power-hungry and should always be kept in check, hard.

Has America lived up to these ideals? Not so much. However, that doesn't make her ideals any less beautiful or noble or worth fighting for. The Founding Fathers were onto something, and the fact that we've executed it imperfectly is not cause to disparage them or their ideals, but an inspiration, an obligation to do better.

It makes sense to me that a nation founded with this degree of intentionality is generally proud of itself. If you move into a house that's a few generations old, you will redecorate it and make it your own and you'll like it. You may move later, or your children may decide to sell it after you die, but for now you like your house and—sure—you're "proud" of it.

However, if you buy a couple of acres of land, design a house, and build it from the ground up? Whole 'nother level. That is YOUR house. You will be PROUD of it. You will think long and hard before moving. Your children will know that you built that house and they'll be a little bit proud of it too. This house belongs to the family.

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* Like, actually imagine swinging a dead cat and how you would get caught and BLASTED with an admonishment that quickly turns political (even though, like, it really wouldn't need to because swinging a dead cat would be wrong for reasons in many other spheres first).

Lists with Asterisks: Lent Life So Far

I'm not sure if this post belongs on Becoming Me or Reason in the Rhyme.

It's about lifestyle changes, which puts it here, but it's also about wrestling with what I think, which would put it over there. Maybe I'll post it in both places.

It is Day 9 of Lent. It is also Day 19 of an unrelated health "challenge" I made up for myself. Present Me is now suffering at the hands of overachieving, all-or-nothing Past Me. I'm beginning to be slightly miserable. I will either break soon, or have a breakthrough soon. Here's what's going on.

What I Gave Up for My Own Eight-Week Challenge:
- "white" grain
- candy
- dessert
- unnecessary/excessive processed food
- eating directly from containers

Now, true to my tattoo, this challenge is riddled with asterisks. These are general principles I'm sticking to as much as I can. Will I have an Appalachian Cookie Company cookie when Gabe and I go to Boone for the weekend? Absolutely. Have I been eating white rice? Yes. These are "more like guidelines than actual rules," but I've been sticking to them very well on the whole and I'm proud of myself. It is getting easier and easier.

What I've Given Up for Lent:
- Facebook
- Instagram
- YouTube
- non-Christian music
- non-Christian podcasts
- solo Netflixing
- Poshmark/Mercari

The big asterisk to this list is different: In no way do I think these things are "bad" or "wrong" or "sinful." I don't intend to give these things up for life, and I don't think that I should. I have just been feeling called for a long time to strip my life of distractions so that I can get my focus back on my relationship with God.

I am one of the most distracted people I know. The mental habit of being distracted has started to feel almost like an addiction. I can't stop being distracted. If I'm watching TV, I'm also on Facebook. If I'm making dinner, I'm also listening to a podcast. If I'm having my quiet time, I'm also making a to-do list on my phone. If I'm in a meeting, I'm also sending an email.

It's not just that I like to multitask. I do, but lately the feeling has been more akin to an addiction, a compulsion. I can't just do one thing at time. It makes me restless. My mind cannot settle.

When that started to happen in my quiet time and I could not make it stop, I knew I needed some kind of mental reset. I decided to strip my life down to the basics and then add in only the things I intentionally wanted to keep. I ended up with a list of ten things that I then ranked/prioritized. If #7 is going to prevent me from being able to do #5, I try not to do it.

The things that didn't make it onto the priorities list—because they didn't come to mind when I put on the lens of "basics + things I definitely want to keep"—are the things I'm giving up for Lent.

(I modified the music and podcasts thing. I didn't think to put "music" or "podcasts" on the list of priorities at all because those aren't things I sit down and do for their own sake; they're things I do while doing other things. Since Lent is supposed to be about refocusing on God, I added Christian music and podcasts back in.)

The results have not been what I expected.

Since I'd have no other options, I expected to gladly fill the voids with prayer, reading the Bible, and journaling.

Looking back, I don't know why I expected this. Humans have never been ones to think, "Hey, you know what, let's do something hard instead of something mindless."

My quiet times have not deepened or lengthened. I do not know that I pray a ton more than I did. I do think that listening to Christian music has done a lot for my mood and mindset; that one has actually worked the way I'd hoped it would.

I dunno. It's kind of what Pastor Matthew talked about a few months ago: It's not enough to uproot your weeds; you have to plant Jesus in their place, otherwise 1) the soil erodes, or 2) more weeds grow.

