Category: Uncategorized

Honestly, I Didn’t Really Want This Gift

I’m pregnant. Seventeen weeks at this time. This will be kid #4. That is a lot of kids. This pregnancy was completely unexpected, and honestly, not wanted. I waited to blog about this. I wanted to wait until the shock and complete life meltdown had calmed.

Well. It didn’t calm. As I sat in that doctors office at my 12 week appointment, I saw my baby on the ultrasound screen, I waited to feel something. Anything but anxiety. Nothing. No tears were shed. No happy emotion was felt. I was blank. Then I was angry. I was really counting on seeing the baby to snap me into excitement. I know I cannot be the only person out there to feel this way. So I tried a different approach to help myself become excited. Fake it until you make it, right? There is so much faking it while you’re pregnant. I am regularly on social media, and post cute belly shots, funny pregnancy memes, and keep a very positive attitude about it. Here’s a secret, those are for me, not my Facebook friends. I am really wanting to be excited about a baby. I just can’t seem to get there.

Years ago, I worked at Starbucks. A regular customer came in, noticeably upset. She had just found out she was pregnant. I couldn’t understand why she was so upset. She was married, in her 30s, and a great 8 year old son. Why wasn’t she thrilled about this? I now understand. She was done. Her life was on a different path. Her entire life was going to change. Everything.

I get corrected a lot when I’m honest about it. It’s frustrating. I’m allowed to be upset, even devastated about this. It is life changing. “But you’re such a great mom!” Yes. And I will be a great mom that loves this kid as well. Still upsetting. “Babies are a blessing!” Well. I didn’t want this blessing right now. I was enjoying and content with the blessing of having self sufficient children. “You’re so strong! You got this!” While I know that is supposed to be encouraging, maybe I don’t want to be strong. Maybe just once I was happy to not have to sacrifice every single part of who I am for another person. Even if that person is my kid.

See, as a parent, it’s hard to be honest about the shitty parts of parenting. The assumption is that if you don’t love every part, or find those hardships as cute little roadblocks, you’re less of a parent. This is such a fucking lie. Every parent out there has times they hate it. I love my kids more than anything. But being a parent really does suck sometimes. Especially for a single parent. I am now expected to sacrifice my body for over a year, my hobbies, my social life, and I have to do it alone. No one to tell me I’m pretty. No one to run out and get me craving food. No one to lay holding my tummy, trying to feel kicks. No one to ease my anxiety about having another child. No one to be excited when I’m having days where I feel like I can’t do it. Alone.

I know I chose to keep this baby. I know I will be so happy and joyful watching this amazing kid grow. I know that someday I will read back on this and be glad I’m past it. I also know that right now, carrying this child is a burden. It makes me feel isolated and alone. It makes me angry at the dad. It makes me angry at god. It makes me angry at myself. It makes me bitter and jealous of all those people who’s biggest problem is deciding on the nursery theme. It makes me feel selfish. I have to tell myself no about so much, and this means even more no’s.

So all you out there reading this that have supported me, thank you for the positive words. I really do appreciate it. I really am trying to be happy about it. Please continue the support. It is a wonderful distraction to the reality of the situation.

For those who are feeling the same, it’s ok, I know how much it sucks to have to fake it. To feel like your missing out on all those happy pregnancy moments, because you’re not happy. This doesn’t mean you’re a bad person or going to be a bad mom. It means you’re human.

Now, I will go back to my positive social media posts, and move forward. I know it will all click at some point. I’ll get there eventually, and I am working on not beating myself up to badly on it taking so long. I’m a pretty impatient person.

The World is our Playground, and I’ll Probably Scratch my Knee

I was always taught, you should never talk about religion, politics, or how much someone makes. As a teen/young adult, this seemed silly to me. I was not about to hide my thoughts and beliefs just to spare someone from feeling uncomfortable. Your entire life is based around these things. Why should you tip toe around subjects that dictate your entire existence and purpose? Let the world know where you stand! Then, adulthood happened. These silly rules of etiquette now have a different meaning than what I perceived in my younger days.

I am going to touch on religion today. I was raised Roman Catholic. I loved it. The church I went to was filled with caring, loving people. I was not raised with hate, judgement, or class divide. I was very lucky. The families I saw every Sunday were also the families that I would see volunteering with my own. They were the ones that we would have cook outs with. They were the families that we would call for help with a project, or find ourselves helping them with one of theirs. With all this time together, can you guess how much of it was spent talking about religion? Little to none. Maybe a “I could use some prayers” or a “I’m having a hard time accepting God’s will on this”, but very rarely some sort of deep religious debate.

I am not religious now, but I often contemplate this time in my life. I get on Facebook, and see these constant religious posts, and it makes me cringe. Not because I don’t respect others faith. Not because I don’t understand other’s beliefs. My irritation comes from the fact that these people are missing the point. They are living their lives by verses and some sort of delusional “prayer magic” and never just live. They spout out that they, “trust in God”, yet live and talk as if they’re trying to constantly convince themselves and others what they really believe.

Here’s the thing. (And I’m mostly addressing those who are Christian, since that is where my experience lies.) If your faith is the core of who you are, you don’t need to convince or preach to anyone. Seriously. It will be evident through your actions and life. If you are having inner turmoil over a life decision and “God’s direction”, you’re wasting your time and energy. If you preach faith, trust, love, mercy, and kindness, and find your immediate reaction to another person’s choices or lifestyle to be harsh and judgmental, your faith is not at your core. You are doing it wrong.

