Tag: growing

It matters to me. So I’m just going to say it.

When I was a kid, my mom had a friend with a daughter who was just awful. She was rude, bratty, mean, and selfish. We would often have playdates while our moms visited. It was always exciting and anxiety ridden. This little girl had EVERY toy. It was kid heaven. Unfortunately, her mom took a firm stand on the “I’m not going to force my kid to share if she doesn’t want to. Adults don’t have to share, so why do we make kids?” belief. (I would like to add that I do not make my children share things that are important or special to them. If that’s your favorite toy, offer them another one. Set your boundaries, but still be kind an inclusive.) So we would go to this kids house and she would not let us touch anything. Or she would give us crappy, broken toys.

She was also super nasty to my little sister. Try to scare her with things, make fun of her, give her things and take them away, etc. My sister would cry and she would straight up lie about what happened. I would watch this happen. Sometimes I would tell what really happened, but she usually had an excuse and then would act out on me. So I would just ignore it. I wasn’t looking to have that nastiness aimed at me. I seemed to have worked my way into the “I guess you can play with some stuff” arena. And I was going to keep that going. We would tell our mom in the car about how mean she was, and our mom would comfort us and tell us that she is glad we weren’t mean and selfish.

Then, one day, my little sister wasn’t playing with us. I don’t remember why. Sick? Sleeping? Gone? Whatever the reason, I was the “little one” then. I’m sure you can guess what that meant for me. She spent the visit terrorizing me. Not to the extent of my sister, since I was older, but enough to leave me in tears, wanting to go home.

There are a lot of times in life that we see injustice done and we continue to let it happen because it’s not directly affecting us. Racism. Classism. Sexism. Homophobia. Abuse. We know these things. We may even talk about them amongst ourselves in agreement that they’re wrong. But how often do we put ourselves out there when these things happen? If little kid Bethy had loudly took a stand against that bully, to my mom as it was happening, then maybe some change could have happened. Yes, being validated though conversation is a good thing. But it doesn’t solve the problem. There may be a day when that problem becomes your own. Will just you want someone to agree with you and carry on with life? Or will you want them to actively take a stand on your behalf?

While there are many examples of this in life, there is one that has been weighing on me. After talking to my husband about it, I decided that it’s something I should share publicly.

I am bisexual.

“You’re married to a man, so who cares?” I care. The bisexual community cares.

There are a few in my life know this. A lot that do not. Up until now, I didn’t think it was relevant to share. I always thought, “If I ever fall in love with a woman, then I will come out. What’s the point of causing issue if it’s not necessary?”

One of the most difficult things is trying to explain bisexuality to someone who thinks they know, and doesn’t care to learn.

When I was 15/16 I was working a Greek restaurant. There was this teenage girl that would come in on a regular basis. She was beautiful, funny, sweet, and every time I saw her I would get butterflies and my face would turn red. It was very confusing since I was raised very “Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve”. I had crushes on famous females growing up. Clarissa was SO PRETTY AND COOL AND FUNNY. But just thought it must be that I admired them. Wanted to be like them. I wasn’t attracted to my female friends, and I did like boys. So I am definitely straight. Right? That teenage girl flooded me with confusion. Am I GAY?

After almost 20 years, I now understand what is misunderstood by most. Bisexuality is not turning on or off gayness or straightness. It is it’s own thing. I am attracted to and have the capacity to love both male and females. I am not straight just because I am married to a man. And the woman I’ve romantically been with didn’t make me gay. I am consistantly attracted to both genders. Not constantly, like some believe. Consistantly. Being bisexual does not mean I am going to run off with a woman or that I want a polygamist relationship. If you can be a straight person who is married, and see an attractive person of the opposite sex without feeling the urge to run off, you should be able to comprehend that I can be attracted to woman but be married to man. It’s the same exact thing. Commitment is specific to the person, not their sexual orientation.

I feel like a coward. Because I’m married to a man, I have the option to never tell anyone. I can sit here living as a straight person and it wouldn’t affect me in the slightest. I can discuss inequality and the rights of the LGBT community, but I can do it from a safe place of observation. I don’t have make people uncomfortable. I can ignore when people make homophobic jokes because they are not aware they of that aspect of me. Cowardice.

