Unrequited Love Lust Is Such Bullshit B.S.

I had a co-worker once with the initials B.S. who was incredibly brilliant. Every time he submitted remarkable work, the mantra often recited was, "that was some B.S." He hated it. We thought it was hilarious.

If you've heard of Taylor Swift, and chances are you have, then you've probably heard one of her earlier "Country" tracks written circa 2010, entitled "Love Story." Ultimately, the song is about two (what I'm guessing to be) young, star-crossed lovers who end up getting married in the end. The chorus is this cute, little, annoying refrain that reads something like this: 

"And I said

Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone

I'll be waiting, all there's left to do is run

You'll be the prince and I'll be the princess

It's a love story, baby, just say yes"

Now that that's over, let's get to the real rant of the day, entitled: Unrequited Love Is Such Bullshit. 

Seriously. We as shallow human beings who walk the face of the Earth and have for quite some time, have a problem. We look at famous pieces of literature such as Romeo and Juliet, and we think to ourselves, "two star-crossed lovers, how romantic," completely ignoring the fact that Romeo and Juliet was originally written to be labeled a tragedy. Do you know what happens in tragedies? People die! Has anyone not read or at least heard of how the story ends? SPOILER ALERT: The two commit suicide together! How crazy is that? Why, under Heaven, do we think that that story is romantic? Are we obsessed with death? Maybe, but I think the real problem might be: We romanticize what we can't have or no longer have.

We romanticize what we can't have or no longer have.

I just had to label somebody in my phone as, "Do Not Contact," because I kept romanticizing what was no longer present in my life. I had to come to a realization that in order for me to completely walk on this journey of wholeness I've been on for quite some time, I had to force my mind to physically get over the hump of what was no longer present in my life. Easy, right? 

It's about as easy as eating nails for breakfast... 

So why do we do it? Why do we romanticize what we can't have? 

The Scientific Answer: When someone breaks our heart, our brains are often clouded in dopamine, endorphins, serotonin, and oxytocin. This is why, in our minds, we keep only referring to the good times with someone and overlook the red flags that existed all along. Over time, our natural ebb and flow of the four chemicals in our brain cause a dip and rise. This is okay, because it's actually normal. We aren't supposed to be "high" all of the time. We are supposed to feel "low," as well.*** It's during the low-points in our brain's chemical makeup, though, that we experience the general feeling of heartache. In order to make the "low" feeling disappear and the "high" feeling to reappear, we often romanticize the person who hurt us, or for me it's always reaching out to the person who hurt me, to get our dopamine, endorphin, serotonin, and oxytocin levels back up. This creates a vicious cycle of - yep, you guessed it - unrequited love. 

*** I found this incredibly helpful information out in a book entitled Habits of a Happy Brain by Loretta Graziano Breuning, PhD, which you can find here.

The Actual Answer: Hollywood. As I mentioned earlier, we have a problem. Hollywood's movie industry has thrived immensely off of creating sappy, unrealistic, "romance" movies and we as society have eaten it up like that nauseating chocolate cake scene from Matilda. I think I just threw up a little... Anywho - 
For some, far-fetched reason that I will never understand, Hollywood has come up with this brilliant idea for decades that a man and woman will meet spontaneously and "fall in love." They will eventually have this YUGE (yes, I did just say "yuge.") fight that will end up in the inevitable, forthright, breakup. An indistinguishable amount of time will pass before the guy (or the girl) will ultimately stalk his unrequited lover until they finally meet again. When the two finally meet again, there will be a long, annoying, and nauseating soliloquy that will ensue about how one can't live without the other, thus ending the movie in a "they lived happily ever after," moral. Fancy, right? 

How did we not see this coming?!

What does a person expect to find after watching one of these things? I can tell you what a person can't (and shouldn't) expect to find: Actual. Love. Investment. The situation I described above is a little thing I learned in 'Nam called infatuation, i.e. good, old-fashioned lust. Now, as fun as lust is, it's not love. As fun as it is to feel the tension and chemistry with another person, it won't keep you in your marriage bed a year from now. Lust satisfies the "right now" urge. Love fuels the "now and tomorrow" mentality. 

Lust doesn't see past the "highs" and "lows" of the rising and dipping of our brain chemicals. Love powers through them all. The Bible says that love "...hopes all things, endures, all things, and believes all things" - (1 Corinthians 13, paraphrase added). Simply put: 

Ain't no other emotion gonna do that for you. 

Building a relationship on lust is like building a house on quicksand. Pretty soon, the tide is going to rise and ruin what you've built. Building on love, however, is like building a house on a firm foundation - concrete. Ain't no tide gonna rise strong enough to take that thing out, especially if it's built upon Jesus. And trust me when I say, there will be tides that will rise. Why? Because people are imperfect.