See, these families I was raised with still lived. They still went on vacations. They enjoyed camping. They had workout routines. They took art classes. They went to the movies. And, believe it or not, they did not feel that enjoying the world they lived in was somehow taking from their beliefs. They believed it added to it. Guess what. You’re allowed to enjoy the world you’re in. If your faith is truly who you are, and not just your religion, it’s always with you. If God made this world, and he made you and me, that means he also made trees and animals and our imagination.

I am having a hard time explaining where I’m going with this so I’m going to use a little visual for you.

Someone creates a large amazing playground. You get here and look around at how amazing it is. There are other people there too. Now, you have to decide how much/little you want to experience there, and you observe the others to help you to decide.

-The careless: You see some climbing on the outside of it and jumping off carelessly. They hurt themselves.

-The helpers: You see some run to the aid of those hurt to help.

-The self righteous: You hear some say “well, it’s their own fault. They were being reckless.” And “If they were as cautious as I am, this wouldn’t have happened.”

-The fear mongers: You see some just playing around the outside on the ground. “We see the dangers of this playground! Just because we are here, doesn’t mean we have to be part of it! Avoid the temptation of others, it may look like fun, but it will always lead to hurt! Do not give in to it’s flashy excitement!”

-The destructive: You see some breaking parts of it. Drawing or carving on it.

-The fixers: You see some taking a break from playing to repair parts that are broken.

-The happy: You see some just sliding down slides and playing with others.

I could go on and on with this, but you get the point. The world is our playground. Yes there are dangers. Yes others aren’t playing the way you think is best. But you are missing out if you refuse to take part in it’s awesomeness. Who are you in this playground? If you fell, would you never venture on it again? If someone else fell, would you offer help, or judgment? Instead of living in constant fear that you’re going to play wrong, get out there and climb the fucking monkey bars. You’ll find what you enjoy. You’ll find what you’re good at. You’ll find what and who you should avoid. But if you just sit on the sidelines refusing to be a part of this amazing world, that you say your God created, you’re only making your purpose and happiness take longer. No one was made to just sit to the side. That’s where hate, anger, judgement, and jealousy come from. Your inner turmoil and self righteous feelings aren’t hurting me, or anyone else on the playground. They’re hurting you.

We were all Annoying Teens

My brother and sister are 15 years old. For those of you with teenagers, I’m sure your mind can instantly picture what this is like. For those of you without teenagers, I highly recommend making a friend that has teenage children. Just sit and observe. It’s an odd combination of complete frustration, and reminiscent understanding. At one moment I want to hug them and say, “It’s ok! This is a horrible time that we all had to endure. You’re doing great.” And then the next moment I want to yell at them, “Seriously? Calm the frick down you unstable, hormonal, crazy teenager!”

So I’ve been thinking about what I wish I knew as a teenager. Of course, I most likely would have dismissed any advice given, but I want to throw this out there anyways. It’s an odd thing to be an adolescent. I remember thinking, “I’m not stupid. I know I don’t know everything. It’s so insulting that adults always joke about how teenagers think they know everything.” I felt so miniscule compared to the rest of the world. And I KNEW I had so much to learn. But that stereotype of the all knowing teen still stands strong. As a now 30 year old, I sit contemplating how you can know you know nothing, and still be seen as a know it all.

The humility was lacking. Not that I was over cocky, I just lacked the experience of life. The moment I realized this, was my junior year in high school. I went with a group to Juarez, Mexico over Christmas. The poverty was something I had never seen before. I realized how little I knew about the world, and myself. After returning, I remember feeling frustrated with my peers. I wanted to change the world, and believed I could. See, that’s the great thing about the youth and young adults. They have passion without having life beat the shit out of them yet.

I want to give a list of things that are kickass about being an adult. Things for these teens to remember when their life seems so short sighted.

1) You can be a nerd. And I don’t mean just about education. About anything. That thing you love, that you down play now so you don’t get teased? Yeah. You get to own that shit. You like plants? Awesome! Comic books? Sweet! Sports? Wonderful!  Grown ups don’t care. And you don’t have to pretend you like stuff you don’t anymore. If a friend starts talking about how amazing the engine in their car is, you’re allowed to appreciate their passion, but not feel obligated to like it as well. It’s great.

2) You don’t feel the need to explain every single angle of your argument. You share your thoughts, and if they’re not received as right, you can just be done! You don’t feel then need to make anyone understand. I love this. Very soon into a debate I can see if it is a constructive one. If not, I walk away! Do they think they won the argument? I don’t care! It doesn’t matter! It’s so great not approaching topics with a win/lose thought process.

3) Your parents get to be your friends. I know this may sound like a punishment to a teen, but trust me, it’s great. You will start to want to talk to them about stuff, and hear about their experiences. It’s like finding that the map for life was in your hands the whole time, you were just looking at the wrong side. Flip that shit over and breathe a sigh of relief!

4) Being bored is a treat. It means all the nagging responsibilities of adulthood are taken care of. And you know how to take care of the boredom. It’s exciting when you realize, Yay! Now I get to (insert any hobbie. Most likely something related to your nerdiness mentioned in #1). 

5) You’re allowed to mess up. Seriously. You’re allowed to make poor choices. I don’t recommend it, but you will survive it. And you will realize how many other adults have fucked up too. They come out of the woodwork. As long as you’re honest about it, and take responsibility, most grown ups just see it as being human! You’re human! Your life will carry on!

Now, I know there are some great things about being a teen as well. So don’t wish away your youth. Here are some things you will miss as an adult.

1) The passion and excitement. While I still find certain things get me motivated, I have lost a lot of my vigor for certain causes. Embrace it now. Before you have bills and children and all the other mundane grown up crap. Save the animals. Do mission work. Get involved with your community. Tutor the young. You’ll still be able to do this as an adult, but it’s different. You won’t be able to throw your whole heart into it.