As I watch the rights of the LGBT community being chipped away, I am faced with the reality of my complacency. I talked to my husband about it, “what if something happened to you? And years from now I met a woman and fell in love with her? How many other woman are out there just like me, who find a woman instead of a man and are terrified to be with them because of the direction our country is taking? I feel like I need to come out. It seems silly since you’re a man and I’m not dating anymore. But I feel like I’ve turned my back on the LGBT community. I feel like my ‘I’ll come out if I have to’ approach is the same as saying I don’t want to have to suffer unnecessarily at the hands of bullies, so I’m going to sell off a part of my self to keep things nice for ME. I feel selfish.”

Like being little kids playing with that bully. I didn’t want to rock the boat. I felt bad, and even spoke out about things. But I liked not being the target and it ate at me not doing the right thing.

This post feels very anticlimactic. Because there’s nothing life changing for me. I am still exactly who I am. Learning this about me won’t change my relationships with you unless you change it. Will I get backlash? Oh I’m pretty sure. My kids have shared some of the things they’ve heard adults say about the gay community. About them going to hell. About them being disgusting. About how people should have the right to discriminate against them. My kids have come to me upset that there are adults that say such awful hateful things, while I have raised them to understand that love is love. There are different kinds. And no one’s love looks the same. I have told them that if they or any of their friends ever came out, I would protect and defend them from anyone who said hateful things.

I am bisexual. It does not affect my life as my life is now. But denying or ignoring this aspect of my life supports those who are trying to associate homosexuality with shame. And I refuse to feel shame about this aspect of who I am.

Hi. I am Beth. And I’m a toxic person.

One of my favorite things that social media and technology has brought to my generation is its ability to help us cope, understand, and process dysfunction and toxicity that is in our lives. I see it all the time. People in my age group properly able to identify unhealthy behavior in themselves and in others. That doesn’t mean they necessarily know how to deal with it, but they can identify it. Which is a huge step.

A few weeks back I had a friend say to me, “I feel like I’m gaslighting them! I didn’t even realize I was doing it. They deserve better than that.” My friend was 100% serious and concerned about it. The self awareness this person has in their 30s is astounding to me. They are toxic. They know they are. And they are able to zero in on exactly what they are doing that is dysfunctional, and even tell me why they think they are like this. 

I am a toxic person. I have the potential to suck out all the life of a person. I can manipulate. I can read people and very quickly know what they are insecure about. I can sense vulnerability and dysfunction like a freaking superpower. I can also tell when a person is emotionally healthy. I can feel boundaries that are set (or not set) almost immediately after meeting someone. My comfort zone is filled with toxic interactions and unhealthy behaviors. 

I sound like a gem, eh? Well, I think I am. Not because that stuff doesn’t matter. Because I fight that stuff EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Ask anyone who knew me in my 20s. Talk to my exes. I was not a bad person. But I was broken. The adult I was trying to be was not one on a healthy path. It was one who used white lies, cheated, and manipulated to get my way. I didn’t want to be like that. I did not like seeing the ones I loved hurt by me. 

I started seeing a therapist. I started making a conscious effort. I had to learn how to purge the toxicity from my interactions. It sucked. It was hard. No…not was. It is hard. I find when I’m with other people working on themselves, or people that are emotionally stable, it is easy. I can relax and just be. But the moment someone with dysfunction enters my life, I want to retreat to my ever so toxic comfort zone. I can feel it. I can hear it in what I say. I leave feeling angry at myself. Ashamed. 

I like to cut people in their 20s some slack. That decade is such a shit hole anyways. Add in having to process through childhood/adolescence and you’re left with some pretty lost adults who are trying to sort through 2 decades of preparation for adulthood. It’s exhausting and can be overwhelming. But once you’re in your 30s, get your shit together. You have had over a decade of making your own choices. At this point, your life is what you have made it. Acknowledge what you’ve been through and grow. 

I am a toxic person. I have to know this always. I have to understand and be compassionate to those who distance themselves from me. I have to work 10x as hard to make sure I keep my toxicity from my children. I need to make sure my children find dysfunction uncomfortable and wrong. I have to make sure I guard myself from others who take me by the hand and try to lead me down to that place I’ve escaped from. I need to acknowledge what brought me to this point, but not dwell on it, blame does not add to my growth. I need to know that when I do slip up, I tell whoever I hurt I was wrong and they deserve better. 