People lie.
People cheat.
People hurt other people.

Lust will run from that reality. Wanna know why? Because there's nothing sexy about those truths; and lust's greatest fuel is (sex). But love won't. 

If you've read my previous work, you know that I firmly believe in the power of love, and the firm belief I hold on to that is simply: love is a verb, not a feeling. Love is what we do, not how we feel. 

In order to bring the conversation back full circle, I return to the question: Why do we romanticize what we can't have? 

The Answer: More than this blog post being about another person and what lust and love is and isn't, the real answer lies in an identity issue we have with ourselves. We spend so much time watching Hallmark and Cinemax After Dark that we fail to see who we have truly neglected all along. Let me give you a hint: it ain't the one who broke our heart. We as a society have forgotten how to truly get to know ourselves. So because we don't know ourselves, we are so desperate to be with someone else  - who will inevitably treat us like shit - so that that person can tell us who we really are. A little secret: Nobody on this Earth can do that for you. So how do we get to know ourselves? The solution is simple (maybe not for some, such as myself).

We go back to our childhood. We rediscover what made us come alive as children, because those desires we had as children paved the way for our genetic makeup today.  For instance, I work in the legal field today because I loved to argue as a kid. I never took "no" for an answer. I have a degree in engineering because I loved fusing art with math. As a kid, I drew blueprints to fictional houses I would one day build. 

I think that, in order for us to love ourselves, it is imperative that we go back to our childhood. Then, we will know much greater things about ourselves and our identity. Then, we will discover on that great adventure who we were always destined to be. This is not only to our benefit, but for the benefit of generations to come.

Trying Too Hard, Loving Too Little, and Expecting Too Much

The song by Tim McGraw, "Humble and Kind," has really hit me recently in the heartstrings. Maybe it's because my family and I went to Nashville a little over week ago, but I find myself relating to Country music these days. Although it seems paradox as my earlier post was all about metal and the benefits thereof, it's actually not far fetched as I grew up listening to Country music as well. Not to mention that it's also true I grew up in the country riding horses. At any rate, I think this song speaks to me so well because those two attributes - humility and kindness -  are the two that I've been struggling with the most in this particular season of life. It wasn't until I was lamenting to God in the shower the other day that He revealed three things about my character I had heard before, but never fully digested. The three characteristics revealed to me were that I was 

trying too hard.

In everything I do, I seek to be the best. I'm not just talking about being the best at what I do (i.e. being the best at my particular assignment or interest), but being the. best. At work, I want to be the employee with the highest production rate and the lowest error percentage. With regards to creativity, I want to be the best at writing books, creating visual art, and writing songs. In my family, I want to be the one who is always the kindest, most thoughtful, and even smartest person. With regards to the LSAT, I want to be the candidate who gets the highest score. I want to be accepted into the best law school. And on. And on. And on. 

Why is this important?

While all of the aforementioned desires to be the best at are true, this revelation about myself was particularly important because, at the time, I was lamenting to God about a breakthrough in a relationship. More than anything, I wanted to be the woman that won this particular man's heart. I wanted to be the best at proving to him that I can be the woman he's been searching for. I can cook. I can clean. I can be responsible. And witty. And intelligent. And a joy to be around. I can be the One. 

What did I learn from this experience?

While this experience isn't over yet, I'm learning now that God sees me as the best. He sees me as the best not because of anything that I've done or have yet to do, but He sees me as the best because I'm His daughter. He uniquely created me. I'm unlike anyone else, and because of that, I am the best.

What can you learn from my experience?

God doesn't love His children equally. That's right, I said it. Read it again: God doesn't love His children equally. He loves them uniquely. This is something I'm learning from Lisa Bevere's devotionals from her book, "Without Rival." Because God fashioned you uniquely - how you look, dress, act, speak, even how your heart functions (both physically and proverbially) - God doesn't love you like He loves your spouse. Or your child. Or your best friend. God loves you like He loves you. And He loves your spouse, your child, and your best friend like He loves them.

The next characteristic God highlighted to me was that I was 

loving too little.
It's always hard for me to admit the fact that I don't love like I should. I can see that I don't show love to those around me when I ignore them, act catty with them, or don't ask them about their overall wellbeing. I can see how I don't love myself when I beat myself up over my shortcomings, like how much I weigh and the fact that I'm not doing anything to change that. I can see though, how much different my love for God is. It's so easy to love Him. He's so faithful, so true. Just. except...

When I don't love other people, I am not loving God.  

Why is this important?

Jesus says over and over in HIs word how important loving other people is. According to Him, the world will know we are Christians by how well we love other people. When we aren't loving Him, we aren't loving others because God is love. Love isn't something God does. Love is who God is.