2) Travel. Any trip you can take, take it. Make memories with your peers. That life experience you lack? This is where you start to obtain it.

3) Write it down. All of it. Everything. Your thoughts, your experiences, your frustrations, and your ideas. You won’t have time later to write as much as you’d like, and you will forget. Writing it down will give you something many don’t have. The ability to see your growth as a person entering adulthood.

4) Take any classes you can. The sadness I have for not taking advantage of the education I was offered lingers with me. There will not be another time in your life you’re allowed to JUST learn. As an adult, we actually have to sacrifice other aspects of our life to obtain an education. Do it now. Before you have a full time job, and family, and a mortgage. All classes. Literature, art, science, language…any and all you can find.

5) Be with your friends as much as you can. There will come a day that you will realize you haven’t seen your best friend in months. You will have to schedule lunch or just send them a message. It’s a sad reality of adulthood.

6) Laugh when people try to put you down for being a teen. They may not admit it, but they were there too. Just know, this is such a short time in life. You don’t have to feel ashamed of your lack of wisdom. Acknowledge you don’t have a freaking clue, and know someday you will. Let go of the frustration and be content with the part of life you are currently in.

So to all the teens out there, you annoy me. Not because I don’t know what you feel or think (it’s almost painful how much I feel your feelings and know your thoughts), but because I wish I would have been ok with myself back then. I want to take you and open your eyes to all you have in front of you. I want to go back and tell teenage Beth that I didn’t need to get mad at myself and that I wasn’t alone. You will hear these words time and time again. Just smile, and be ok with it. You’ll get where you need to be.

I Have Better Balance with a Net

I have written before about my months being “homeless”. For those who haven’t read about my time without a home, I would like to stress, I was not on the street, and it was one of the best experiences of my life. I miss it. I have found myself, for the last few months, trying to recreate those couple months of my life. Only this time, I am trying to do it on my own. It’s not working.

I try to be a problem solver about these type things. I need to figure out why living in someone’s basement, with 3 times the amount of people, only about 10% of my possessions, was more peaceful and encouraging than what I am doing now. I still work the same places. I still have bills. I still have children. What is the variable in all this?

Last week I was talking to my mom. Just normal mother daughter stuff. I was telling her how sick of surviving I was. That I wish I could just go out and take chances and do things. It’s not fair. I was telling her about how I wished I was naive to the world. That I was wished that I could just be stupid. Some people I meet are so dumb, yet so successful. I’ve talked to people before and thought, how do you make so much more than me? You, my friend, are an idiot. Why can’t I just be like that? See, the problem is, I know where I lack. I know there is so much more to things than we originally see. I feel small when I think about how much there is to learn, how much life I have not seen. How complex the inner workings of each human encounter and situation is. It’s overwhelming sometimes. I want to not be self aware. I want to just think I can do something, and be so confident, that everyone around me just believes I can too. How can I just block out the part of me that knows my pit falls?

I told my mom what a Debbie Downer I was. People give me such great solutions, “you should just…. why don’t you just….if I were you I would just….” And I find holes in their logic every time. I sound like I’m making excuses. People assume I am not really looking for a solution. How do I just block out that part of me that dissects every aspect of other’s suggestions? My mom said, you can’t block that out. You don’t have a safety net. Some people have no idea what it’s like to live their life without a safety net.

My mind immediately went into visual mode. I imagined walking on a high wire, with no net. I could feel the anxiety. My pace would be slow and precise. I would be focusing on each step, my breathing, and be preparing myself to squat down and hold the rope if need be. Then I imagined myself doing the same thing with a net. While I would still be trying to keep my balance, I would not have anxiety. I would be watching the finish line, not my feet. My pace would be quicker, and I wouldn’t be concerned with worrying about grabbing on. Worst case, I may have to start again. But I wouldn’t be injured. It would be a set back, but not devastating.

So what does it feel like to not have a net in the real world? Well, first off, you have to assume it’s only you. You can hope for help with things, but never assume. YOU will have to clean, cook, work, drive, plan, tend to the kids, take care of yourself, and make sure things are done in a way you are not setting yourself up for trouble later. Sounds a lot like every day life….except you need to add the anxiety of not having anyone there to help. You need to remember that one little overlook could set you back for a long time. You start saying no to everything. You’re so worried about one foot in front of the other, even if there is something that could help you down the road, you do not have the ability to look up from your own feet. You miss out on things that could help you, or chose not to take risks that would benefit you, because it’s too much of a gamble. You can’t concern yourself with “making the most” of anything. Your job is to just survive and get through it.

Now, add in the spectators. Those who are watching you, and see what you’re missing. Yelling “don’t do that!” Or “I can’t believe you missed that!” Try to block them out. Yes, they have a better view of the big picture. From where they’re standing, they can give all the right advice. But they are not up on the wire with you. They can’t feel how much give is left in it, or how tired or weak you feel. They are not going to catch you if you fall, and you don’t expect them to risk themselves to try to. You just take a step at a time, and rest when you need to.

Now, back to living with the Collins family. It was the first time in years I felt safe. They had given me a net. They didn’t take away had I had to do in life, they simply gave me the ability to not just survive it. Their cheers from below were reminders that if I fell, they would help me back up on the wire. They took the anxiety away. I was able to look up and actually make decisions for my life.

So I’m back without a net. It is what it is. I now know, I need to make my own net. While I was so graciously allowed to borrow theirs for a short time, it is theirs. They need it for their family, and their own life challenges. So that is what I need to do now. I need to take a break from the task at hand and figure out how to make a net for myself and my family, so that I can progress forward in life. What will that net be? Saving money? A higher education? Making connections and finding resources? I don’t know yet. Right now I feel like my task is untangling the knotted material that could be my net. Look at what I have to use, and figure out how to make it work.

