Career Goals: Why it took me eight years to figure out what I want.

This year, has been very moving for me, personally. I am experiencing a holistic growth spurt. What I mean by that, is that I've been experiencing growth in many aspects of my life and I must say that I don't think I've been handling it very well. At least, in my mind. Many people say I am way too hard on myself and maybe that's true and maybe outwardly, I've been able to conduct myself almost wholly sane, but inside I feel like my whole chest and brain are about to explode into a million pieces of pink confetti. But... I can altogether say that all of this is good. The fire has left me more refined. At least in the way of unpacking and sorting through more of my baggage. I feel like crap for the attitude of my heart this last year but I am thrilled about the layers that have been stripped away from me over the course of it.

      I think that learning more about my hurts and scars and finally having the guts to look at them has helped me be more authentic. I just want to be honest, even if that means sharing things that make me uncomfortable. Digging through all of this crap has opened my eyes about a lot of things, especially pertaining to my marriage and other relationships. It has made me more aware of myself, who I want to be, and how to get there. I'm still struggling but I don't think that's ever going to go away. As long as I keep fighting.

     I didn't really mean for this post to be super introspective; all I really wanted to talk about was finally being able to commit to something as far as my career is concerned. But I have a lot on my plate at the moment plus I think it all ties in. My past has sort of made me commitment-phobic and finally taking a good long look at where I came from seems to be helping me make more sense of where I am going.

      With that said, I have taken steps to finally go after a career that I can be proud of and excited to get up for everyday. I've started an application to Penn State to finish my undergrad in Advertising/Public Relations and Strategic Communications. It sounds fancy, but I'll basically just be working with businesses to make sure their interactions with the public and other businesses is squeaky clean, creative, well thought out and perfectly executed. I'll also have the chance (and I fully plan on taking the opportunity) to work freelance to create any copy that businesses might need. Pamphlets, newsletters, website copy, logos, etc.

      It might sound boring to some but I like to learn and I like to write. I also like to convince people of my point and what is a copywriter but a salesman behind a typewriter? I feel really good about this and I feel like it's going to help quell my insatiable appetite for new projects because I'll always get to work with someone different with something different to bring to the table.

       I know that I've been through a lot of perspective careers since I graduated from high school, but as I said to my aunt in a  text recently, "I may not be the kind of girl that needed to spend months and months looking for the perfect wedding gown, but I needed to make sure that my career was a good fit." I bought my wedding dress in five minutes. That's not even an exaggeration. I saw it in the store, tried it on, rung it up. I was only going to wear it for ONE day. What did it matter? And seeing that my wedding day was more for the benefit of our loved ones, I was a little cavalier about the whole thing. However, a career... something that I had to go to everyday, spend time educating myself about, tying my life around... That was very difficult for me. I had really cold feet when it came to nailing something down for myself. Also, I'd be the only one to blame if I hated it. So, I spent a ton of time.... 8 years, to be precise, foraying into different paths. Convincing myself of why each new endeavor was a good fit. I don't know if I ever stopped to take time to just listen to my instincts.

       This time, it feels right. As I said, I've been cleaning proverbial house and I've been quiet long enough to hear what is inside of my soul and the song is getting lighter.

My heart experienced a revolution...

        In a surprising mixture of reflecting on the past year of my life and taking some unexpected wisdom from a John Lennon documentary I recently watched, I realized something about myself that may be the deepest, darkest, most messed thing about me... besides the unanimous fact that I am a person and we are all messed up and lost... my particular brand of gross is that I am so very lonely.

         Even though I have friends, family that loves me and a husband that is pretty understanding and forgiving of all the crap I bring to our marriage. It's my own fault that I am lonely. I play a cat and mouse game with myself. I start relationships with people and I desire nothing but to be chased and wanted by them. I want to feel desired and cherished. And the moment I reel them in, I slam the door in their face. Because even though I want to be understood, loved, and connected... Sadly, I am afraid of anything real. I've been hurt... a lot... by people I've trusted... and I know everyone has.... but I let myself stop truly living because of it. I never really got over not being loved by my father. It probably sounds trite, it happens to a lot of girls... I tried to shove it down and move on, but it has used up more of my life force than I'd like to admit.

