I am so frickin' happy!

I graduated college 9 months ago, and thus my job search/soul search began 9 months ago. I have to admit I have come along pretty nicely with the latter, which should outshine the fact that I’ve yet to find a job (in my opinion). Ok, I have a job. I’ve worked the boutique for almost 5 years now. I feel like it’s my own store, and I love it. I get to go to market in Atlanta, plan parties and fashion shows, and work with great people. I am definitely not complaining. A couple of weeks ago a woman in the store was talking to me about life after college. She said that the transition you go through right after college is the toughest she has ever experienced. Moving back home, graduating, getting out of an unhealthy relationship, and losing my uncle were all kind of thrown on my plate on the same day it seems like. Sometimes I’m thankful that a job hasn’t come along yet, because it’s been so humbling for me to live back home with my parents and sister. It’s also been like healing grounds for me. Home. There truly is no place like home. I’ve had some great adventures, discovered that I’m more independent than I ever gave myself credit, and have had some much-needed and well-deserved time with myself. I’ve learned to work on some of my faults, but accept those that I cannot change. I’ve always been a very confident girl, but I now look at myself in the mirror and see a confident woman. And I love who she has become. I love that I’ve overcome some strange, tough, and hurtful situations. And while life is very uncertain right now, I am so frickin’ happy. I know there are great things in store for me, and this town is not going to hold me for much longer. It’s had enough of me, I’m certain. Gandhi said, “Happiness is when what you think, what you say, and what you do are in harmony”, and I feel like I’ve come pretty close to accomplishing it. Cheers to that!

why are you still single?

Why are you single? People ask me this all the time. The older members of my family often seem dumb-founded that I’m not serious with someone and/or married by now. I always get, “You’re beautiful AND smart. How are you still single?”, as if I’m just desperately waiting for a man to notice me and want to be in a relationship with me. Then there are those who assume I have some major fault for “still” being single. I’ve been told that I’m too much of a feminist, and that must contribute to the fact that I’m single (for the record, I cannot stand false negative assumptions about feminism). I’ve been asked if I’m too controlling, nagging, whiney, etc. You know the typical stereotypes girlfriends tend to receive. My favorite are the people who pat me on the shoulder and assure me that my Prince Charming will come along one day, as if I’m moping and in depressed spirits because I’m single. Singlehood, for me, is a choice. I’m young, attractive, ambitious, and fun. I assure you getting a man is not the issue. If I wanted to be in a relationship, I would. Is it so bad that I enjoy my alone time? Is it terrible to admit that I’m much more content and stress-free when I’m not in a relationship? Singlehood isn’t a sickness. It’s a choice. And more people should be happy with their single status. Having someone by your side can be a blessing, but I don’t want just anyone by my side. I want to fall so stupid hard in love that I’m willing to give up my single life, sacrifice my alone time (which I’m very selfish with), pretend to watch sports and be interested if that’s what he likes, and become open to finding a new kind of satisfaction with myself and my life while in a relationship. It’s easy for people to assume I’ m cynical and bitter because of my current views on remaining single, but the truth is I really am waiting for my Prince Charming. I’m just enjoying the wait. I’m in absolutely no hurry to find love. And that’s ok. I know there’s a plan for me and everything has a season. Tis’ the season to be single!

Be a man!

"Be a man". I imagine this is a phrase that males start hearing as little boys. I wonder what it means to most, though. It seems to me that many males (notice I don't use "men") have not grasped the correct concept of what being a man entails. I grew up around three amazing men; my Dad, Papaw, and Uncle Vester. All 3 of them are the hardest workers I have ever met. They went from virtually nothing and devoted their lives (or a large part of their lives) to working hard and providing more than enough for their families. I haven't known them to ever be overly emotional, fantastic at expressing their feelings, or even great at dealing with someone else expressing their feelings with them. Some might describe this as hardened. And at times, I guess I would have to agree. Their hard work ethics and tough exteriors fit the description of what many expect a "man" to be. But let me tell you, when it comes to their wives they will absolutely melt. I can still see so clearly my Papaw's pretty blue eyes and how they lit up when he would tell me about first meeting my Granny. He told me, "I knew I'd have to stop drinkin' if I wanted to get her. And you better believe I did." He loved to hug on her, brag on her, and buy her breath-taking diamond rings. My Uncle Vester, in his last few months of life, never seemed to notice that he was battling a deathly illness, lost 60 pounds and his hair, and had to give up much of his independence. His only concern was my aunt Donna. Lying in a hospital bed, barely able to move, it was still his duty to take care of her as he looked up and apologized for putting her through all he had, as if being sick was somehow his fault. He said besides giving his heart to the Lord, the best decision he ever made in life was marrying Donna. I've seen my Dad cry three times. Actually only twice, but my Mom told me about the third one. Some years ago my Mom was in the hospital and the doctors were unable to figure out the problem. Things weren't looking good. She told me how Dad sat on the end of her hospital bed and sobbed. My Dad. The strongest man in the whole wide world. Adoration. Their love for these women was always apparent. They didn't talk about other women, or even look to my knowledge. The only time my Dad even recognizes that another attractive woman exists on planet Earth besides my Mom is when Shania Twain comes on the television. He will stop flipping channels and just stare at her until we make fun of him and he quickly turns the channel. Growing up, these are the men I was surrounded by. I didn't know that any other type of "man" existed. Then I hit puberty. The bigger my breasts got, smaller my waist got, and thicker my hips got, I began to realize that “men” my own Dad's age were looking, no gazing, at me. I wondered, "What's going on? Where are their wives?" I was so naive until I was later into my teenage years. I truly believed that all "men" were like the men I grew up around. How wrong I was. At my old job, on vacation, in the grocery store, and the absolute worst; a gas station, I realize that many "men" have no shame. I want to say, "I can see your wedding ring, you idiot." Call me old fashion, but I refuse to settle for a “man” like that. The point is I wish young "men" aspired to be like the real men in my life. Get your hands dirty and work a little. Be tough and pretend like you don't ever cry if you want, I don't care. But when you find the woman who makes that tough exterior come crashing down when she's around and you feel like a little whimpering boy, be a man not a “man”. Love her and let your walls down, because I promise she'll love you back even harder.