For those out there with a net. When you see someone that seems to be struggling with something that seems to have a simple solution, ask yoursef: If I didn’t have my spouse, my savings, my degree, my connections and life experiences, or my plan b, what would I do? If you have the ability to offer your net temporarily, do it. If you can help with the tangled mess they have so they can make their own net, even better.

For those with no net. You are not alone. Don’t ever let others make you feel bad about how your are walking the wire. There are those who see your struggle and want to help. Take one step at a time and rest when you need to. It may seem hopeless, the end may seem too far to ever reach. You may have to just stop, hold on, and cry. Do it. You’re the one up there, you’re the one that knows your limits and all you have to lose if you take a wrong step. And I will try to be a cheerleader for you. I will try to offer a net when I can. You, my friend, have my deepest admiration for having to go through life with the added anxiety and fear others don’t have to experience. You are not weak or stupid. You are stronger and more self aware than most, and you need to know that about yourself.

Let me not Explain Myself to You.

Years ago, I walked into my weekly therapy session, flustered, running late, and in a state of mild chaos. Here is the conversation that followed:

-Therapist: I like that shirt! That’s a really good color on you!
-Me: What? Oh. Yeah. I got this from a friend secondhand. It fits me alright.
-Therapist: Why do you do that?
-Me: Do what?
-Therapist: Deflect a compliment. You do that a lot. You are always justifying things. You are allowed to just say thank you.
-Me: I don’t do that.
-Therapist: Yes you do. All the time…. I have a question for you. If you were to go to the store and the cashier asked you how Genevieve’s dad was who her dad was, what would you say?
-Me: Well…I guess I would say, it was years ago, we were…
-Therapist: STOP. No. You say, “It just is what it is. How are you doing today?” You don’t owe a perfect stranger an explanation. You need to stop feeling like you need to explain yourself to EVERY person that says something to you.

Of course I rolled my eyes and told her she wasn’t right. I don’t do that THAT much. But whatever. I would “watch myself” for over justification like she told me to. I left and decided to go get a cup of coffee from McDonald’s. While I was there, there was a funny occurrence that I was going to post on fb. As I’m trying to type out my status, I realize, I was trying to make sure that in the status I mentioned that I was using a gift card my dad gave to me. I stopped dead in my tracks. Why does it matter? Why was it important that my fb friends knew I was using a gift card, not my own money? It’s a $1 cup of coffee. Maybe I just wanted a cup of coffee.

Then I realized, I didn’t want people to think I was better off than I was. I knew so many people had helped me, and we’re supporting me. I didn’t want them to think I was taking their help, and then treating myself out. I wanted them to know I appreciated all they did and didn’t want them to feel like whatever I was doing was a slap in the face.

I went back the next week and told my therapist about this, and many other, instances where it took all my might to not explain myself. Then she said to me, “Most people, when they help someone, it’s a gift. They know what they can give, and they know that YOU know what you need. They trust you are going to do what’s best for you and your kids. Even if it’s a cup of coffee, or makeup, or a shirt. They wouldn’t be helping you if they thought you were a freeloader. And if what you need is not what they think you need, and are angry with what you choose, that’s THEIR problem. Not yours. If someone gave you an expensive vase, and you needed a cup to drink out of, you would use the vase to drink from. They have the choice to see it as you meeting your needs with their help, or you treating their gift with disrespect. You don’t get to control their thoughts and feelings. You just worry about meeting your needs. They can get their own therapist to deal with their control issues.”

What freedom that gave me. The anxiety that came with constantly trying to take care of my family and other people’s feels was a huge burden. So I worked on not justifying every thing I did. And guess what, people that were judging me before, still judged me. People that loved and supported me, still loved and supported me.

I also found I needed to be a lot more forward with my needs. I also learned I didn’t have to accept help that wasn’t helping me. I didn’t have to take “gifts” that had stipulations if it wasn’t the best for my family. So many times, when you’re struggling, you are so desperate for some relief and help, you just accept any and all help. I realized that if someone offered me a pile of dog poop (so to say) I was allowed to say no thank you.

So thank you to that therapist that helped me get out of my constant state of shame and justification. And thank you to all those who didn’t need me to explain my motives. To know, and just trust I was doing the best for my kids. Even if it wasn’t perfect and I bought coffee from McDonald’s.

How a Celebrity Can Make a Lady Cry

A year ago, I sat crying, absolutely stunned to hear that Robin Williams had taken his life. It was surreal. I had never cried over a celebrity before. I mean, there were others I had felt heartbroken about passing, and even ones that stopped me in my tracks with the shock of the news. But tears of grief, to me, we’re saved for losing my loved ones. Robin Williams. Dead. It shook me. I felt like he WAS one of my loved ones. I sat with my (then) fiancé, and talked about him for hours. I kept saying, “He wouldn’t have done this if he knew how much he was loved! How could he not know? How could someone that amazing not see all he did for people??”

Here’s the thing. I saw so much of myself in him, I KNEW I was going to meet him. I knew he would get me. I’m not delusional, I know I’m a single mom of 3 kids. But there was a part of me that thought, the universe will definitely throw us together at some point. It had to! People like us are magnets. We find eachother.

I was surprised with myself. All the stages of grief so prevalent. I have never met this man, and I am by no means a superfan. I haven’t seen half the movies he was in. I wanted to write about him. I wanted to write about all the inspiration he gave me, all the wisdom, all the life changing things he did for me. But I had nothing to say. So many others could articulate who he was, what he did, and what he left behind, so much better than I ever could. He was just a guy I heard about, liked, admired, and was excited for the day I would be able to meet him.