If you are a toxic person, you are not a bad person. Every day, every interaction, you have a choice to do better, to be better. Find a therapist. (I know I know, therapist shopping is the WORST. But don’t settle for one that isn’t helping you.) Start working on rewiring yourself. Your life will be happier. Your relationships will be better. You will thrive. 

It’s hard to come back from distrust.

I am a very human human. Meaning, with me, there is absolutely no delusions of being perfect. There is a certain amount of peace that comes with being self aware of your faults. There is also a large responsibility to face them head on. I really try to stay humble and make a concerted effort to not excuse wrongs I’ve done. This is an important step in growing as a person. And it is NOT fun. 

There are certain people we count on to be support through our growth. They are on your side, trying to help you succeed. Parents. Siblings. Friends. Pastors. Teachers. And many others. We all know who we can go to and say, “I messed up” to. I want to talk about one trusted person in my life who let myself and my children down. They failed us. They failed themselves. 

Story time. December 23, 2016. I excitedly went to my home parish for a meeting about my son being baptized. I had been through this before with my 3 other children, so I knew what to expect. I filled out the necessary paperwork and waited for the priest to come in. 

I could tell immediately the priest was agitated. It is days before Christmas, and he is new to the parish. I am sure his stress was maxed. I thanked him for meeting with me and introduced my children. He slammed down the paperwork and sat in a huff. At this point I am feeling guilty for taking up his time during such a busy season. So I tell myself, keep it brief, Beth. 

Name? Catholic? Oh really. Then what parish? Because I don’t recall seeing you every week. Child’s name? Father? Where is he? Oh so he must be an atheist. Are you with him? So you just had a baby with some guy? And how’s that going to work? Huh? 

Each question I answered straight to the point. With each question, his voice got harsher and his body language became more hostel. I was confused. Taken off guard. It took me way longer than it should have to realize this man was mistreating me. I asked him what he meant. I didn’t understand why it wouldn’t work. Then he raised his voice, “What I mean is, HOW are you going to raise you child Catholic when the father is an atheist? And you’re OBVIOUSLY not a Catholic either?? You’re expecting me to believe that? How? What about any of this tells me THAT CHILD will be raised Catholic?” 

I could feel the lump in my throat. “Because I’ve raised my other 3 children Catholic? They go to the Catholic school. They’ve received their sacraments. I am Catholic. I don’t understand why tou would think I wouldn’t.” He grabs the paper and slams his finger against the dad’s name, “This is why! This man is is not THEIR (points to my other children) father too! CATHOLICS DON’T HAVE SEX BEFORE THEY’RE MARRIED. You are NOT Catholic!”

The tears begin. 

Oh quit being so melodramatic! I don’t need to KNOW you. I’ve heard enough about you and your reputation! I know exactly what kind of a person YOU are! It’s not my job to CARE about your feelings. You didn’t make a mistake. You made a SIN. You are a sinner. STOP CRYING CALM DOWN AND QUIT BEING SO EMOTIONAL. Why would I ever believe you? You don’t live as a Catholic if you’re having SEX! Wah wah wah boo hoo! 

Every time I talked he got angrier. Slammed his fists on the table. Stood up and shoved the chair aside. Leaned across the table and out his finger in my face. 

I sent my kids in the hallway and he proceeded to yell and mock me for crying. He didn’t want to hear anything I had to say. He was angry at me for wasting his time when he had real Catholics to help.

Ultimately, he refused to baptize my son. I left shaking and sobbing. I had an expectation for this man. I expected to be met with love and kindness. Approval? No. But kindness, yes. He failed me. 

I got in the car and looked at my children. They were all crying too. And my heart shattered. Does this man know what he has done? He just robbed my children of innocence. I remember being a kid. Seeing the priest as almost a movie star. Getting excited to shake their hand. Feeling special if they new my name. Seeing them as someone holy. I didn’t realize that adults weren’t perfect. I was trusting. He just stole that from my kids. My kids just watched a 55 year old man verbally attack their mother. They just watched their “trusted” pastor refuse to let their brother, who they love more than anything, be part if the church. They were just shown someone in power be unforgiving and withhold compassion and understanding. I was so angry. My children were scandalized by this and I couldn’t fix it. 

I am a big girl. I can handle judgement. But my children? My kids will learn soon enough the world is imperfect. They will see with their own eyes that being in a higher position does not mean that a person is perfect. They will see the human in humans. He stole a part of their innocence. 