         What's sad is even though I took a step and committed to my man on paper, I've had one foot out the door the entire time. I've been running my entire life. Just waiting for someone to mess up and give me an excuse to flee for my life. Being married has made it more difficult to pack up and leave, but I've been keeping a tally until I have big enough pile to push me out the door. What I realized about my marriage today, in realizing this about myself, is that I can't truly expect anything from Kyle if I don't know what I want from him myself. I keep asking him to do things in circles. Come closer, give me space, be more, be less, grow up, don't be so intense. I'm driving him crazy. I'm driving myself crazy. I'm not saying he's perfect, but I'm not giving him any room or grace to grow. I'm not giving that grace to myself either. I can't keep looking back or grimmacing as I move forward because I'm afraid I'm going to get punched in the face again and again... I have to live right now. I have to start seeing that he's here. He hasn't gone anywhere.

         It's going to take me a long time to heal over my past. But I'm grateful that I even have the desire to heal. That I want to make amends, be genuine, kind, raw, real and connected. I love my husband. I want to keep loving him. Today I realize that means learning to love myself enough to let my heart heal. I don't know what else to say. Writing this, I'm admittedly crying, but I think it's a good thing. I think it's a new beginning for me. And thank God for new beginnings.

The Brightest Lights; freedom

I've been grieving a bit. I know considering the date, my civic duty should be to talk about how the grief is still heavy from the events of more than a decade ago. I still care and I still feel it, but my pain at current is for the pieces of myself I have let be buried under the explosion of my life. The person I am is trying to escape the rubble. She's been clawing and scrapping to be set free and I've been suffocating her. I've been trying to be pragmatic for longer than I can even try to point a finger at. The problem, for me anyway, with pragmatism is that I don't feel real feelings when I'm sensibly picking out classes for a career I don't really want anything to do with. Or deciding to stay home from a spontaneous road trip in favor of saving gas money. Or not going on a mission trip because that money could be mortgage money.

I used to love music. Almost more than anything else. I used to measure my life by songs. And sometimes, in the most inappropriate moments, melodic words want to bubble out of my throat.

I never used to feel more alive than when my pants were dirty with paint and there was charcoal and clay underneath my finger nails.

The only thing I've ever really done consistently is write. I have a bin full of journals that I used to work through my life with. I crave words. They are the currency that my soul thrives on. It's all that I want from anyone, more than anything. It is my love language.

I don't even care anymore how I got to a place where I'm not doing these things. I just want to change. Right now. I am no longer the woman who does things she doesn't want to do or acts like someone she's not.

I am a writer. I am an artist. I am a lover of music. I am alive.

Don't be normal: Letting go of falling in line, caring what people think, and taking off ideals that don't fit.

I'll do what I want.

It sounds willful and defiant. Like it's falling out of the mouth of a child. And as I say that, I stop and wonder why that's such a bad thing in context to how I feel now. I will do anything I want. As an adult, I've fallen in line with everyone else for way too long because that's what I thought I was "supposed" to do. I'm excellent at being submissive to the ideals of our culture and yet, I disagree with most of it. Which has in turn, made me miserable. I wrote a post similar to this on a different blog, regarding my faith and how it is the thing I cherish most in life but I don't show it very often because I fear what others will think about me.

