hey, girl

There is seriously nothing better than the all-encompassing thrill that comes with true kindred spirit friendship. It's da bomb. It seeps into the cracks of your insecurities and blossoms in the shadows of your true self. You suddenly unwind and get weird and laugh a lot and share too much. There's a level of comfort and rest that exists in that place that is precious and rare. It's a place of peace and girl power. Friendship between women can be one of the most delightful, inspiring, freeing, encouraging, and empowering things on the planet.

But it can also be one of the most depressing things, and I really wish I knew why. Girls can be just plain cruel to each other. You know what I'm talking about, too. I think everyone does. It's a known image - the catty, selfish, b*tchy group of girlfriends that manipulate and degrade each other in a vicious cycle of "friendship". It's the Mean Girls syndrome. We're drawn to it somehow, maybe because our claws are naturally sharp and easily tempted to evil deeds. It's an absolute mystery to me though, especially when genuine love and friendship can completely change your life for the better, forever. 

Now, granted, this isn't entirely exclusive to women - I've seen my husband and other guy friends used and abused by their friends as well, they just go about it differently. I think my husband was often blind to it, because they were just "being guys" and messing around. He was definitely affected by it, but he had always accepted it as the norm. It wasn't until we gained really solid, edifying friends that we were able to take a deep breath and say, see? This is what this is supposed to be like. 

I have no problem with sarcasm - it's actually one of my favorite languages. I think the problem comes when that's all there is. I remember being really confused when I was entering junior high and high school during the trend of best friends calling each other slut and ho-bag and other lovely nicknames. I just didn't get it.

I couldn't bring myself to connect to that type of closeness, because it didn't seem real. Even after high school, when those monikers typically died away, I felt incredibly alone in my desire for kind, loving friends. People I could actually like. (Crazy, right?). I saw a great emptiness in the friendships I knew and eventually began to accept that a friendship like Anne Shirley and Diana Barry's just didn't exist. Hang it up with the other fairy-tales. 

Luckily, I was proven wrong. It took some time, but I feel incredibly fortunate to now have friendships that I cherish and am proud to invest in. Friendship is hard work and there are always ways to be more attentive, more forgiving, more understanding and more intentional. It's worth it because the relationships in your life change you daily. The ones you choose to nurture throughout the course of your life are especially momentous.

Friendship shouldn't be so competitive. Why do we so easily bristle and poke and one-up and belittle? It's this ugly gut reaction when a friend has good news to find some way to redirect the praise and excitement to ourselves, or to ruin their good news by belittling it somehow. We're always fighting the urge to make it about us, to turn inward instead of pour ourselves outward. That immediate WAIT NO MY LIFE IS BETTER is a really stupid inclination to have. Where is the genuine joy when someone experiences something great in their lives? There is so little gratitude and congratulations among friends. Words of affirmation should be insanely rampant, I think. It should be out of control, even. 

Of course, personalities vary and some people are simply less comfortable with endearments, and less likely to communicate vulnerable emotions. Some struggle with affection - I'm actually one of those people. I do not generally enjoy hugs. But there has to be something, right? It's hard to be friends with someone when you honestly don't know whether or not they even like you half the time. By nature, sarcasm is an erosion tool - it can and will begin to chip away at you. You can't live exclusively in that zone forever, it's exhausting! There needs to be a balance, and above all a foundation of love and trust. If the core of the relationship is flippancy and casual meanness, the friendship will die. It probably should die. 

My dream friendship is this. Being unafraid to share a true flaw, because you know they'll help work you through it and point you to better things. Being able to vent and cry and whine while they just listen - and then they'll tell you lovingly that they're on your side even when you're crazy. Trusting them with secrets and memories because they'll never use them to embarrass you. Making big decisions and having incredible news that you can't wait to share with them, because they will be over the moon for you, always. Feeling comfortable with honesty and familiar with thoughtfulness. Knowing that they see you, appreciate you, understand you, love you. 

I think women are fantastic. I'm a little bit biased, but I think we're cool. But I also think we can be really, really scary and mean. We have a lot of power over each other, which is the best and worst thing about us. Let's use that power for good, superwomen. We don't need to travel in packs, doing our best to destroy others to heighten our own weird status of lady royalty. It's an evil cycle I'd love to see end. Everyone is self-conscious, and everyone should have friends. Real ones. I want to be one of those to the women in my life. A genuine source of happiness and light and laughter. Someone my friends are proud to know and love. Not because I'm worthy of it or particularly special, but because I see them, appreciate them, understand them, and love them. That's all it really takes.