What did I learn from this experience?

Simply: loving too little will make you feel alone. Last night, I cried all over my sweet friend Elizabeth's shirt because I felt completely alone and isolated from any community. My fear-filled words were: "I'm afraid I'm going to die alone." 

Having her loving arms physically hold me together while she prayed over me and spoke the truth of how beautiful and deep God thinks I am, was the most loving gesture I've received from Heaven in a very long time. I can't wait to pass that on.

What can you learn from my experience?

Loving too little will isolate you faster than being stranded on a desert island. Don't let the enemy trick you into thinking that your relationship with God and your intimate, quiet, alone times with the Lord are enough to sustain you. Yes, it is true that God is good and that His grace is sufficient. It is also true that His strength is made perfect in your weakness. It is even more true that He is always with you and He promises never to forsake you. But, do not forget that it is just as true that God did not create us to live life alone. If you have a community, embrace the people in it. If you're looking for a community, be specific in asking God what kind of community your heart desires. I promise He'll answer your prayer.

The third and final characteristic God revealed about myself was that I was

expecting too much.
Similar to loving too little, expecting too much will also isolate you faster than being stranded on a desert island. In this particular lament, I was complaining to God about how I felt like I wasn't being pursued in the right way by a man. When God made me aware of the fact that I was expecting too much, it was as if He was communicating to me, "you cannot hold other people to standards only I can fulfill."  This doesn't just apply to men, but to all we surround ourselves with.

Why is this important?

Simply: people aren't big enough to fill the God-sized holes in our hearts. They just aren't and they never will be. Just as we hold others to unrealistic expectations, it is also true that we hold ourselves to unrealistic expectations as well. To that, I will say the same: You (I) are (am) not big enough to fill the God-sized hole in your (in my) heart. You (I'm) just aren't (not) and you (I) never will be. We can only let the rope go so far. It has to end at some point.

What did I learn from this experience?

It's not fair nor is it wise to expect the world from a person. After all, God is the Creator of the Universe - not my man or any man.

What can you learn from my experience?

Grace, grace, and more grace. If we are to love and live like Jesus does and did, we have to clothe ourselves in humility and count others as more significant than ourselves. We have to raise others up so we can be raised up with Jesus at the proper time. 

It is our responsibility to walk around as an open Heaven everywhere we go.

I encourage you all to listen to the song, "Humble and Kind," by Tim McGraw, and really listen to it. Sit back with your eyes closed and breathe it in. If you're a visual receiver like I am, below are the lyrics.

Be blessed and have a very Happy Thanksgiving!

You know there's a lot that goes by the front door
Don't forget the keys under the mat
Childhood stars shine, always stay humble and kind
Go to church 'cause your momma says to
Visit grandpa every chance that you can
It won't be a waste of time
Always stay humble and kind

Hold the door say please say thank you
Don't steal, don't cheat, and don't lie
I know you got moutains to climb but
Always stay humble and kind
When the dreams you're dreamin' come to you
When the work you put in is realized
Let yourself feel the pride but
Always stay humble and kind

Don't expect a free ride from no one
Don't hold a grudge or a chip and here's why
Bitterness keeps you from flying
Always stay humble and kind
Know the difference between sleeping with someone
And sleeping with someone you love
I love you ain't no pick up line so
Always stay humble and kind

Hold the door say please say thank you
Don't steal, don't cheat, and don't lie
I know you got moutains to climb but
Always stay humble and kind
When those dreams you're dreamin' come to you
When the work you put in is realized
Let yourself feel the pride but
Always stay humble and kind

When it's hot, eat a root beer, a popsicle
Shut off the AC and roll the windows down
Let that summer sun shine
Always stay humble and kind
Don't take for granted the love this life gives you
When you get where you're goin'
Don't forget turn back around
Help the next one in line
Always stay humble and kind

The LSAT, The Election, And The Struggle For Popularity

I've been super busy, lately. Mostly, I've been numbing myself from the real world because what's happening in this present hour is just too painful to look at. My struggles aren't unlike anyone else's. My coping mechanisms, though, are debatable. But, in any event, I'll just let you all in on what's been going on, lately:


 The LSAT.
Oh, my God. For those of you who aren't aware, the LSAT stands for the Law School Admissions Test. Coupled with the school application, the LSAT is 1/2 of the determining factor of one's acceptance into law school. Studying for this thing has been total chaos. On top of working 30 hours a week, I may get to study about 2 hours a day. This, of course, isn't ideal because if a remarkably high score is the goal (160-170), then one must study approximately 8 hours a day. Not to mention the LSAT, in order to be done well, needs to be studied for, for about a solid 3-6 months. So, if we calculate 40 hours * 5 days (excluding weekends) *  (however many days in a month - 2) * 6... we get: A WHOLE FREAKIN LOT OF HOURS I NEED TO STUDY.