“Wow Bethy. This is a great post about someone you didn’t know dying, and how you were sad.” Of course, there is more. (C’mon, there is always more.)

Robin Williams dying was months before my dad and brother died. I was in a wonderfully awesome point in life. Work was great. Summer was spectacular. Life was good. His death stopped me in my tracks. I knew depression. I had felt hopelessness. My stomach turned at the thought of how he felt in his last moments. I thought about when I was that low. When I planned my own suicide. I knew how I was going to do it. I knew when I wanted to do it. I even had written a few notes. Do you want to know why I didn’t do it? It wasn’t for me. It wasn’t that I woke up one day and got motivated to “improve my life”. It was because I knew I was needed. I knew I was all my daughters had. I couldn’t give them that grief on top of everything else. So, I made an agreement with myself. I would raise them, and then have an accident. I would just wait it out.

Who thinks like that? My mind was made up. I was a shell of a person. People would tell me what a great mother I was. How strong I was. What an inspiration I was. I would smile and say thanks. They were empty words. My life was a waste. I had no purpose. My vision of myself had turned from passion and excitement, to despair and regret.  There were no words that could snap me out of it. I was a joke to most, and a burden to the rest. Then, my mom looked at me and said, “You need to get your shit together. You have 3 little girls looking to you. You cannot abandon them.”

That’s when I realized, I can’t just survive long enough. They are watching me. While I sit on the couch, staring at the wall. While I cry and just let them run around the house making messes. When I say no to going to the park because I’m too tired to even move. They are watching, and waiting to know what to do. So, I went to my doctor.

So back to Robin Williams. He took his life. Something in him said, “All those people that are telling you that you are great are lying. No one needs you. You are wasting space. You’re just surviving life, and you are a shell of a person.” Because that’s what depression tells you. You see the life you live. You think about how you got there. You wonder how different it could be “if…” And then you realize this isn’t the life you’d thought you would have and give up.

I went to my doctor. I was open to antidepressants, and asked my doctor to just fix me. My doctor decided to check my vitamin levels and found I was completely deficient on D3. Within a week of taking her recommend dose, I was feeling like me again. I almost killed myself because Michigan doesn’t get enough sunlight. My kids almost lost their mother, because I didn’t want to bother a doctor with my problems. My parents almost had to bury their daughter, because I was missing a vitamin….a VITAMIN. I owe my life to that woman.

If you know anyone that is depressed, your “positive words” won’t help. Your avoiding them, will make it worse. You need to tell them, “You are needed. You need to get your shit together. Let’s get you help.” I am thankful for my mom, my daughters, and for the doctor who helped me. We all hear that suicide is the most selfish thing you can do. But that’s the thing, when you’re faced with it, it seems like the most generous thing you can do.

Choosing to Look at the Guillotine

I have been reading my girls Les Misérables every night before bed. My middle daughter says it’s boring. My oldest says it’s long and confusing. My youngest couldn’t care less.  I read it anyways. I struggle with all the French words, and stop every paragraph or so and explain what it means. I think it’s good for all of us.

We are still reading about the bishop right now. A few days ago, we read about a man sentenced to death for creating counterfeit money. They explain about the shock of seeing the guillotine. “The guillotine is the law made concrete; it is called the Avenger. It is not neutral and does not permit you to remain neutral. Whoever sees it quakes, mysteriously shaken to the core.” This has sat with me. Many things in life, we have no opinion of, or think we do, but don’t know until the moment we see it in front of us. Then, we cannot remain neutral. You know, the moment it is front of you, where you stand and what you believe.

Abortion. (Oh shit Beth. Don’t make this THIS kind of post. I know, I know.) I have heard the debate on both sides. I know people who have had abortions, and I know others who chose not to (myself included). I would like to share my experience, my views, and my thoughts on it.

I knew I could never have an abortion. I made that decision long before I was faced with an unexpected pregnancy. When I saw those 2 lines on that stick, I chucked it in the trash and collapsed to the ground. I sobbed as my roommate tried to comfort me. How could I have been so stupid? What do I say to the dad? I bet he won’t want to be involved.  How do I tell my family? My parents are going to be so pissed. Do I stay in the Air Force? I mean, I would have healthcare, but I would have to put it in daycare at 6 weeks…and what if I deployed? What will it be like to be a mom? I am good with kids…I wonder if it’s a boy or girl.

My mind raced. So, I walked into the doctors, took the blood test, and waited. Still with tears running down my, now very swollen, face. The doctor walked in with a smile. “Congratulations Mama! It was positive!  You’re going to have a baby!” His overly enthusiastic response caught me off guard. I didn’t know how to respond to that. Why was he so freaking happy about it? I’m NINETEEN. I should be looking forward to keggers, not diapers. Then it hit me. I am growing a baby. Holy shit. I have a little me just floating around in there. I took the paper with the results on it and just stared at it.

Well, anyone that has ever been to Tech school in the AF knows, it took about 3 min before everyone found out. Then, I was faced with something I wasn’t prepared for. The unsolicited advice. “That sucks so much! Did you find a clinic to take care of it?” Or “Well, you better get in soon, the bigger it is, the more expensive.” And a lot of, “Do you need me to drive you?” It was expected that I was going to have an abortion. And when I said I wasn’t, I was told I was making a huge mistake. That I would regret it. It was going to ruin my life. I would never find a guy that wanted to take on a woman with a kid. I was throwing away my youth.

