What Hope Looks Like

Do you know those events that reaffirm your hope and trust in people? Those times where you think you should give up and move on, but something or someone inspires you to keep going? Those people who shake up your perspective and urge you to move forward?

I had the privilege to witness and be a part of one of those moments. I had the joy of attending the Women’s March in New York.

I have to admit, prior to going, a tiny voice in the back of my head shouted “what if it’s not as good as you think it’ll be? What if no one really shows up?”

To that tiny voice in the back of my head: how wrong you were.

Trains both to and from New York were packed with pink hats and signs. There was cheering on my train when we arrived at Grand Central. Walking into that main room was one of the greatest sights I have ever witnessed. The building was overflowing with marchers, some carrying signs, others passing out banners and buttons. Friends, family, and strangers embraced one another with smiles and open arms.

As we began to walk to the match, it dawned on me that this way really happening. All of these people came together to unite for a common cause. And it wasn’t just New York, social media accounts showed marches across the country and all around the world. I was overtaken by the sheer awe and amazement that I was going to be a part of history, that it was something I will be proud of for the rest of my life.

After it was over, I had a few people ask me, “what was your favorite part?”

I could’ve said the marching bands and jazz bands that played alongside us. I could’ve said all of the people and their signs. The chanting and singing and dancing. I could’ve said the knowledge that thousands of people were right behind me, and there were thousands more in front.I could’ve said that I got to be a part of the narrative, a part of a historic event.

But my favorite part happened right before we began to march. A little girl was with her family, and she was upset because she was tired and wanted to march. So to make her feel better, two marchers sat down on the ground with her and began to talk to her to try to cheer her up. And even though they were surrounded by people and chaos, it was if there was no one else in the world but them. They all talked and laughed, and it was in that moment that hope was restored for me.

But make no mistake, there’s more work to be done, especially by white women. We were the demographic who voted for Trump and people like him. We were some of the ones that created this problem, and alongside others, it is up to us to repair the damage. We caused part of the problem, now it’s up to us to try to fix it before it’s too late. Please help and fight for others who do not have a voice or a platform before ours is gone too.

Odyssey Online

Hey all!

This is just a quick update to let you know that I’ve started writing for Odyssey Online!

My first post is now up, and I can’t wait to write more.

I will also still be posting here in addition to my new writing platform.

https://www.theodysseyonline.com/feminist-but-used-ashamed

Please feel free to check it out 🙂

xxoo

What No One Tells You About Grief, Part Two

When I wrote my last post, I realized that I neglected to mention a few of the positive aspects of grief.

You may be asking, “Is there anything positive about grief? About the grieving process?”

I believe so.

Grief can empower you. 

When faced with a difficult situation, humans have an instinctual reaction that is known as “fight or flight.”

Now, there is absolutely no shame in “flight.” There is no shame in taking time to help yourself physically, mentally or emotionally. It doesn’t make you weak to address your emotions. There is no shame in taking time to grieve and to mourn your loss.

What you may not realize is that your grief has the ability to empower you. While grief can drag you down, it can also raise you up. It can remind you of your morals and values. It can show you who and what are important in your life.  Grief can help you to “fight.” Grief can show you the path to heal and recover.

And I’m not going to sugarcoat it, it will be hard. It will not be painless. It will not be easy. You may fail to see the light at the end of the tunnel. But I promise you, it is there. And if you’re having trouble seeing it, have other people light your way.

Grief can spark passion.

This post (and every post I write) is a product of my passion. This particular post is also a product of my sadness, my anger, my myriad of emotions. By expressing myself here, I am allowing myself to grieve. I am allowing myself to understand who I am, and what I want to fight for in this world. These words are allowing me (and hopefully you too) to empathize and connect with others. We may all live different lives, we may have different values, but we all experience grief at some point in our lives.

But passion is something that we can also all experience. How we harness and express our passion is unique to each one of us. Our passions can allow us to get to know ourselves better, and also connect to others who might share our passions.

Grief can allow you to experience things that you typically do not. Grief can expand your ideas, your creativity, your mind’s view. Grief can help you to give back – to yourself and to the world.

Grief can free you. 