Their are certain people that are held to a higher standard. And they should be. Priests, teachers, police, government, etc. We don’t expect perfection, but we expect them to be putting the maximum amount of effort towards their pitfalls. 

This priest was removed from our parish. Not because of me, but because of another complaint that was filed by another female. This has brought me a bit of peace about it. I kept thinking, what if it wasn’t me he did that to? I can see this man and say, this is not the Catholic church. But what if I was someone with less roots in the faith? What if I was a pregnant woman seeking guidence? What if I had PTSD from an abusive relationship? 

Not all priests are bad. Most are good. But the bad ones NEED to be removed. We need to make sure that we keep our standard high. We need to protect ourselves from the bad ones. Every new priest that comes to our parish make my kids nervous. “I sure hope he’s not a mean one!” 

If a teacher was singling your child out, bullying, or mistreating them, we would want them fired, right? We would advocate for our children. 

If a police officer were mistreating a civilian, he should be fired, right? If my kids watched as an officer harassed and mistreated me, that would stay with them forever. Every police they met they would be met with distrust and caution. That’s why we hold them to a higher standard. Because we want them to feel happy to see the police. Feel safer with them there. 

Black children are scandalized by police, the way my children were by the priest. And it isn’t even a specific police officer. It’s the fact that their parents have warn them, from a young age, about the possibility of being targeted. They don’t get to grow up feeling safe every time they see a cop. I cannot imagine how heartbreaking it has to be to explain how severe the consequences could be if they don’t submit to them immediately. Having to tell my kids that respect isn’t enough. They have to be submissive. 

What about the good ones? Most officers do protect and serve the way they’re supposed to. These horrible officers, that are killing blacks, they are making it SO much harder on the good ones. It is so much harder to regain trust once it’s broken. 

This is why we have #blm. This is why we #takeaknee. Because we need to get those bad officers off the force. We need them to be held accountable. We need them to be fired. So the good ones can keep us safe and so our children can grow up admiring the police, not fearing them. When our kids do do something wrong (because, let’s face it, kids if all races are naughty), they should be scared about the officer telling their parent, not be scared their going to be shot. They should be embarrassed they broke the law or caused problems, not feel like their skin color is a crime. 

For every priest, teacher, or police, that is doing good, I admire you. I know it is hard to weed out the bad ones, but it needs to be done. I know your workload is heavier then it should be, but your strength is what we need.  

Bringing it down to the Basics

It was 2011. I was newly divorced, in school full time, working as many hours as I could get, and raising 3 kids. Looking back, it’s almost comical that I thought I could have an organized house as well. 

“What do you need?” My friend Kris asked me. She had come over with the intention to clean/organize/help. I was drowning in my life and I desperately needed someone to throw me a lifesaver. 

“I don’t know. I mean. I guess the toys. I can’t think because there is so much everywhere. The toys go there. Top drawer is dolls. Second is dress up. Bottom draws is everything else. I don’t know. They’re all mixed up.” I told her showing her my organizer. “And art stuff goes here. Paper in this drawer, crayons and markers in this one, and the other stuff in that one.”

“No. That’s too much. You need to simplify it. How about toys here, and art stuff here.”

“But. Everything has a place. I just…”

“What a your goal? What do you want in here?”

“I want the toys off the floor. I want to walk through my house without stepping on stuff.”

“Beth. The girls can help. They need to. You can’t do it all, so we need to find a way that is simple. So the kids can do it.”

I had to let go of some control. Here’s the thing, (for those who don’t know how it is to function with ADHD) I have to be that uptight about things. Chaos around me gives anxiety. I forget things. I lose things. Everything has a place, because otherwise, nothing has a place. 

So I changed the rules. Instead if having such strong stipulations on where the kids put the toys, I just made sure they were put away. It worked. The kids didn’t feel overwhelmed with helping. So I started simplifying other aspects of my life. 

Sorting socks? Nope. I don’t have time. My goal is to have clean socks when we need them. Boom. New rule, sock basket. All the clean socks in the house are in there. Find your own. While thes things were not ideal for my house, I found the amount of stress that was lifted was definitely worth letting go. 

Sometimes, when I feel overwhelmed, I like to bring it down the the basics. Not forever, just for long enough to gain some perspective. Not just with household chores, but with friendships, parenting, work, and everything else. 