So far in my life, it has gotten me nowhere, caring what other people think. It has gotten me nowhere but at breakneck speed. This is MY life, darn it. I don't know if I deserve it if I let anyone other than myself and God influence my decisions. Why do I cringe to myself every time I have a new business idea? Because the thought of sharing it yet again, for people to think how flighty and indecisive I am and how my career has been after me for ages to get married and I just can't commit. So what?! I wouldn't settle down with any old guy, I don't know why people expect me to settle down with any old career. I have standards. Another puzzling thing I seem to care about is my perceived intelligence. I have been in gifted classes and on the honor roll since the third grade. Stabilized IQ scores have been called into question, but it was high enough last time I was tested, that I can consider applying to Mensa. I come from a family of certifiable geniuses. My ability to use context clues and pick up on things that most people miss or don't want to admit is undeniable. Why do I freaking care if anyone thinks otherwise?! The million business ideas? ONE OF THEM IS GOING TO STICK ONE DAY AND MY BRAIN WILL BE THE BRAIN THAT THOUGHT IT UP.

So what if I wanted a blue wedding dress or that I want to have pink hair most of the time. Who the hell cares if I don't enjoy being a homeowner and would rather live in a studio or loft and be a minimalist!? What does it matter to anyone else if I fantasize about traveling around the country in a camper, gypsy style?? I have experienced "normal" and it made me so miserable, that I've been depressed and nearly suicidal.

Excuse me if I no longer feel like working at a job I HATE to pay for things that I don't even want because that's "what I'm supposed to do". From now on, I will do what I want.

"Happiness isn't a real emotion...It's a generalization of positive feedback emotions that exist as a reward for overcoming adversity"

This. weekend. has. been. THE. most emotionally draining couple of days in recent history. I'm kind of at a loss for where to begin explaining. I learned a lot about myself. Stuff I never realized and things that scare the hell out of me.

It all started Friday night, with an argument I got into with Kyle. Things escalated pretty badly until we were both screaming at each other, things were being thrown, words were uttered that can never be retrieved. Married people fight. It's, for sure, a thing... We just haven't had a night like this in so long. I don't know if all the pressure we've been under just boiled up and exploded, but it was something that made me double take at what we've been doing. To be honest, it made me question if we would last. I know it's ridiculous for me to say that coming on the heels of the post I wrote the other day about how we are hanging in there and coping, but I've never really experienced this with Kyle. I've always just adored him and our marriage, despite the difficult things. I always felt like we'd come back together no matter what, since we came together so organically in the first place. My heart hurts, though, because ever since the fight, I've felt distant from him... He doesn't feel like mine, he feels strange in my life. It's pretty scary for me because for the last five years, I've had my best friend. We've always been able to make up and get back to our path. This time, I can't put my finger on the wedge between us that is so cumbersome.

Something else that is sort of view changing and telling is the realizations about myself. Without getting into too much detail, I finally understood that the abuse I received my whole life has shaped the way I view myself and my relationships and I am constantly setting myself up to carry other people's crap, be their punching bags, neglect myself and my feelings and just shut up and take it. I never realized that I don't actually deserve that life. I don't want that life. It's possible that Kyle and my dynamic is skewed because I don't ask him to carry much of the burdens. I just assume I'm supposed to carry it on my own. So he never has a chance to grow from it. I'm not saying he's not any to blame for the crap we deal with... there's plenty he could work on. Mainly his minute grain of empathy and his communication skills when things are hot and scary, but if I was the person I'm supposed to be more often, he might be becoming the person he's supposed to be. Something else that I'm sure ties into my warped sense of myself, is how I have developed a very refined flight response to adversity. When things get difficult... I just run. I've been running for so long. The thing about running away is that even though it's easier to do at the time, it never makes me happy. Usually, what I want is just on the other side of the dragon.

Having just written that, I realized that maybe it's not really a wedge between Kyle and I... maybe it's me just shedding some old skin... It's not that he particularly feels strange, but new. Maybe our relationship is heading into something new. Maybe, if we can learn to fight the dragon together (the dragon being each of us working on the respective baggage we brought into our marriage) instead of fighting each other, we can come out on the other side stronger and better for each other. As difficult as it is, I know God wants me to keep loving Kyle, even when I feel sad or distant or like I just want to run away from it all. Love isn't always how we feel about each other, it's sometimes choosing to stay and fight for each other. 

I'm scared, but it's time to pick up my sword. Stay. Fight. Conquer.