It can free you from the banality of everyday life. It can free you from some responsibilities and obligations. It can also show you what you need to get accomplished. It can be the kick in the ass you require to get going. It can spark revolutionary ideas. It can produce change. It can help connect you to your community.

The only thing I ask you to really consider is this. Do not let grief consume you. Do not let be the only thing in your life. Do not let it prohibit you from moving on and fighting for what you believe in.

Grief is unpredictable, unstable in its nature. Grief provokes powerful reactions and emotional fluctuations. However, your grief should not immobilize you. If you choose to wallow in your grief, you may never truly see the bigger picture. If you choose to shy away from what’s uncomfortable, you may not see what exactly it is you have in your life to value.

Grief can empower you, it can spark passion, and it can free you, but only if you let it.

I urge you to let it.

What No One Tells You About Grief

Recently, I received the unfortunate news that my grandpa had passed away. In between crying and dealing with this huge loss, I realized a few things about grief. When a loved one dies, it’s awful. It’s terrible. A confusing mix of emotions that abate at a moments’ notice.

Here are some of those things:

1) Everyone reacts to bad news differently. You may cry or you may laugh hysterically. You may sob in front of people or in solitude. Whatever your emotional reaction, it does not mean that you don’t care.

2) If you have a loved one who doesn’t cry often, or if you yourself don’t cry often, those crying fits may be alarming or overwhelming. For me, one of the most difficult parts of this was seeing my father cry. It’s okay to take a second to breathe and let the emotions out. If you’re a person (like me) who can bottle things up, that’s also okay. Express it at your own pace.

3) You will have people ask you how that person died: were they in pain, was it sudden and so on. They will also ask “how are you holding up?” If you’re anything like me, you’ll probably say something along the lines of “I’m fine” or “I’m doing okay.” Whether it’s the truth, or you’re lying through your grief-stricken teeth, these types of answers will usually get people to leave you alone (if that’s what you want). Talk as much or a little as you want. If people judge you, pay them no mind. Your grief is yours and yours alone.

4) Along with people asking you questions, you will probably receive a fair amount of hugs and kisses. If you’re the type of person who is not comfortable with physical contact, let people know. In the same regard, if you crave hugs and kisses, tell people. In this heightened emotional state, being around people may be therapeutic; or you may revert back into your shell. If you’re an introvert like me, you may resort to hiding out upstairs on your phone, or reading a book until you feel comfortable enough to interact again.

5) If you’re craving distraction from the news/grief, you may find yourself wandering in and out of random stores or scanning aisles in the supermarket. Personally, I cleaned every room in my house and reorganized my bookshelves in alphabetical order by authors’ last name. To each their own. Find your comfort in ordinary things.

6) If you’re someone who eats when you are stressed (*raises hand*), you may feel hungry and completely full at the same time. I also recommend not eating a ton of junk food before a long plane ride. Otherwise, you may spend five hours of the flight wishing you hadn’t eaten that last lemon square. Even though it was delicious at the time, turbulence over the Rocky Mountains can change that feeling quickly.

7) You may go through the “5 Stages Of Grief” in a matter of minutes. For me, this included weeping at the sight of a beautiful tree, threatening to run fellow shoppers over with a grocery cart and quietly sitting in my room in silence. It led me to accept that death is a part of life while sitting in a diner eating breakfast. Take as much time as you need to process your emotions and your grief.

The main point of all of these observations is this: Your grief is valid and however/whenever you express that grief is completely up to you. Take some time to take care of yourself and the ones you love. Death may not be something you just get over within a day, it will take time.

 

 

The Perks Of Being Ordinary

Chances are, if you are reading this post, you are an ordinary person who is currently living an average life.

Many of us, myself included, dream of being more. We dream of being free from the humdrum routine of everyday life. We dream of being scoped out by a mentor to pursue our dreams, we dream of gracing magazine covers and having people hang on our every word or social media post. We dream of being more than we currently are.

However, I believe that if we are constantly trying to be successful or striving to be the best, we often forget the life we are currently living. We are so focused on being the best, that we may not realize that what already have in front of us might be amazing as well.