Pause. This was my choice. I chose to have the baby. I considered adoption, but chose to keep her. My choice. Do any of you know how hard it was to stand firm in my choice? I had a few select people that supported me. The rest, felt I was making the wrong choice and we’re unsupportive. I kept thinking, if this is my choice, then why aren’t people supportive either way? Then I realized, that at 19, it wasn’t really a choice for most people. They had never sat and made this decision in advance. It was that thing that “would never happen” to them, so when it did, they were so scared and lost that they just did what was expected. And how can you blame them? I was there. I was faced with it. It is fucking scary as hell. I knew I was alone with this. Our society isn’t set up for my choice, only the other choice. If I had to make that decision without any thought about it before hand, I most likely would have had an abortion. Then I got mad. Why the hell aren’t we set up for both choices? Why is it, that having this child means my “life is over”? Why am I treated as if I should be punished for having this child? I’m not saying I thought someone should do all the hard work of parenting for me, but why are things set up to make it impossible? If I were in college, what would I have done? They don’t  allow babies in the dorms. I doubt there is childcare on campus. Shouldn’t we want to educate and help these mothers? Not make things impossible for them?

Abortion will never be illegal. I want to point something out that I didn’t realize until well into my adulthood. An abortion is aborting the pregnancy, not the fetus. You end the pregnancy, which results in the fetus dying if too young to live outside the womb. It needs to stay legal for the fact that some pregnancies become toxic to the mother and child, and without an early delivery, both would die. So we’re not even going to get into that debate if it should be legal or not. I am 100% opposed to partial birth abortion. That is killing. And I do believe doctors should be obligated to try to help a fetus that is born preterm due to an abortion. Aborting pregnancies should be used in cases of fatal risk to the mothers, and the fetus should be treated medically if possible.

So, Prolifers. Here are words for you, from someone who chose life. Being Prolife is more than just making sure someone pops out a kid. Prolife is supporting that life after it is born. Prolife is saying, I am happy you chose to have this baby, and I know it will be hard, but I want to help you. I want to help you find childcare so you can get a degree and support your child. I want to help you find a family to adopt, because you are not in a place to raise a child. I want to give myself, where I can, so you know you are supported. I want to come help you clean, or watch your baby for an hour so you can take a nap. Would you like someone to go with you to the doctors? What do you need?

Prochoicers. You need to educate yourself. If you have sex, you could be faced with this. You need to research embryonic and fetal development. You need to understand what procedures they use. You need to talk to those who have had, and have chose not to have abortions. You need to know the long term risks of cancer, infertility, and infections. I hear so much, it is just a medical procedure. Ok, then know it. You need to research the long term emotional effects. Then, after you have all the medical info, and you understand what will happen, long and short term, you need to imagine yourself looking at 2 lines on a stick. What would you do? Make that choice. You need to make an educated decision now. Not when your hormones and emotions are flying. Not when your girlfriend comes to you in tears, feeling lost and scared. You need to be able to know, that if that time ever came, you don’t have to feel panic or pressure with your choice.

I am Prolife. I am Prowoman. I am not naive. It is legal, and it is a huge money maker. I feel that instead of focusing on making it illegal, we should be instead focusing on educating woman. I have had MANY friends that felt it wasn’t a choice, and they were trapped. They were ignorant to all of it. They had never thought about it before, and their regret was not knowing what to do before hand. They felt conned and lied to about it. We need to be letting these woman actually have a choice. Face the guillotine face on, and refuse to be neutral. We need to know what we would say if a friend came to us and asked us what to do. We need to stop with the hate and judgment, and work on letting to woman in crisis know, she does have a choice. She doesn’t have to feel like her life is over. That this is just a different path, or a speed bump in life that she has to slow down for. And we need our men to know what woman would have to face. We need them to be able to sit with the woman and be able to have an opinion when asked. To not put the burden on the woman to make this decision alone. We need to just take a small amount of time out of our lives, and just know, so we can carry on with life with at least one of the many “guillotines” that we will face, has been seen, and we are no longer neutral.

The Freedom of Being Stuck

Growing up, there were two types of vacations. Going to some sort of amusement park, such as Cedar Point, Disney, or Six Flags, or the family road trip. Most times, it was the family road trip. There was always someone getting married, graduating, or we just hadn’t been to visit in a long time. I absolutely LOVED a fun filled, constant stimulating, amusement park type vacation. To me, THAT was what a vacation should be.

Then, my dad remarried when I was 15. My step mom’s family had a small place on the lake in Ludington, MI. I love the lake, and I love fishing. So I was pretty excited about this. So we all packed up on a hot July day, and headed to spend the week as a family. It was by far, the most uncomfortable vacation that I ever had. Not uncomfortable because of our new family, we all got along quite well. Uncomfortable because I didn’t know what to do. There was nothing planned. We literally were just stuck there. I was going out of my mind with boredom. I fished, went to the beach, took walks and found that I did everything there was to do in the first day we were there. For a teenager, this was TORTURE.

So, I picked up the book I brought, put my bikini on, and sat outside and read the whole thing. Then proceeded to read all the books my sisters brought as well. When was there going to be something fun to do?? Then it hit me, I’m stuck here, so I mine as well enjoy it. I started noticing the sounds, smells, and beauty all over. My hyper, over stimulated self left, and a new relaxed Beth took over. It ended up being one of the best vacations I’ve ever had. I felt recharged and peaceful. After that, I looked forward to our Ludington trips. I knew it was a week that there was no phone, no computer, no schedule. It was just quiet, slow paced peace.