And I've done maybe .125 of that.

On top of this, I'm also trying to successfully change jobs as I've just finished Paralegal School and successfully move to Washington, D.C. Therefore, as imagined, I'm very stressed out about this particular part of life.

As if that weren't enough, we have

The Election.
Donald Trump is now our President-Elect. I have to admit that I'm still baffled that Trump won the Election with all of the disparaging comments he made with regards to women, the disabled, immigrants, and more. But, I'm not surprised. I think Middle America was ready for a change. How much of a change we are going to receive has yet to be determined. I think that Donald Trump really pulled off some genius, cutthroat, Game of Thrones strategy, though. Think about it. 

The guy is married to an immigrant. He has women working for him within his Multinational Corp (which I'm sure some undocumented workers helped construct), and he lived in New York City. It's hard to be racist, sexist, and a bigot in NYC - no matter how red-to-blue the state turns every election cycle. Honestly, I think that Trump's platform was solely intended to be aimed at the small town, small-minded, Middle Americans who were so ready for a change that they ate every campaign slogan of Trump's up like they hadn't been fed in weeks. 

I really think that Trump's campaign promises were too radical to withstand Congressional approval, yet alone too radical to pass via Executive Order. Furthermore, I don't think that Trump honestly believed a single word that came out of his mouth. I think he just wanted to play the game and win, regardless of his own convictions. 

And he did. 

And here we are. 

My third point, and the one in which I want to spend the majority of my post writing about, because I think it's the one that's most relatable is

The Struggle For Popularity.
O.K. surely I'm not the only one who posts things on social media for attention, amirite? In our like-based culture, we have been conditioned to feed ourselves off of every "like" on our Instagram and Facebook post, and every retweet and reblog on Twitter and Tumblr. So SURELY I'm not the only one who dies a little inside each time my posts receive minimal attention. And surely I'm not the only one who dies a little each time I scroll down to see other "friends" of mine receiving literally 100+ likes on each of their posts, no matter how mundane. 

I mean, I'm not the only one, right?

If any of you are like me, then you probably feel less significant with every popular post you scroll past on your News Feed. In our media-filled culture, it's easy to confuse the lines of social media reality with actual reality. This is where reading Scripture will help. 

God so clearly spoke to me today when I was lamenting to Him about not being popular on the Internet. He simply said, 

"Christen, I don't need you to be popular. I need you to be faithful." 

I'd be lying on the virtual page right now if I said I had been radically changed and my perspective totally shifted with that statement. I'd also be lying if I said that I didn't have my own personal rebuttal with which to challenge God [I did]. 

But what about what God has to say? What about what He's already said about us & our identity in Him? Like,

"You didn't choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you could go and produce fruit and so that fruit could last." - John 15:16

"But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people who are God's own possession. You have become this people so that you may speak of the wonderful acts of the one who called you out of the darkness into his amazing light." - 1 Peter 2:9

"Yet to all who did receive Him, to those who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God..." John 1:12

"For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and in Christ you have been brought to fullness. He is the head over every power and authority." - Colossians 2:9-10

"But whoever is united with the Lord is united with Him in Spirit." - 1 Corinthians 6:17

"For we know that our old self was crucified with Him so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin..." - Romans 6:6

"Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you. Before you were born, I set you apart. I appointed you as a prophet to the nations." - Jeremiah 1:5

"For all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female; for you are all on in Christ Jesus." - Galatians 3:27-28

"Since then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God." - Colossians 3:1-3

When we allow the words of God to soak into our mind, heart, soul, body, and spirit, we start to become the image of God - the Imago Dei. When we start to walk out the fact that we are made in the very image of God Himself, all of the social media 'likes' fall by the wayside. All of our worries and trying way too hard to get our significant others or our wannabe significant others to notice and appreciate us become less of a priority and more of a byproduct of faithfulness; because, you see, when you are faithful to God, He is always faithful to you. 

So as much as it hurts to see that one friend who is an amazing singer, has three albums with her voice on it, has a platform at your church, and just seems to always have a Godly attitude no matter what, receive over 400 likes on her Instagram or Facebook, you know not to be shaken. That's because you realize that your identity isn't in how great you are in what you do, but who and Whose you are.

Therefore, I don't have to be upset that nobody is reading my book, that my social media posts aren't popular, and that I'm not leading worship right now. Most importantly, I don't have to be upset that my love interest isn't doing jack diddily about john duddily. Why? 

Because I belong to Jesus.

He's my source. He's my identity. In Him flows streams of Living Water; and my life is like channels of Living Water in the palm of His hands. As long as I am hidden in the blood of Jesus Christ, I will never go without. 