As a society, we often focus on the extraordinary, whether it be a new celebrity coming up in the entertainment ranks, brutal crimes or devastating natural disasters. We are so focused on finding the next best thing that we forget about the everyday heroes, the people who make our world a better place.

We are so focused on finding the extraordinary, we forget about the ordinary. 

So I propose an exercise in finding the ordinary which we have forgotten.

Turn off your electronic devices and take a look around. Take a good long look around where you currently are. Notice the little things, like the ground beneath your feet or the lights in the ceiling. If there are other people around, take notice of them too. If you’re feeling social, maybe strike up a small conversation. Smile, make eye contact. Notice your surroundings, and take note of how you fit into them. Then when you’re done, let me know what you think.

I hope you have an average, ordinary day.

 

 

Stay Tuned…

After several months, a much needed mental vacation, and too many cups of coffee, I am pleased to announce that new blog posts will be going up this week! 

So keep your minds open and your eyes peeled, because I don’t think you’ll want to miss what is in store. 

I’m looking forward to getting back into the swing of things, and I do hope you’re looking forward to it as well. 

xxoo. 

There’s A Thin Line Between Love and Harassment

As I waited in line for my very overpriced coffee in a semi-crowded Starbucks on a Wednesday, I noticed two guys…two men checking me out. As I attempted to ignore their blatant staring, I noticed something else. These two men were old enough to be my father, they were with their young kids, yet their ogling of me never ceased. But my level of safety and comfort quickly diminished. I wondered what I had done to set off their staring. Was it what I was wearing? A quick glance down at my t-shirt and too-big shorts told me no. Was my bra strap showing? Again, no. What was it that I had done wrong that they were staring at me in this way?

Nothing. I had done nothing wrong to attract their very unwanted attention. The only thing I had done was step foot in the store to feed my caffeine addiction and to read my book. That’s it. I wasn’t flirting with them, I wasn’t planning to interact with them in any way besides standing in line, and yet somehow I thought it was my fault that they were looking at me. And this interaction didn’t happen in a new, strange environment. It took place in the white, middle-class suburbia that is my hometown.

Now all of this took place in the span of five minutes, but in that time, I realized something.

How can one tell the difference between what’s right and what’s wrong when it comes to harassment?

It’s a thin line…one that’s based on communication and societal perceptions. It’s forged from years of harassment and opposingly, years of kind words. The line is different for every person. But the line will always be thin between “love” and harassment.

The question is, is what do we do as a society about that line? Or is it up to the individual to understand their own boundaries? When does one cross the line?

In order to understand the thinness of said line, here are some examples of lines that I’ve heard in the past. Try to figure out which ones are “love” and which are “harassment.”

“Hey girl…oh you don’t wanna say hi to me? I get it.”

“You look beautiful today.”

“Hey, pretty mama how you doin’ today?”

“Hey, how’s it going?”

“You should be flattered that someone wants to compliment you.”

Think you have the right answers?

The answer was that all five of them could be considered harassment when you take into account the context they were in. Two of them included an attempt to touch me in some way (one grabbed my arm, the other went for my ass). Three included smiles and winks, none of which were reciprocated by me. All five produced the response of me walking quickly past them with my head down and my heart racing. See what I mean?

See what I mean?

In today’s society, the line is so thin that we are often hyper-vigilant in our quest to stop harassment. We are so afraid of making a commotion, drawing unwanted attention to ourselves. In the case of many women, myself included, we are wary to speak up against our harassers, because it could very well lead to more abuse or even physical violence.

If we expect this type of backlash and violence, what can we as a society do about it to prevent it from happening in the future?

I believe that we should teach people how to understand the difference between “love” and harassment. What I mean by this is that through education and prevention, we can help prevent everyday sexism and harassment. Of course, this isn’t a task that will be accomplished in a day. This is something that has been happening for decades, and sadly it may take time before we can truly acknowledge the irreparable damage.

Just because it’s always happened, doesn’t mean that it has to continue.

 

 

It’s Not Always Easy Being PC

Recently, I had someone tell me that ” I wasn’t being politically correct enough.” When I asked them to explain what they meant, the answer that I received was “Well we’re millennials, we should always be politically correct.”

And to that person, my response is this.