hello world

I am packing for my trip to Seattle. I have a potential job opportunity, and will be staying with a good friend. I have an interview and hope to explore the city and see if it's somewhere I can see myself. Besides that, I have a couple of other job opportunities; one as a party planner on a cruise ship and the other(s) with the Atlanta Apparel Market. I know within the next few months I have some major decisions to make, and it weighs heavy on my mind night and day. Traveling, being on my own, living in a new exciting place; I've dreamt of these things since I was a little girl. And yet, now that they are all about to happen I find myself absolutely terrified. What kind of an "independent woman" am I anyway? I've never lived more than 10 minutes away from my parents. Anytime a crisis of any kind happened, I've always had the security of knowing they are a short drive away. Besides that, I've always had a boyfriend or guy of some sort around "taking care of me" as well. Since I was old enough to date I have never been single for more than a year. And in that year I had a best "guy friend" who looked out for me my first year of college. We hung out on weekends, cooked together, and he was always protective of me when it came to going out to college events and what guys I dated. And here I am, single, thinking to myself I wish I still had a boyfriend so he could go with me to Seattle to "look out for me". Seriously? If my college adviser was here, she would slap me for saying that. Moving away, meeting new people, broadening my horizons, growing up, and being independent are all things I wish to accomplish for myself. I need to prove to myself that when I have a bad day, someone hurts my feelings, or I'm just lonely that I can handle it on my own. I need to know that when I'm sick, I don't have to have Mama or a boyfriend come pick me up and take me to the doctor. I will never be satisfied with myself, my life, or in a relationship with a man until I conquer things on my own. I have learned and gained so much mentally, emotionally, and spiritually living in these mountains for 22 years. But there's much more to learn and gain, and on my own personal journey I know I will never receive those challenges if I stay here. That's not to say that I may go off, accomplish these things, and yearn to come home again. All I know is that in one day I have to navigate myself through an airport without having someone lead me around (like I always have), do the same on my one stop in Chicago, and land in a new and exciting place...all by myself. As much as I say all this is for myself, I can't help but hope my new endeavors make all those I have been dependent on in my past proud. I don't really need someone's hand guiding me around. However, it's not until no hand is there to hold that I will come to realize it.

60%??

I went to a baby shower last week. Most of the gifts were ‘princess’ themed, which is what the mommy-to-be requested. I was enjoying watching her open all the adorable gifts (as much as I could since I’m not nuts over babies and/or baby showers), when she pulled a bright pink onezie out of a bag that read “One day my prince will come” with a frog on it. It got me to thinking; from the time we are little girls, or apparently newborns, we are socialized to dream of a prince whisking us away and living happily ever after. While I don’t have hard statistical results of this, just look around. I definitely know of and hear of more women getting their hearts broken than men. Women are far too often labeled as needy, smothering, and nagging in relationships. This has to be a direct effect of the fact that many women are not receiving what they expect out of their relationships, and because ultimately, we have been hypnotized to expect the fairy tale. As a young girl, I didn’t dream of my future wedding, nor did I play games revolved around a wedding or even love as a matter of fact. I played with Barbies. My Barbies were independent beauties who were always dressed to the nines, had fabulous jobs, dream mansions, and rode around town in a pink limo with a jacuzzi in the back. Occasionally Ken would visit, or rather the Dylan doll from 90210 because I’ve never liked blonde men. The point is I’ve never been obsessed with the idea of love or marriage. Yet at the same time, my expectations for a relationship often seem to go right along with this whole idea of a fairytale and happily ever after. Was I brainwashed too? Are we, as females, doomed to forever have a Cinderella-type mentality, potentially putting us at risk to never be fully satisfied in our relationships? I read recently that women only receive 60% of what they expect from men in relationships. Is this because men are all scum? Or is it simply the fact that we expect way too much? Are we supposed to settle for 60%? All I know is that if I ever have a little girl, she will not be watching Cinderella without a lecture afterwards from me explaining that the story of Cinderella is outdated, and so are those glass shoes.