Neither will you. 

I wonder what it would be like if none of us had social media. I wonder how much more like Jesus we would look and behave like if we weren't so obsessed and compulsive with how many 'likes' we receive on our pictures of our face from this hundredth different angle and of our super-hipster, on fleek organic salad we made, hand-picked from our own greenhouse. I think we would be more like the Church that Jesus prayed and taught about without social media. Don't misunderstand, social media can be an amazing evangelism tool. But how many of us are actually doing that? 

Imagine the remarkable change the world would see in the Church if we all deleted our social media. 

Maybe that's what we should do.

Halloween, Other Heavy Metal Shenanigans, And Why You Shouldn't Yell At Your Kids For Wearing All Black.

Here's a little unknown fact about me (when I say unknown, I mean most of my close friends and family know this, but others do not.): I. LOVE. HEAVY. METAL. I also love Halloween. So last night I combined those two things and attended the Saints and Sinners Ball hosted by Radio 105.7 (Atlanta's alternative radio station). I wasn't there long because it was crowded and hot, and I was hungry, but I loved it. I had my picture taken with Aly, a D.J. for the radio station. Her main segment is called Under the Covers With Aly - a segment in which she plays nothing but cover songs from famous alternative bands. So naturally, she was wearing her bed costume. Naturally, I am wearing the darkest purple lipstick I could get my hands on.

The band I was wanting to see so badly was Bear Hands. They did not disappoint, especially with my favorite song of theirs, Loving You More. The opening, lesser known band Kiev was surprisingly better in my opinion. I was thoroughly impressed. Foals was the last band to play, although I did not give myself the privilege of listening to them, due to the aforementioned crowded, hot, and hungry circumstances. 

At any rate, my love for heavy metal and mostly dark, twisted, and ghoulish material comes as a surprise to most. For one, I'm tiny. Apparently in order to enjoy heavy metal, one must pass a height requirement. That excuse has always confounded me. The second excuse people say when I sheepishly admit I love heavy metal is "I never guessed you for the heavy metal type," as if because of my introverted and polite nature, people take me for a Country girl, or worse - a Pop fan girl. Nonetheless, my love for heavy metal has always prevailed, and started as a result of "finding myself" my sophomore year of high school which started as a result of meeting my biological sister for the first time. More on that later. 

Here are 5 reasons why I love heavy metal and more broadly, alternative music.

1) Heavy metal and alternative bands are so honest.

Think about it: what other genre writes with such true-to-yourself conviction? One of the number one reasons why the heavy metal/alternative/punk scene has flourished so much since the 90's is because, I think, the artists are real. Real in their lyrics, and more importantly, real off-stage as well as on-stage. 

2) Heavy metal and alternative bands are wonderful to their fans.

In 2010, I went to see Circa Survive play at the Masquerade (a 3-level, Afterlife-themed, concert venue in Atlanta). On top of having the best spot in the venue (right against the stage next to the corner speaker) and getting to crowd-surf and stand on stage next to Anthony Green (the lead singer), but afterward I got to meet the band. And yes, Anthony Green is as wonderful off-stage as he is on-stage. His reassuring statement of "I don't give a shit," when I apologized for taking so many pictures with him was as medicinal as it was effervescent. To this day, that concert remains one of my favorite experiences.

3) Heavy metal and alternative bands have THE MOST loyal fan bases.

Probably due to the authenticity of the band members as well as their lyrics, heavy metal and alternative bands have the most loyal fan bases. I think this is largely because most of the lyrics are relatable. Most of the lyrics involve everyday struggles, conflicts, and emotions. As a result, heavy metal and alternative artists strive to help their fans in this way. I can't tell you how many times Simple Plan's "Welcome To My Life," and Hawthorne Heights, "Ohio is for Lovers," helped me through my emotional and overly dramatic sophomore and junior years of high school. 

The reason why I let it medicate my soul so much was, because, I felt like the lyrics were written specifically for me. And so did other people. While in the company of other people who also enjoyed heavy metal and alternative music, I ended up having incredibly meaningful conversations and ended up building incredibly meaningful friendships with these other fans. Conversations like: 

"Oh, you struggle with (insert addiction-based, self-mutilating, whether psychological, physical or emotional, behavior here) too? I get that." 

"Your parents divorced as well, huh? You don't say."

"Oh, thank God I'm not the only one who thinks in a certain way that's different from my peers. I thought something was wrong with my mind." 

"Wow, you're having a hard time discovering what you believe about God and the Afterlife, too? I'm so relieved to find out I'm not alone." 