I’m going to jump to another topic now. Have you ever lost or broke your phone? It’s the WORST. It makes you feel lost, helpless, and disconnected. And to all those, “How did we ever l survive without phones? Back in my day…” people, I get it. I remember only having a house phone. I didn’t have a phone as teenager either. But the reality is, a cell phone is a NEED for me. My job, my kids, and yes, (don’t downplay the importance of) my social outlet. Losing/breaking your phone can make your life come to holt.

This has happened to me MANY times. Usually, it would mean I would be without a phone for 1-3 days. My response is usually the same. Anger, frustration, and sadness, which I definitely share with anyone that will listen to me. Then, like with my trip to Ludington, I have a moment where I realize I am stuck. It’s not going to get here any faster because I’m pissed off about it. So I just go with it.

There is a certain amount of freedom in not having a phone. Instead of reading my FB news feed, I would read a book. Instead of playing a phone game, I would play a board game. Once I accepted there wasn’t constant stimulation, I enjoyed all the other things I never had time for before.

This last week I wanted to leave. My kids were gone, and I wanted to take a trip sonewhere…anywhere. It didn’t happen. I spent the first half of my vacation helping my mom after surgery, and the second half, I am now stuck at home. I cried, threw an adult version of a temper tantrum, and finally came to accept that you know what, I can’t change it. Now that I’ve let go of the expectation of what my vacation week was supposed to look like, I can enjoy it.

After 30 years on this planet, you think that I would be able to have this realization a little quicker. But you know what? It’s hard to let go of what we think we need or want and take life, with all it’s obstacles, and decide to enjoy an alternative. We all know to “make the best” of any situation, but sometimes it takes being stuck with no way out to finally be able to have peace with the fact that we don’t have control. Maybe other’s don’t need to be completely cornered in life to finally slow themselves down, but I do. I want to do everything. I want to go everywhere. I want to constantly be on the go and be around people.

I honestly believe that I NEED to be alone with nothing and no one to be preparing for. No to-do list or itinerary. Nothing to take up my thoughts or time. No plans made, and no expectations. Now I can work on my personal stuff I always put off. I can let my mind wander and my creativity progress uninterrupted. I am free, if only for a few days. I need to appreciate that.

This One Time, I was Homeless. It was Great.

I was homeless for almost 2 months. Very recently actually. Like, up until a couple weeks ago. Let me clarify that I was NOT living on the streets as one might assume by the word “homeless”. I was living in the basement of dear friends of mine. Let me back up a bit. In March 2015, for reasons that I consider large enough to warrant a quick decision, I left my fiance. Said incident happened on a Friday, I was gone by Sunday, with kids in tow. And yes, I am purposely leaving out the juicy “why” of the sudden split, because frankly, it doesn’t matter. I’m not asking you to make a judgement call or weigh in on whether it was the right thing to do. If you know me, you know I always aim to make the best decisions for my children. Even if hard or heartbreaking.

My sister was going to be out of town for a week, and offered her place to stay. I shoved all of our clothes into trash bags and loaded up my car and headed to her place. I spent the next week in a mild haze. What was I going to do? Where was I going to go? How am I going to afford to live on my own? I cannot believe I have to start over AGAIN. There was no place to go. No houses to rent, and no way I could buy my own house. I was stuck. Then I got a text that changed everything. My friend Kris messaged me teasing, “David says he will barter a haircut for our “basement suite” for you guys.” Phew. I have the next week covered.

Well, one week turned into over 6 weeks. How many of you just cringed a bit? We know what they say about house guests right? If I heard that, I would assume someone was taking advantage of hospitality. I could not imagine how any family would willingly take in a single mother with three kids for THAT long. That sounds like a situation where a friendship ends and there is a lot of emotion and tension.

As the receiver of this hospitality, I worried that the stress and anxiety of being in someone else’s house was going to push me over the edge. We all clean better, act nicer, are more polite, organized, etc, when we’re guests. I know myself. This was going to stress me out to the max. I knew I would only be able to maintain the “guest Beth” persona for a week, two max. So panic set in about the urgency of finding a place before disorganized, emotional, spastic Beth would come out. I loved this family and REALLY didn’t want them to regret their decision to let us live here.

Hands down, the BEST homeless situation I could have possibly asked for. These last couple months have been so full of love, compassion, kindness, and contentment. No judgement, no guilt, no manipulation, no animosity, just peace. Moving into my own place, while exciting, brought a certain amount of sorrow with it. I didn’t want to leave this family. I saw my children thrive here. I hadn’t had an anxiety attack the entire time I lived here. I could just state my needs, or ask for what they needed and there was a completely open line of communication. I wasn’t made to feel bad if I needed to cry and vent. I was NEVER made to feel like a burden. I felt accepted and appreciated. Is this family perfect? Absolutely not, none of us are. But there is a self awareness they have, that freed me to just be my loud, flighty, imperfect, self right with them.

So what do I do with this experience? What have I learned from all this? First off, I’ve learned how important it is to be grateful for the sacrifice others give to you. Seems like a pretty obvious lesson. But I feel it needs to be stated. Gratitude is something we MUST hold on to. My existing doesn’t entitle me to anything except the space my physical body takes up. How many woman DON’T leave because they have no where to go? What would I have done if I didn’t have anyone to take me in?

I would say, the biggest lesson I have learned from all this is from the other side of the situation. How completely selfless of this family to take in my family, no questions asked. Would you do that? Think about it. How many excuses do we make because we wouldn’t want the inconvenience of someone else’s problems. I was desperate. I was HOMELESS, with three kids. Did I choose it? Yes, I chose to respond to a situation the only way I could. I have actually had people say, “You chose this. You’re going to have to figure it out.” (We’ve come so far haven’t we….I should probably just put up with it. I probably deserved whatever happened, right?….I asked for it.)