For some reason—some weird form of stubbornness—I have so far chosen to uproot the weeds in my life, but refused to plant Jesus in their place. The result has been voids of bad attitude, boredom, and real sin that happens to fall technically in the realm of fair game during Lent.

I've been told that my Lent list is too extreme, like an overly restrictive diet doomed to fail. I get that. Maybe that's true. I just have trouble seeing how there is a bad way to replace things with Jesus. I have trouble seeing how any amount of sacrifice is too much when Jesus literally gave it all.

My thought process is not holier-than-thou. I wish you could hear my head-tone. It's just simple, sarcastic math in my head. There is nothing I could do that would be more than God deserves. (Again, I want to stress that I don't think it's sinful to have "non-Christian" hobbies or elements in your life. This is something that has been on my heart and that I'm doing for a season to try to rewire my chronically distracted brain.)

Even as I wrap up this post, I don't know what I'm going to do afterwards. I would like to do something healthy like pray, journal, read the Bible, read books, go for a walk. But what I really want to do is goof around on my phone in the ways I still can, like sifting through photos, reading through Notes, checking email, etc.

I honestly don't know what I'll do.

~Stephanie

"That Hurt My Feelings": Part 2

For context and part one, I would highly recommend reading "'That Hurt My Feelings' Part 1." If you don't have time for that, here's what happened in a nutshell: This podcast about songs written for the Enneagram types blew my mind with the revelation that my whole life I've just been "open" when I thought I was being "vulnerable."

I'm an Enneagram type Eight: passionate, assertive, dedicated to justice, and terrified of betrayal. The second podcast quote/concept that brought me up short was this:

2) "This word 'vulnerability' comes from the Latin word for 'wound,' and to be vulnerable means to be 'wound-able'..."

Somewhere in the podcast—or maybe it's just implied, because I can't find it right now—Chris talks about how difficult it is for Eights to confess when they've been hurt, to say the words, "Hey, that hurt my feelings."

My actual reaction:

Wait, I thought, feeling slightly panicked. Do other people actually TELL PEOPLE when they've been hurt?! Do other people say, "Hey, that hurt my feelings?!" Past the age of, like, five?

I don't do that. I do NOT do that. The concept is foreign, uncomfortable, and slightly ridiculous to me. Why would someone do that? Why would you walk up to the Indians* and say, "Hey, here are some guns, and by the way I don't wear armor on my back."

I vividly remember the handful of times people have come to me and said, "Hey, when you did X, it really hurt my feelings."

I feel like they've just pulled their pants down in the middle of the mall. I feel like asking them if they know they said that out loud. I feel like they've just handed me an endangered aquatic animal and I'm holding it, dripping, out in the air, afraid it might die at any second but, like, there's not an ocean around, so what am I supposed to do with it?

To my memory, I have only ever told one person that he hurt my feelings, and it was Gabe, and it was in the past six months, and I remember it feeling really, really weird.

[I feel like I need to add that I genuinely don't get hurt very often. It is very hard to offend me personally. I was an English major, and we basically major in putting ourselves out there and having someone (constructively) criticize us. I am all about "breaking bones til they're better." But...apparently this isn't because I'm good at being vulnerable; it's because my collection of vulnerabilities is guarded deeper and better than most.]

Yesterday at regular small group, the concept of vulnerability came up AGAIN, and that coupled with the Sleeping At Last podcast had Gabe, Cassidy, and me talking about this revelation on the way home.

I told them about my revelation of openness versus vulnerability, and told them that I wanted to work on this, but that I didn't know how. I've always thought I was being vulnerable, but it turns out I've just been open. So what IS vulnerability, and how do I do it?

They said some things, and gave examples, but I was all like, "Yeah, I don't mind sharing that at all. That must not be vulnerable for me?"

Gabe suggested, "It would be like—and this is just a really concrete example—going up to someone and saying, 'Hey, here are some things that would make me really sad or really bother me. Just so you know.'"

"Okay..." I said slowly, fighting back the inner screams of WHY WOULD SOMEONE EVER DO THAT?

"It would be things you don't want people to know," Cassidy said. "Like weaknesses or fears."

"Okay..." Some very specific thoughts and ideas came to mind. "Okay, I'm starting to get some. And...maybe I'm not ready to vulnerable because I definitely don't want to say them."

As a Four and a Nine, they didn't push.

This post does not end in my being vulnerable. Not today. Today you just get some more openness. But I'm aware of the difference now, and I'm beginning to approach it.