Ultimately, these issues have long since been resolved in my life. However, these are some of the staple comments that were made during conversations in high school during those formative years of high school that I had with fellow fans of heavy metal and alternative music. Because these lyrics were so raw, authentic, and relatable, the heavy metal and alternative community felt as if they also could be raw, authentic, and relatable with each other, too. Camaraderie sure had its place. Sounds like a win to me.

4) Heavy metal and alternative bands are also honest about their stories.

One of my favorite musician testimony is the testimony of Korn's lead guitarist Brian "Head" Welch, as he journeyed from being one of the famous heavy metal musicians in history to finding Jesus. You can read his story here.  I first heard his story on the documentary-style film, Holy Ghost. It's nothing short of phenomenal.

5) All black, everything.

It's no surprise to anyone that heavy metal and alternative bands and fans alike are enamored with wearing all black, all the time. I'm not sure where or how the culture staple got started. If any of you know, feel free to comment below. Perhaps wearing all black creates solidarity within the heavy metal and alternative community. At any rate, black is my absolute favorite color (actually, non-color for those of us who are Physics taught) in my wardrobe. It's also such a simple color. The heavy metal and alternative community was smart to pick black as their solidarity color. I mean it goes with everything...

***********************************************************************

Well that was fun. What I want to briefly talk about before I let you go, is this: 

Parents, please stop making a big commotion over your children wearing all black.

I remember when I first started wearing black in high school. First, out came the dark black, heavy eyeliner. I mean, seriously. I applied so much under my eyelids, I looked like a hungover, stargazed teenager who had just gotten high for infinity. The actual truth was that I never did any drugs nor did I ever drink any alcohol during high school. Instead, I played a lot of sports and was involved in marching band. 

Second, out came the gradual all black, everything wardrobe. Needless to say, my mother had a fit. She didn't understand what was happening to me. She treated my all black obsession as well as my heavy metal and alternative preference as though it were a disease. No joke, this was part of the reason I was put into therapy my junior year of high school. 

At any rate, through all of my feelings of being misunderstood as a teenager, I want to share this word of wisdom to parents. Parents, if your child has decided to wear all black, and listen to heavy metal and alternative music, he/she has nothing "wrong" with him/her. He/she is not diseased. 

Rather, he/she has most likely found a community that not only provides solidarity and support, but also values him/her for who they are and accepts their humanity. Do you know how rare those traits are to find in a community nowadays? 

The church my parents and I went to as a teenager was very conservative. A few of my friends at church were into the all black, heavy metal and alternative community as well. I'll never forget hearing my then youth pastor and one mom of a youth group member talking about how she was worried about her daughter because her daughter decided to dress in all black. My youth pastor was admonishing this young woman's mother for slipping in colored clothes into her all black wardrobe. The hope was to eventually weed out all of the black clothes by replacing them with colorful clothes all the time. This was not only deceptive; it was cruel and devaluing to her daughter. The message she was sending was "you're only good enough to earn my pride when you're wearing colorful clothing," I distinctly remember cringing when my youth pastor referred to this behavior as "breaking her (the daughter) of it (wearing all black)," as if wearing all black was the equivalent of snorting cocaine on the reg. 

Now, I'm not a parenting expert, nor do I play one on TV, but as a teenager who grew up in a conservative, misunderstanding culture, I'll say this:

Your child should be celebrated for who they are and what they like, even if that means that they are a different person with different interests than what you hoped they would be/have. In fact, you should probably admonish your child for being involved in a heavy metal and alternative music community probably because:

1. your child is being supported

2. your child is making friends

3. your child is not alone and doesn't have to feel alone in the world

4. your child is loved -> by you, and by their community

By accepting what we don't understand, we promote tolerance, love, and respect. Your children need that from you in their formative years more than ever. Please don't misunderstand, if the community your child is involved in deals with drugs, alcohol, or self-destructive/community destructive behavior, then by all means, remove them from that particular community. But don't miss the forest for the trees (or however that sentiment goes). Don't associate all black and the heavy metal and alternative music community with the bad sub-communities. By learning to accept what we don't understand, we can be a people who generate love, kindness, and compassion to all people, and in return, generate love, kindness, and compassion to ourselves. That's the kind of world we want to live in, right?

Rock On.

The Goodness: How to Remain Patient in Your [Painful] Singleness

I don't know about you, but I find that God speaks to me through music. I guess it's because I'm a musician and a worship leader. I guess it's because of all the endorphins released when music is played, like oxytocin and serotonin. But most importantly, I believe it's because God moves to the sound of our worship. Like a pleased Papa, he sways to our worship of him. Anyway, what I really wanted to talk about is the goodness.