Just because I am a millennial and a human being, doesn’t mean I will be politically correct 100% of the time. And neither will you.

Political correctness (PC) is a term that is thrown around frequently in society today. It is used in discussions relating to a variety of issues, including (but not limited to) racism, homophobia and other LGBT+ issues, religious bigotry, etc.

While I personally support the use of politically correct terms and the breaking down of systemic institutions and the powers in place, I think being 100% PC may sometimes come at a cost.

By trying so hard not to offend or demean, we end up often confronting or berating others if they are not as socially cognizant as we assume they should be. Therefore, by belittling others for not being hyper-sensitive, we ourselves are not being PC. The original issue/topic gets muddled in a sea of false politeness and the real purpose of the discussion is put asunder.

Now, I am not saying that I think political correctness is without merit, but I do think that some people exploit it is as an excuse to justify their actions and behaviors. Some people simply assume that because they are “being PC”, it means that they are empowered to scold others for their lack of social consciousness/self-editing.

This potentially false sense of empowerment of a higher moral compass may not take into account the other individuals’ knowledge or comprehension about the subject that is being discussed. By not taking into account the person’s background, religious/cultural upbringing or general education, the PC person hinders their ability to construct or support a persuasive argument. You can’t help someone to learn if you don’t know how to teach.

To effectively evolve and create a more socially conscious global community, I believe we must first listen, even if we don’t like what we’re hearing. Mutual respect and growth only comes from those who are willing to feel uncomfortable with the conversation. In my opinion, everyone benefits when we are less concerned with being correct, and more concerned with open, non judgmental dialogue.

It is important to be conscious of the words we are using, but it is also important to be aware of the thoughts that are being expressed.

Thanks Mom and Dad, For Everything.

This past Sunday, I had the privilege of becoming part of the latest class of college graduates.

But as I walked across the stage to receive my diploma, I realized something.

Even though I was the one who was graduating, there was no doubt that without the support of my friends and family, I wouldn’t have been graduating at all.

In particular, there are two people whom without their support and love, I wouldn’t have even existed to get to walk across that stage.

If you haven’t guessed it by now, those two people are my parents.

My mom and my dad are two of the most amazing people in my life, and I’m going to tell you why.

My parents have always been there for me, from Pre-K to college, and have stood by my side through the impossibly tough times. They tried for years to have a child, and when I finally was born, did everything in their power to make sure I would be okay.

They’ve taught me some of my most valued lessons and have helped teach me right from wrong. They’ve taught me to always help others when I could, and the importance of giving, especially when others have nothing.

My parents have dealt with my 2 AM anxiety-filled phone calls and constant questions about how to be an adult.

My parents sometimes struggled to help get me through college, all while working full-time and raising my sister too.

My parents taught me to work hard, but to also take the time to relax and have fun. They’ve taught me that if I have an idea or a dream, I should work as hard as I can and that it will be possible.

They’ve taught me to love pizza, disco, old movies and “All In The Family”. They’ve taught me what true love looks like after 37 years of being together.

My parents are my role models, and there is no doubt that without their love and support, I wouldn’t be the woman I am today.

So thank you, Mom and Dad, for everything you’ve done, and everything you will continue to do.

I love you.

Writing In The Prison, Week 5: No, It Isn’t Like Orange Is The New Black

“So, you work in a prison? Is it anything like Orange Is The New Black? Or Prison Break? Or…”

I’ve received this question more times than I can count in the past few weeks. Whenever I tell people about my Independent Study, this is usually one of the first questions I am asked.

At first, I thought it was funny so I laughed it off. But now the more that the question is asked, the less funny I find it.

Is Orange Is The New Black really what people think prison is actually like? Or for that matter, do people think that any show or movie which depicts prison life is 100% accurate?

The women I work with know that they’ve done something wrong, but they want to get better and to start their lives again. The most “attitude” I’ve seen all semester is from the guards who work there.

Why is it that there is such a stigma against prison life? Is it because we as humans are afraid of the unknown, the unusual? There are so many questions, and sadly not enough answers yet.

But I can tell you one thing, this prison (and the people in it) are nothing like those in Orange Is The New Black. There’s not even a theme song!

Please let me know what you think, and share.

Until next time.