Actually, here's something that feels a little vulnerable, because I have not wanted to tell you: If you want to know me on a level I'm not entirely comfortable sharing, I'd suggest listening to the Sleeping At Last podcast on the song "Eight."

~Stephanie

* Don't come at me with the PC police. I'm just going off the idiom of "selling guns to the Indians."

"That Hurt My Feelings": Part 1

I'm gonna need you to stick with me through this one. It's going somewhere—honest—and I already split it in half from what it was originally, so you're welcome.

The Enneagram* has really taken off in my life and the lives of those closest to me. We have been having revelations left and right, unlike anything I've ever experienced. If you know me, you know that my entire life has been a quest for personal revelations and indications of how to grow better, almost (definitely? See below.) to the point of being obnoxious.

[Tangental Story: When I was 12 or 13 years old, I had three best friends: my sister Sarah, Jesse, and Ellie. We were close for lots of reasons (one of them being The Fire Fairy Story, which soon may have a hyperlink, because I think it's creeping back into my Becoming journey). Lately we'd been having issues of the typical petty, hormonal type, and I was done with it. I literally SAT US ALL DOWN and made everyone go around in a circle and tell something that bothered them about all the other people. My intention was to get everything out in the open so that we could deal with it, grow, and become stronger friends. However, this is when I learned that not everyone jives with this sort of confrontation. Everyone ended up mad at each other, no one wanted to work through things, and they still give me a good-natured hard time about "Stephanie's bashing circle" to this day XD]

Okay, wow, that really was a tangent. I'm supposed to be talking about being vulnerable. Maybe I'm stalling? Or maybe there's just so much context needed to do this subject justice.

I'm an Enneagram type Eight. Eights are passionate, assertive, dedicated to justice, and terrified of betrayal.

Since I last wrote about the Enneagram, I've been introduced to the "band" (it's just one guy, kind of like Owl City) Sleeping At Last and his Enneagram project (thanks, Garrett!). This man, Ryan, did months of intense research about each Enneagram type and wrote a song for each. Because every facet of each song is engineered to reflect its Enneagram type, he also has a podcast where he unpacks the elements of each song, from the lyrics, to the tempo, to the instruments, to the random "fingerprint" sounds buried in the music.

Throughout this commentary, an Enneagram expert named Chris has segments where he unpacks each type a little bit. Gabe and I listened to the podcast on his type (Four) and my type (Eight) in the car last weekend. There was a lot of blushing and side-eyeing each other when the nail was hit so squarely on the head we felt it almost physically. [Cassidy has since started listening to the podcast on her type (Nine) and is, and I quote, "shook."]

A LOT (most? all?) of the things said about Eights resonated with me, but one concept stuck out above all the rest. It can be broken into two quotes from the podcast, one of which I'm covering in this post:

1) "For [an Eight], the first lesson, and maybe the hardest lesson, is this movement from transparency to vulnerability."

I heard this podcast three days after my ladies' small group leader, Lindsay, had dropped a bomb that she probably didn't even see land on me:

"I'm very good at being open," she said in passing. "But I'm not good at being vulnerable."

If I'd been mentally walking along, this stopped me in my tracks.

Wait, those are DIFFERENT?! I screamed in my head.

My whole life, I've assumed I was great at being vulnerable. I've assumed vulnerability was something I didn't struggle with at all. I am perfectly comfortable talking about things that make most people squirm. If you ask me, I'll tell you intimate details about literally anything. This blog (and all the others I've had throughout the years) is full of my being what I thought was "vulnerable," but turns out is just "open" or "transparent."

Then I got to thinking: if all I've ever done is be open, do I even know how to be vulnerable?

And the answer, I think, is "no." Or, better, "not yet."

In Part 2, I'm digging into the conversation with Gabe and Cassidy that followed this self-revelation, and the second quote from the podcast that mentally stopped me in my tracks.

~Stephanie

* If you want to find out your Enneagram type, YOU MUST READ (at least a little) ABOUT ALL NINE TYPES AND FIGURE IT OUT FOR YOURSELF. Internet quizzes WILL NOT tell you your type. I have actually removed the hyperlink to an internet quiz in my original Enneagram post because it proved so ineffective at helping my friends, family, and self identify our types.

Two Years Late to the Podcast Party

A couple of years ago, podcasts became trendy. People would ask me if I listened to podcasts, and I would tell them that I did not. They would recommend podcasts and I would repeat that I didn't listen to podcasts. I didn't see the hype. I'm pretty picky, and I couldn't be bothered to find podcasts that I liked.