The goodness can mean a lot of different things to a lot of different people. Maybe for some the goodness is being surrounded by the ones that you love. For others, it may be soaking up those few and far between alone hours. I'm in a particularly hectic season right now. I work 30+ hours a week as an insurance Claims Coordinator. I create, edit, and revise approximately 30-60 claims per day. Some I write myself, but mostly I'm reviewing fellow team members' work and coaching them on how to do their very best work. I'm also taking an 84-hour accelerated Paralegal Studies course at the University of Georgia. It's basically like going through a whole graduate semester in eight weeks. All for what, a certificate of completion so that I can work in the legal field once I'm finished. To say that the goodness for my life at this very moment would be for me to soak up those few and far between alone hours would be an awful understatement.

But also, the goodness also brings something else to my mind in this season of my life. This particular piece of goodness carries a profound overtone of sadness with it. A sadness because this piece of the goodness is currently missing from my life. A sadness because I want so badly to have this piece of the goodness to complete my life, yet I'm stuck without it. 
Yes, stuck. That's just how I feel. 

I'll be 28 at the end of this year. That's 196 in dog years and a thousand in Old Maid years. In society, single [men] and women are treated like the diseased. We don't get invited out. We don't get mentored by the cool, older, married couples. Instead, we get tossed aside; left to mingle with other forever single people to be mentored by cool, older, forever single adults. And because everyone is so damned afraid of commitment these days in order to oblige to the FOMO syndrome we are all addicted to, it's no wonder nobody is getting hooked. We're all just hooking up, instead.

I'll admit, I always looked down on forever single older women. I always pitied them, felt sorry for them. I thought, what's so satisfying about spending all of your time alone? What's so satisfying about never HAVING SEX? I pitied them because I thought they were missing out life's most beautiful gift to humanity. I pitied them because they had to face the agony of loneliness and also the burning desire of wanting to have sexual needs filled with no [healthy, appropriate] outlet. But most of all, I pitied them because deep down in the darkest recesses of my soul, I was absolutely terrified of it happening to me. 

And it has.

So what am I doing in the meantime to "trust God?" Moreover, what does it fully mean to "trust God" in this season of my life? 

It means that I have to embrace the gnawing pain in the pit of my stomach when I kiss little hands and feet that aren't mine. I have to embrace the heartache of knowing I have to give precious little boys and girls back to their respective moms and dads when I've just spent all day playing with them because their parents grew tired of them and just wanted one minute to themselves. It means that I get to silently resent said parents for wanting time away from these precious gifts from God when there are women like me who are dying [inside] from the nagging thoughts of "this may never happen for me." It means that I have to stifle back steaming, hot tears from knowing that the decisions I made in early adulthood, which led to decisions made on my behalf against my consent have more-than-likely caused me to never be able to conceive a child. "This will never happen for me," doesn't become a passing thought. It becomes a mantra.

It means that I have to smile and pretend every part of my life feels whole and complete, even though I know that no worthy man thinks I'm fit to be his queen. It means that while everyone around me [it seems] is holding hands, getting engaged, and planning weddings, I get to twiddle my thumbs, engage in introverted activities alone in my room, and plan my meals and outfits for the next week. "This is the goodness," I think to myself, "this is as good as it's going to get." 

But I'm conflicted. Because, on the other hand -- 

It means that I get to sleep all across the bed without worrying that I'm suffocating anyone. It means that I get to eat all of the chocolate, french fries, and pizza without having to say "no, you can only have just one." It means that I get to go wherever I want, whenever I want. It means that I get to be successful at shattering glass ceilings by myself without having to "one-up" my partner within the replies of, "how was your day?" It means that if I want to take off to Italy for a year, I get to take off to Italy for a year. It means that I get to eat all of the Halloween candy without trick-or-treating for it. Or, if I want to trick-or-treat, it's okay if I do because I still look twelve, and therefore, no reasonable adult would question why a full-grown adult would be trick-or-treating at this stage in life. "This is the goodness," I think to myself, "this is as good as it's going to get." 

Moreover, it means that in the eyes of God, I am a prize. I am THE Prize he bought with the price He paid. It means that I don't have to be a man's queen because I am the Queen of Heaven (I know this because this has been prophesied over me a couple different times from a couple different people). It means that while I'm not tied down to the financial, sexual, emotional, and physical well-being of another person, I am free to serve God in so many vast ways. In so many, many places. Heaven is the limit. 

But there's still a longing.

And to tell you the truth, the longing will never go away. It will always stay there. Even when [NOT if]  I get married and have children, the longing will still exist. But instead, it'll be a longing for Heaven. For my real home with my real Father. 

So, in the meantime...

I keep hogging the whole bed and eating all the food. I keep shattering glass ceilings. I keep playing kickball with the little boys and drinking tea with the little girls. I keep counting little fingers and little toes and inwardly lament upon returning them. I keep eating all of the Halloween candy and trick-or-treating at age 28 because, "this is the goodness," I think to myself, "and this is as good as it's going to get." 