Parenting. What is the goal? I’m sure your response would be something about love, or God, or kindness, or being strong or something like that. No. Those are not the goals. Those are the personal details you have set for what are actually the goals. 

There are 2 things your kid needs from you. Two. Taking it to The basics. These 2 things are the backbone of why you make any and all decisions regarding your kids. And if they’re not, you need to reevaluate your motives in parenting.

The first, let them keep their innocence as long as possible. We protect them from the horrors of the world so that they can develop into who they are truly meant to be. Life has a way of hardening us. Our children need to keep the tenderness, and awe for life and the world as long as possible.

The second, produce functional adults. Our children need to be able live and function in society someday. We cannot shelter them forever. They need to be able to socialize. They need to be able to work a job. They need to be able to keep themselves safe when you’re not there. They need to be able to think and make choices. 
These goals sound contradictory. You can see why teenage years are so tough. Constantly trying to balance protecting our teen while at the same time knowing in a few short years they need to be able to function in the world. 

Now, what is your definition of innocence? What do you consider a functioning adult? This is where our parenting styles come into play. We make choices every day with these in mind. “No, sorry, Sally isn’t allowed to sleep over until she’s older.” Or “Rinse your bowl.” Or “Sure, Jimmy can definitely go out with his friends after the game.” Based on our childhoods, usually, we decide what we will or will not do with our kids. 

If you are an overwhelmed parent, bring it to the basics. Ask yourself, is this helping them keep their innocence or helping them develop into a functioning adult? If it doesn’t fit one of those 2 things, quit fretting about it. Quit being angry about it. Quit wearing yourself down over it. 

Someday I will sort socks again. And you know what? The toys in my house are now sorted. The art stuff all has a place. It took 7 years, but I got it back slowly. Just because it’s not ideal, doesn’t mean it’s bad. My house is a disaster. Why? Because I want the kids to help clean. And honestly, they don’t do a great job. My kids need a mom who helps show them. Not a mom who yells and shames them. 

You know what your kids need. You know what type of adult you hope they become (or possibly one you don’t want them to become). Have a little faith in yourself. Take a deep breathe, and let go. 

One More Lesson from my Grandpa

My grandpa died last week. I have received very kind words, support, condolences, and love from everyone I see. It usually goes the same way. 

“Were you close?” They ask. 

“Yes we were.” I respond.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Cue hug, encouraging comment and subject change. 

They always ask if we were close. You don’t get that question as much when it’s your dad or brother dying. But when it’s a grandparent, I guess there are people who don’t have very much involvement or relationship. In my family, it would be a near impossible feat to not maintain some sort of relationship.

As with any loss, I have been doing a lot of thinking and reminiscing. I have spent the week thinking about my relationship with my grandpa. See, I’m one of the first grandkids. Number 5 actually. There are 32 of us. And 15 (plus two on the way) great grand kids. That’s a lot. So my experience with my grandparents is completely different than what my younger cousins have had. 

I would tell my kids all the time, “The Papa Watts I had was NOT the same Papa Watts you have. He may be physically the same man, but he was a completely different person when I was a kid.” See, I had a grandpa who was still working. A grandpa who still had teenagers and kids of his own in the house. I can still feel the cold tile floor under my feet as I run up to him. He would give me a hug and I could smell the coffee and cigarettes on him. If it were a Sunday afternoon, he would be yelling to “Shut that damn door. Were yout born in a barn?” He would try to adjust a bent hanger that was hooked to the back of the TV in the living room. Trying to get some sort reception on whatever football game was going on. Yelling at us to go outside and to be quiet so he could hear.The other adults didn’t seemed upset about him yelling. So even though it was scary, I knew it was ok. 

My grandma would be doing something in the kitchen. I honestly can’t recall a single moment in my childhood where she was sitting. She would be cleaning, cooking, baking, or refilling coffee for the grown ups. She was the approachable one. My grandpa was kind of scary and loud and always seemed tired and angry. He would tell the occasional joke, or hold the babies, but for the most part, he wanted the kids to make themselves scarce. 

Then, he retired. I was just entering adolescence and we moved from Grand Rapids into my grandparents old house. His retirement, coupled with him finding his faith changed him. I was able to see him become more gentle, loving, and involved. I remember him getting irritated about all the people constantly in and out of the house. Too many visitors and kids. And my grandma said, “What do you think has been going on here for the last 40 years”. This made me laugh. For the first time, I think my grandpa realized all that my grandma had been doing. He slowly started to soften and slow down. 