I had, however, developed enough self-awareness to know that eventually, I would absolutely succumb to the hype, it just hadn't hit me yet. When it comes to trends I'm either so on the cutting edge that I can't even find what I'm looking for (in 2016, teal and copper wedding decor was NOWHERE), or I'm years behind and will never catch up (Instagram, Game of Thrones, collagen, cropped tank tops, liking puppies, YouTube, matte lipstick, Snapchat, filters in general...).

(In case you're interested, some of the things I'm currently NOT into but expect to love in probably twelve to eighteen months are chunky white sneakers, neon colors, and meditation.)

Anyway. I've joined the podcast party, and here is what I've been listening to, ranked.

#1: Crime Junkie
Ashley Flowers discusses fascinating crimes (mostly from the United States, but sometimes international) with mysterious circumstances. Where The Conspirators (see #5) is weird stories of all types, Crime Junkie is pretty much exclusively murder and missing persons.

Good because: VERY interesting, well-researched, vary in length, include follow-up episodes if more information comes to light or if a killer is caught (!!)

However: 1) The commercials/shameless plugs are annoying, 2) very occasionally you'll get glimpses of politics that are eye-roll-inducing, 3) these girls are moderately irritating. They have enough Valley Girl ("Oh my gahd, full. body. CHILLZUHH!) in them to provoke a cold, sarcastic stare from me at times--though not enough for me to stop listening.

#2: Made for This
Jennie Allen talks about cultivating healthy, Christ-centered relationships and tackles topics like making friends, having deep conversations, setting boundaries, and breaking free from shame. The only reason this one isn't my #1 is because there aren't enough episodes to binge safely yet XD

Good because: her insights are deep and practical and Christ-centered, and she's already dropped truth bombs on me that are changing the way I think

However: The only "however" I have so far is that the variance in episode length in this podcast feels like a negative, whereas I know I gave it as a positive for Crime Junkie. Some of them are just REALLY short, like, I couldn't finish my shower before it was over XD

#3: The Woody & Wilcox Show
This has actually been the asterisk to my non-podcastism for about four years. I love this show XD It's just for fun, but it is also how Gabe and I get most of our news about the world (which is not something I'm proud of).

Good because: it's funny, they have lots of regular games, the hosts are friends IRL and you can tell, none of the hosts annoy me, they steer completely away from politics

However: it's not going to make you a better person or anything. If you rarely look at the news (like me and Gabe) or social media (like Gabe), it might be informative on occasion, but only by accident.

Fun fact: the only reason I got into other podcasts was because I went though a period of depression when I could not make myself do ANYTHING unless I used The Woody & Wilcox Show as a distraction, but their episodes are only once a day (I know, "only") and I went through them too fast when I needed like six daily hours of podcast to get me through. So I moved on and explored.

#4: The Summit
I've been listening to The Summit church's podcasts lately, and really enjoy them. They're a good way to get focused on the right things, and they provide something healthy and good for me to dwell on while I'm going about my day.

Good because: the pastors are engaging and theologically sound, and I always get something out of each episode

However: very occasionally there will be something you can't "see" in a podcast, like a prop or some students' presentation

#5: The Conspirators
Gabe's dad recommended this to me years ago before I got into podcasts. When I kept running out of WW Show, this is the first other one I tried. The host, "Nate Hale, an entirely fictional identity," takes weird and creepy stories from history and unpacks them.

Good because: it is super interesting, Nate Hale does the research for you, his narrating voice is good, he does a good job of "wrapping up" the story even though they don't usually have definite answers

However: a very few of them make me genuinely uncomfortable because of how graphic and sad they are. I had to skip "Episode 41: The Stain" and "Episode 43: The Boys on the Ice."

#6: The Balance Show
A post about Balance Athletica is coming, but the company's creators just started a podcast and I've just started to listen. It's about a variety of topics that have to do with finding yourself and finding a healthy balance in life. It's too soon for me to evaluate it well,* but here are my thoughts so far.

Good because: the hosts are kind, well-intentioned, and theoretically Christians; they address relatable and important topics

However: I might be too old to benefit from what they're doing? I think a podcast like this would've been really great in middle or maybe high school, but they haven't dropped any major revelations or truth bombs on me yet, and they feel too young to have the kind of insight they seem to believe they have.

If you have podcast recommendations...I'll take them now. But I won't make any promises about listening, because, I mean, I'm still me. Asterisks and stubbornness and pickiness and all of that.

~Stephanie

*I have evaluated The Balance Show more since I wrote this post a month or so ago, and I don't care for it much any more XD