An (Inconsistent) Intro

I have always been driven by doing the right thing. I've always taken, "the high road." When the going got tough, I was always the one who kept it going. This mentality has been evidenced by my paying for (almost) the entirety of my University career (minus my Senior year, because who in the world raises tuition by 5 times over the course of one summer?). This has also been evidenced by my hyper people-pleasing persona, by going above and beyond to take care of those around me while at the same time always neglecting myself. But most importantly, this has been evidenced by my unwavering, and perhaps overly pious, Christian faith. 

My faith has always been a blessing and a curse to my analytical reasoning. A blessing because when life kicks your face in the mud, the only sensible thing to do would be to rise up. A blessing in the fact that I've used my faith as a foundation, a sounding board, and a diving board for every house I make, song I write, and body of water I jump into in life. My inner monologue usually goes something like, "do I want to take my lunch to work today or do I want a double cheeseburger from McDonald's? Well what would Jesus have done in this situation?" A blessing because I've been gifted with an incredible fount of knowledge and can believe in things like science and religion at the same time and still feel like a grounded, intelligent human being. A blessing because my faith has allowed me to stand out and stand (inner) strong among my peers. I'm the go-to for advice. I'm the go-to for support and comfort. I'm the one who always has the right thing to say at just the right time. I'm the one who loves love and who wants to create warriors out of weaklings. As an introvert, I'm really starting to hate that... In fact, my faith is so important to me that I wrote an entire book about it which I self-published and sold on Amazon. You can buy it here.

A curse because I get caught up dreaming about what could be instead of what actually is. A curse* because I feel an overwhelming tidal wave of guilt every time I say, "god damn it" out of frustration, even though it feels really fucking good to swear. A curse because I fight so hard to hear the voice of God and cry angry tears every time I'm forced to wait on something good. But more than any of these things, my faith is without a doubt my favorite part of Me. 

When I need direction, faith is like an intimate lover whom I can lean on and cuddle with. Who guides me and instructs me and always keeps me accountable. My friend.

*pun not intended, although still pretty clever

My justification for explaining in semi-odd detail is, in a way, to tease the segue into the reason why I've decided to write this (messy) not-so-thought-out, and most certainly inconsistent blog. Although deeply inspired by the book, "Not That Kind of Girl" by Lena Dunham, which you can buy here, my main focus in writing this blog is two-fold. 

First, because "Not That Kind of Girl," is truly a remarkable read. The book will make you feel for the feminine population as well as help you find your own voice as a female - which leads me to my second fold. 

Second, because now that I've found my voice, I choose not to be silent any longer. I'm not talking about the kind of voice that breaks the silence by shouting, "I'VE BEEN TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF BY THE SYSTEM AND I'M GONNA GET EVEN BY BEING ANGRY ALL THE TIME whichwillthenallowmetopostpassiveaggressivesubtweetsinexcesstoprovejusthowangryexhaustedandoverititrulyam." 

Seriously, we've all met those "feminists." 

But rather, the idea of breaking the silence with bravery. Breaking the silence by telling my story. Breaking the silence by finally speaking up about the injustice I've endured simply because I am a woman. And, in return, rallying around other women and encouraging them, because yes, you are just that beautiful. You are just that strong. And Sweetheart, you are worth more than any act of selfishness intended to cause you pain ever was. 

I want to be a sounding board for women. I want to be the one who goes running wildly through the avalanche of fiery darts that the world tries to fling because of its intimidation of a world dominated by women causes it severe anxiety and rage. 

I want to do so with love. And, I must warn you that, just as the title suggests, the content of this blog will be very inconsistent. One day I may choose to discuss the injustice I've endured. The next day I may choose to talk about my love for the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, while over-using too many Bible verses. And then over the weekend, I may choose to write an overly-dramatic monologue with way too many swear words because I've had a bad day.

Talk about being on your period.

Why? Because this is real life, and real life ought to be shared - with no strings attached and no restraint. The world has kept me small** long enough, and I refuse to diminish quietly into the background, joining the circulation of atoms buzzing through the atmosphere. 

**I say small in a serious but humorous way because I am, in fact, only 4"11.

I bade adieu to professionalism; I'm going for it.

I write in hopes that I'll inspire, motivate, and protect even more by sharing my experiences. If that ends up being the case, I welcome you. This may not be for everyone. Someone always has something to say, regardless of how powerful, inappropriate, or trite. I welcome that too. 

The world has had enough angry women. I choose to be one that loves. I hope you will be, too. 

But hey, if you don't and you want to continue to sit at home and postpassiveaggressivesubtweetsinexcesstoprovejusthowangryexhastedandoverityouare then hey - who am I to judge?