I remember watching him walk around their house, holding my cousin Seth and pointing to every picture on the wall and tell Seth who was in each one. He would walk him around outside and point at the birds and trees. I don’t remember him doing this with any of the older cousins. 

Over the years I watched him become closer to us grandkids and the great grandkids. I could sit an talk with him and my grandma and enjoy the conversation. He didn’t seem nearly as annoyed with the kids running in and out or eating all the cookies. He was kinder. 

I am glad I got both versions. So many times in our young adulthood, we are trying to define ourselves. We are trying so hard to figure out who we are, what we want, and where we’re going. We do this with the assumption that once we figure it out, we can sit content in our self discovery. But we will NEVER find that contentment. Because we never stop changing. And hopefully we are changing into better versions of ourselves. Kinder, gentler, versions of ourselves.

Love you Grandpa. You have loved and inspired so many people. Even after death I find you teaching me life lessons. 

Teaching My Kids to Acknowledge Struggle

Yesterday, my kids and I had a conversation about my parenting. My teenage brother was watching them, and he was stressed out and started yelling and being, well, a teenager. They were very upset about it and my middle daughter explained, in great detail, everything that was said and done. I listened and thought while she spoke, about how to respond.

I’m going to paraphrase, but I said something along the lines of, “It is not ok for him to raise his voice to you. Or use cuss words. And I’m glad you told me about it. We all struggle with stuff. You know what his struggle in life is going to be? His temper and his self control. Is he a mean guy? No. Does he hate you guys? No. He just doesn’t know what to do when he feels out of control with stuff. This is something he is going to HAVE TO learn. Because you know what’s going to happen if he doesn’t? He’s going to end up losing friendships, or relationships. Or even worse, he could end up actually hurting someone or going to jail. But you know what? That’s not your problem. He is not your problem. Those are HIS problems. Your job is to keep yourself safe and to make sure he knows that’s not ok to be like around you. Walk away and tell a grown up. Don’t yell back, don’t try to explain yourself to him. Leave and let him sit in his own anger. He doesn’t get to blame you for his loss of self control. We are only in control of ourselves.”

During this conversation, each kid piped in with questions and thoughts. “What if we walk away, but he follows us and keeps yelling?” Then, tell him that YOU need a min to calm down. Keep it about yourself. “I get angry too. Sometimes I just can’t control it and I yell and stuff.” So, you understand that it doesn’t mean you hate that person, or that you’re a mean person. What do you think after you yell at someone? “I feel really bad for hurting their feelings. And I get embarrassed and worried they hate me.”  So, maybe you should go tell them sorry? That it wasn’t their fault you lost your temper? Don’t you think they would be happy to know that you realize you were wrong and care about them? It’s the same with my brother. I guarantee he feels bad for making you cry. Maybe you should tell him you forgive him. Tell him you know it’s hard to control emotions, and you know he’s trying too. That could make him feel like he’s not hated. And encourage him to keep working on it. Sometimes we don’t think people notice we’re struggling or trying. Let him know you notice.

Then I said, “Can I tell you guys a secret? Parents, we have no idea what we’re doing. We think we know, and then they hand you this brand new, beautiful baby, and you realize, uh oh….I have no clue what to do. We’re all just figuring it out as we go. There will be things that you hate about my parenting. You will grow up and say. ‘I will never do “this” with my kids.’ And then there will be other things that you love, and will say, ‘I am so glad my mom did “this” with me.” I do it. Everyone does. I try really hard to look at you guys and make decisions that will help you know yourself and to help you get through things that you’re going to struggle with.”

They all reassured me that I was the best mom in the world and that they love me. I smiled told them I loved them more than anything. I would love to have that moment froze in time. I know their admiration for me will fade in the next few years as we enter into the teenager phase. That’s what I wanted to say. That really, I feel like I’m just working on the preparations for the years I’m the “worst mom in the world”. That I am hoping to give them enough tools and self awareness, that as the enter the years of feeling alone and misunderstood, they still have parts of themselves established enough to make it through.