We HAVE to change this “not my problem” approach to life. And this, “You didn’t do it the way I would have, so you deserve to suffer.” Yes, these were MY problems. Whether due to the fact that life just took a shit on me, or I made bad choices, the reality was, I needed help. My kids needed a stable place. And I needed one person to have compassion and say, “I care about you. So this IS my problem too.” I needed someone to say, “We don’t want you or your children to suffer.” That’s what Dave and Kris did. They said, we love you, so if you’re hurting, we’re hurting. If you need, and we can provide, we will.  It brings me to tears to think about how rare this is to find people like this. They are a treasure. I am I different, better, person because of them. To watch them parent their children, and include mine like family, to not ONCE feel like I needed to make myself scarce or that I was somehow intruding in their personal life, they were inclusive and sincere.

Does this mean you need to take in any person wandering around looking for a place? No way. That would be unsafe. What I mean by all this is, if I’m ever in a position where someone is in need, and I can give them what they need (not what I THINK they need) I will to just do. Don’t ask how they got there. Don’t explain what they did wrong. Just simply, see the need, and lighten the burden. To just love and know I AM responsible for other people. We can’t help every person, every time. Sometimes, we have to say no. But if we can, then we need to.

Matthew Stutz Thought I Was Cool

My brother Matthew was kind of an asshole. Now, I’m aloud to say that. Because I’m his sister. You are not. I would say that to him quite often. “Matt, you are such an ass.” He would do this small laugh, a half smile, and a small shrug. “Yup. I am.” See, he wasn’t really an asshole. He was actually a good guy. But he had this way about him that could make you just want to smack him. Such a cocky guy. SO good with people. He could walk into a room, and anyone there would want him to like them. He seemed so calm and put together all the time. Nothing intimidated him, he could take on the world with that smirk and laid back nature. See, I’m the opposite. I am usually a frantic mess and quite flighty. I always have a guilty look on my face, and people would assume I was up to no good. So, his natural ability to take any situation and make it work for him would make me give him that look of, “are you effing serious” and he would give one back of, “Well, I’m Matt. Jealous much?” Which would result in the, “You’re such an asshole.”

My brother was one of my best friends growing up. Since his death, I’ve done a lot of thinking and reminiscing, like most do after a loss. I remembered this one time we were teenagers at the mall. We were being obnoxious, and we were confronted by a sales lady. Of course, I looked like I was up to no good. She immediately started the lecture and verbal reprimand. Then Matt spoke. He made small joke and like a freaking Jedi mind trick, had the lady laughing and telling us to have a nice day. I wanted to look at him in disbelief, but it happened so often, that I just said, “You’re an ass” to which he replied, “You’re welcome.” Everyone liked Matt. You couldn’t help it. He always had a witty comeback, a funny joke, the perfect movie quote, and could say more with his facial expression than his words. I had the coolest big brother ever.

I now know why losing a sibling is such a horrid thing. It’s because they are one of the few people in the world who really know YOU. Not the you the world sees, but the REAL you. They see you when you’re trying out new styles and look like an idiot. They sit with you listening to Eminem on repeat so you can memorize Real Slim Shady. They are the ones who you don’t care if they see you pick your nose or hear you fart or see you picking at your zits in the mirror. They are the ones you cry with when Mom and Dad are just so unfair, or cover for because they didn’t do their chore. They’re the ones you ask stuff to when you don’t want to look like an idiot to your friends for not knowing. I mean, they may make fun of you for all that stuff, but it doesn’t matter. They would never rat you out for being uncool, because you saw their insecure, nerdy, real selves as well. The sibling bond is like no other. And it doesn’t go away. When you sit by that adult that is so put together, you can still see that kid, that teen, that friend.

It hurts. To know someone to the core of who they are, and them know you, and then they’re just gone. I wish I could go back and just be that kid, or teen again for awhile. I want to argue about who gets the last of the Lucky charms and tell him he cheated at battleship. I want to build a fort outside and pretend we are being invaded. I want to go hang out at the movie theater and get mad at him for hitting on my friends. I want to drive around in his Olds with music on, and ask him what THAT line was, because I couldn’t understand it. I want to yell for him to throw the football to me and then him yell at me for dropping it like I always do. I want to watch Loony Toons on Saturday morning and hear him bust out laughing that incredibly loud Matt laugh, while dad makes french toast and eggs.

My big brother. That super cool guy that was actually a huge nerd. The one that I could make bust out laughing, and was always excited to tell me about this “cool new” thing. We did mission work in Mexico together. We went to Steubenville every summer. We argued over lyrics of songs (that I was always right on because I saw it on “Say What Karaoke” so I knew). We hid CDs like Limp Bizkit from mom so we could tape them (which she found and snapped in half) and then sat up talking about how unfair parents were.

Losing my brother sucks. So much. Even as an adult I wanted him to think I was cool. The last time I saw him was after my dads funeral. We talked about bullshit. It was great. We watched our kids play together at DQ and went to the movies. The last time we talked to eachother was on Facebook. We talked about art. He was telling me how much he loved my comic I was doing. He told me he loved how extroverted I was and that he would never have the balls to draw a comic, let alone post it online. And you know what? I was a 30 year old 7 year old. Super excited that my big brother was impressed by me. That was Matt though. You wanted him to like you. It meant the world when he noticed you. Not because he didn’t notice people, he did. He noticed a lot and had a big heart. But because he had a gift of charisma that made him like a magnet to those around him.

I love you Matthew. Thank you so much for being in my life and for being my best friends through all those tough years. I’m so glad I got to see you again one last time. I will miss you. You are a part of who I’ve become, and I’m so proud I was able to be part of who you became.