"hello, so nice to meet you." {piercing direct eye gaze, gripping hand shake, and a sweet and sincere smile}

If I were to meet you or see you in person (whoever "you" might be), you would probably receive the above greeting from me. Unless I don't like you, the sincere part of the smile would be eliminated, but the sweet would remain. Just kidding...or am I? =) I've always loved to write. From the age of 5 I have always kept a journal or diary hidden under my bed. No one has ever read them either, at least to my knowledge. So I'm not sure why I'm deciding to keep a public blog, where everyone and their mother can read about my life, thoughts, dreams, etc (unless there is some privacy setting on here that I haven't discovered yet). Maybe it will be nice though, you know, actually allowing people to genuinely get a sense of who I am. My aunt recently told me something about myself that even I hadn't realized in my 22 years, but that made so much sense I have found myself re-evaluating who I am. Not that I have that figured out exactly yet anyway. Again, I'm 22. Researchers suggest the brain achieves full maturity at the age of 25. 25 is my magic number. Don't get married, have children, or feel like you have to have your entire life figured out before the age of 25. Even so, after 25 I hope I don't have my entire life figured out. What fun would that be? I got side-tracked, sorry. I do that a lot. Back to what my aunt told me. My sweet aunt Donna said, "The first thing that comes to my mind when I think of you is that you have a secret." Wow what a nice way to have someone describe me, I thought. "I don't think anyone really knows you completely. You don't let anyone really figure you out. Mysterious. That's probably why men love you, and I'll bet a lot of women don't care for you." Wow, I thought again. She is so eerily right. I sometimes have these moments when it seems there's no one I can turn to who will understand my thoughts. Sure, my parents know me like others may never. They would probably tell you about the big heart that I've always had, and that I'm such a dreamer. My sisters would tell you that I'm goofy, but so strong. Any boyfriend I've ever had (which is really only 2) would tell you that I'm emotional, like to have my way, and am a hopeless romantic. My friends would again say I am strong, ditsy, and a wanna-be socialite. But I don't feel like any one of these groups ever get all of me, wholly. I have a lot of thoughts (good and bad) that I would never share with parents. Others that I would never share with friends. And then there's the people who don't know me. They might say I'm usually over-dressed and generally quiet (which may come off as snottiness, but it's not). Perhaps this means I have a wall. Maybe it means I like to keep a piece, or rather a big chunk, of who I am to myself. Or maybe it simply means I have a split personality :/ I think my aunt hit the head on the nail though. I don't let anyone figure me out completely. Partly because there's a lot left for me to figure out myself. It doesn't mean I don't allow some people to believe they have me figured out. It makes them feel good. =) And if there's one thing that all of the above groups would tell you, it's that I'm a people-pleaser.

life after college...

My senior year of high school I thought I was like 30 years old…no really. I endured a lot of personal pain dealing with the tragic loss of my Papaw, and I admit it made me grow up…A LOT. However, it also made me shut everyone out. I was arrogant and certain that I had it all figured out. I knew where my life was going and had this, what I then thought to be, wonderful plan. Then college happened. I got a huge dose of reality and was exposed to things and people I had never been exposed to before. I was a strong girl, no doubt, but very naïve. I then made the decision that I had absolutely nothing figured out and my “plan” went out the window. For the first two years of college I became this person I had never been before: relaxed, laid-back, open-minded, and in absolutely no hurry at all to attempt to figure life out. I took everything day by day, I listened, I observed, I learned, I grew, and I matured. I also absolutely positively refused to talk about the future…with anyone. When my friends talked about jobs, grad school, and life after college in general I pretty much told them to shut up. It wasn’t something I could grasp. I was set on being a college student forever learning all I could, never getting married, traveling the world, and somehow managing to be independent (because my salary as a college student is so amazing and all…?). Then I found a major that intrigues me more and more every day, met a guy, and moved out of my parent’s house. Trust me, I’m not implying that these occurrences miraculously made me realize where my life is going, but they were steps. I look at who I was when I was 18 and who I was last year, and I can’t help but smile. Slowly but surely, things really do begin to fall into place. I’m no longer the girl who knows it all and has a “life plan” but I’m also no longer the girl who is so laid back she never even thinks about the future. I want to go to grad school. I want to somehow take what I’ve learned thus far in my comm. classes farther. …as far as I can really, because I love it. I have so many options to explore with my major, and I haven’t decided what the best route is for me yet….but I will. I want to get married (ok in like 7 or 8 years, breathe everyone, and to whom I don’t know). Being with Kevin has made me realize how great it is to have companionship, and someone to fight your battles with you. Plus I doubt that being single at 60 is nearly as much fun as being single at 19….just a thought. I’ll be a senior next semester and I’m just now to the point where I can talk about “life after college” (although I have a hunch that I’m making more progress than some people ha). I’ll only be in Wise for another year, and then big girl life starts….well kind of….I don’t really think you’re considered a big girl until about 25 or 26. =) I know I have a long way to go and lots more to learn, but I’m happy with who I’ve become thus far. I look back and know that I’ve made progress. Most importantly, I’m not shutting people out anymore. I think Papaw would be happy with that. And right now, so am I.