Self awareness. That’s what I want for them. I am very self aware. Have been for most my life. I was never completely delusional about life. Even as a teenager, I remember thinking, “Man I love peer pressure. I am such a sucker for it.” I even knew why I liked it. It was because I felt like not knowing what was expected of me gave me anxiety. Peer pressure was straight up telling me what was expected. I was not stupid. Most the time, I didn’t have to be manipulated by my peers. I could see right through their intentions.

I think about how many oblivious adults there are. Absolutely no self awareness or self responsibility. No intention of finding solutions for their struggles. They just accept it as part of themselves, and expect others to just deal with it. No growth. And they’re raising children with the same mentality. I am not. I want my kids to enter adulthood KNOWING they have to work for the rest of their lives adapting and growing. They need to make choices on who they want to be, and accept it is in their control, no one else’s. I also want them to know that not everyone will do this, and that’s not their problem. They can, and should, walk away from situations that don’t help them grow as a person. That the “this is how I am, accept it” is a lie. We don’t have to accept it. That a broken person who is trying, is worth investing in, but a person content in their toxic nature should be avoided at all costs.

Will this lesson last into adulthood? I have no idea. Because, they are their own person. With their own thoughts, feelings, ideas, and experiences. This is where I have to take my own advice and realize that I don’t have control. No amount of guilt, manipulation, or lecturing will make this resonate with them. The only thing I can do is keep asking them questions, and listen to and answer their’s. Hopefully, I am growing strong minds which will learn to come to their own conclusions.

I feel like I should set an alarm to go off in 10 years for me to reread this post. Because, I know 41 year old Beth will have wisdom and growth I’m lacking now. I would love to hear her thoughts on all this. But, wisdom can’t just be learned through being told, so it wouldn’t matter anyways. Wisdom is something you just have to let develop with time.

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.

You Taste so Sweet…er…Sour?

I tell my children that they should always retry foods they dislike. Because our taste buds change as we grow, and something we thought was gross, could actually taste great now, and we’d be missing out if we didn’t revisit it after some time. So Audrey now likes cucumbers. Nadia now dislikes mustard, and Genevieve likes ranch more than ketchup.

That being said, multiple times a week, I will get on my Facebook account and see a notification for a “like” from someone I forgot was on my friends list. Usually, my first thought is, “oh sweet, they didn’t hide me on their news feed”. I guess I just assume all those people I added years ago, that I attended high school with, worked with, etc, have no interest in my constant posts. The second thing I think, usually pertains to how I knew them, and what I was going through in my life at the time I knew them. Which, a lot of times, leads to some facebook creeping to see what they’re up to.

The other day, I got on and had one of these occurrences. In my, “reminiscent” moment, I had a brief, almost panicked, feeling come over me. Not because of who this person was, or any feelings I have or have had towards her. It was the realization of who I was during our time as friends, and the potential of her not having a very positive opinion of me. Just by sheer timing, this girl encountered me during one of the lowest points in my life. I’m sure a lot of our time spent together was filled with me struggling with hopelessness, depression, anxiety, and a general negative outlook on life. I will admit, I do not try to hide my emotions, even if negative, and my overly obsessive nature makes it impossible to think or talk about anything else when things in my life are so extreme. They consume my life in that respect. 

So why does it matter? Why would this moment inspire me to write about it? And what does it have to do with your taste buds? Well, I liked this girl. I enjoyed her company. I had even tried to invite her out to lunch on a few occasions, with the hopes she would become a close friends. I was denied access to the friendship. I was a bitter taste for her. Not only bitter, I would leave people with an after taste that would make most want to immediately find some mouthwash.  Again, this was purely out of timing in life. If this had been an established relationship, my pessimism would have been approached with the assumption I was in a temporary state. With a new person, how you originally meet them will most likely always be how you view as the “real” them.

Everyone knows how important first impressions are. But I believe we are skewed in what exactly that means. In some regards, it is exactly what we think it is. The very first time we see someone. But in most occurrences, that impression is changeable. It’s like we have set up an impression mulligan in life. “I really thought they were kind of bitchy the first time we met. But the next time I saw them they were great! They must have been having a bad day.” Bam. Opinion changed. First occurrence forgiven. New perception established and accepted. The second taste was a lot better than the first.

But first impressions are more than just those first couple times. If your life is a state of chaos, grief, anger, etc, that will now be your label from that person. It’s not their fault or yours. We all make assessments and judgements in the first stage of getting to know someone, and tend to hold on to it. We have to. It protects us from toxic people, and helps us learn and enjoy to sweet ones.

So, you meet someone who is a Debbie Downer, and you move on and decide that person is too negative for your life. The taste is too strong, overwhelming, or even bland. Good for you! That is a very positive thing to do for yourself. Now what if you encounter this person later in life, only this time, they are happy and cheerful? You will most likely be glad to see their doing well, but be skeptical on whether or not it is a “permanent” state. You may be more willing to associate with them, but you will be waiting for the “real” them to reappear eventually. Small tastes, but always remembering the acidity they left you with before.

Now take it on the other side of things. You meet this awesome, amazing, fun, happy person. Sweet and smooth. As time goes on, you find them in a low point. “You’ve changed! This is not the person you really are!” But what if it is? Some people ARE just miserable people. So we wait. And wait. And WAIT. For that fun loving person to come back to us, but that was not who they are. We put ourselves through bad taste after bad taste, just waiting for that moment it’s sweet again. And we may even have one or two times with hints of a more palatable version of them. But that doesn’t make them a rich dessert. That was a time in their life. Why do you think so many people hold on to failing relationships? We hold on to an ideal of who that person is, and then get mad at them for not maintaining it.

So, I’ve decided to try to let go of preconceived notions about others. Good or bad. And try to see the person for who they are. Because we do change. Sometimes for good, sometimes for bad, and I could be missing out on a great friendship because of timing in life. Or on the other side of it, I could be holding on to a friendship that I don’t need in my life. Humans move through life in a constant state of change. We do not need to waste time and frustrations on holding on to what we think we know. Our palates may have changed on what we can handle. Or their “ingredients” of who they are may have changed or increased. That’s just life. So if I give someone another shot, and they still leave me with a bitter taste in my mouth, I will move on, and be open to trying again in the future. And if this person is a long time friend, then I will know and work with them to get their sweetness back. Because I know they would (or did) do the same for me.

So, happy eating all! Know your palate, and be ok if it changes. You’ll miss out in life if you’re holding on to what you experienced before, and don’t try what you may now love and enjoy.

Let Me Explain…Oh Nevermind

I remember when I was a kid, watching television shows and movies, and getting SO frustrated with the characters. Why don’t they just EXPLAIN what happened? Being the viewer, I could see what the truth was. And how and why it was misperceived. Of course, the character never explained, and eventually the truth would come out from another source. Which would cause the overly judgemental, angry, jumped-to-conclusions, character to see the truth and then understand. Happy endings for all!

Of course, I felt they could avoid the entire confrontation part of things if they would just talk and explain things. (But I guess then their wouldn’t be much of a story). Why didn’t they though? Why do adults always just let people believe things that are WRONG. Why don’t they ever correct it? Don’t they want people to know the truth?

Then adulthood came. Ah. Now I understand.

You see, I have the big picture view of my life. I understand, not only what my problems are, but why they are problems, and what has and has not worked for me in the past. But these other characters in my life are just passing through. And I cannot explain every aspect to them. Some really want to know. Most do not. Most already have the “you should just” , “why don’t you just” , “I would just” , “I don’t understand why you don’t just”  mentality.

So what do I do? Try each and every time to explain myself? Do you know anyone who does this? They sound like they’re constantly making excuses for themselves and their obvious bad choices. Because if they would do it the “right way” they would not be struggling. They must love turmoil and problems.

I’ve often caught myself trying to explain why I made one choice or another. I’m shut down every time. And it usually ends with me saying, “you know, you’re right! I should try that next time!” Because that’s all they wanted. They don’t want to know you’re ok. They don’t want to understand how you got where you are. They don’t have love, compassion, or any sort of empathy. They have judgement and a sick superiority complex where they HONESTLY believe they just have so much more wisdom or life insight than you do. So trying to explain yourself just looks like justifications or excuses. And agreeing with them pets their obviously overgrown ego. They get to feel that they finally got through to you and your simple mind.

So that’s why grownups don’t waste their time. All we can hope is that (like in the movies) there is a moment where the truth is reveled. Or that the other person faces similar experiences and has a moment of clarity and understanding. A humbling moment that leads to an apology for harsh treatment or condescending, hurtful words. But that just happens in the movies. This is the real world, so I’m not holding my breath.