Let's hear it for peace and girl power.

lean, mean, 2015

Some early thoughts on the new year:

New years have a bit of magic to them. What is it about January 1st that propels people to do things they've been wanting to do for a long time? To make promises and decisions and resolutions. I'm not quite sure, but there's something to it.

I've written about new year's resolutions before - I don't really put much stock into them. But I do know that this new year's day was special to us. For one, it was our fourth anniversary - and it brought with it a lot of decisions. Decisions about our marriage, about the future, about who we want to be and what we want to do. Decisions about love. It was like we had been butting our heads against a wall for the past six months, and somehow crossing over into 2015 led us straight to the doorway.

I don't quite understand that. I suppose the head-butting is necessary for growth, and the doorway was invisible for so long for a good reason. In any case, it feels great to be here. Of course we still have a lot more to go - we still have monumental decisions that aren't made, promises to fulfill, disappointments to deal with and a lot of waiting, waiting, waiting. In fact, I think anyone else on the outside could look and say, literally nothing has changed, you guys. But something within us has shifted. Our level of contentment, commitment, and resolve has changed. We finally talked things out and said things out loud that had been splintering us. It hurt a lot, but it also healed so much faster afterward.

Last night we sat together and just wrote out some goals. Financial, physical, and personal. Nothing insane or out-of-reach, but very basic goals that we're hoping to conquer this year. It was a time for us to sit and reflect and try to put into the words the things that we want as our priorities. To get our goals on the same page, and high-five, and give ourselves an extra boost of inspiration and teamwork.

I'm proud of us, and I'm really excited for the lean, mean, fighting machine that is 2015.
It's going to be a great year.

auntie, that's me

Let me just take a second to talk about being an aunt.

I've always known I was going to have kids. Probably a lot of them. I grew up in a family of 4 kids and adored it, and I hope to have a good little nest of children someday because siblings are an absolute blast. There's really nothing like them. My mother-in-law used to tell my husband and his siblings when they were little, "God has chosen you all to be best friends for life." 

And that's really the best way to explain it. It's a wonderful relationship that's unique and lasting. I wrote a post a while back about my lifelong wish to have a sister, but I really wouldn't trade my 3 brothers for anything.

But then there's aunthood. It's kind of a state of being, it's a calling. A calling that's completely out of your control. It's powerful. It redefines your identity. I entered aunthood almost four years ago, when little bebe Abigail was born. She was so cute and pink and big-headed and life-changing. Watching her grow has been...insane. Crazy, brilliant, exciting, scary, shocking, wonderful. It absolutely makes my own life seem so much faster. When you're able to track your own days by the constant changes in a child, you realize how quickly it all goes by. 

I'm just going to be completely honest with you all and say that I don't naturally like kids. I know it's a horrible thing to say, but I also know that I'm not alone. (Please tell me I'm not alone?)

Being around kids doesn't come naturally to me. My husband is the one who is going to be an absolute natural, the one who I think has wanted to have kids since he himself was a child. He has always wanted to be a dad.

Me? Well.
I'm the weird one who is totally fine not to hold the new baby. Who has to restrain myself from disciplining random kids because they're driving me crazy. The one who has really naive and ridiculous views on how to parent because oh boy if that was MY child... I'm the one who talks to children like they're adults because I can't stand baby talk, and because I don't even know how to gush over them. Instead I say things like, "What's shakin'?" or "Sup?"

I'm the girl that never babysat in my teenage years because I'd rather be broke than spend my days with little kids. I know I'm a terrible human. I would normally make jokes about it but it's honestly something that scares me. What if I'm a terrible mom? What if I don't even like my kids? I don't like most kids. It's the truth. I'm really sorry about that, especially if I've side-eyed your kids before.
Which I probably have.

But here's the really beautiful light at the core of this post: being an aunt.
Oh gosh, if becoming a mom is even more transformative than being an aunt, I can't wait to be that woman. Abby opened up a brand new corner of my heart that I didn't even know existed. I now have 5 nieces and nephews, and I love them all so much. Which is the great thing about love - it isn't stingy, it doesn't deplete, it multiplies. Despite my fears about being a mom, not having kids has never been an option for me. My dad once told me that he has always grieved for childless couples who decided when they were young that they never wanted kids and insist they're better off without them - because they'll never truly know. The joy, the transformation, the purpose, the legacy. They couldn't possibly have understood the gravity of their decision when they made it. And maybe they never will - or if they do, it'll be too late.

Even in my short 26 years I've seen career-minded couples devastated by their inability to have children in their late thirties and forties because they thought for sure they didn't want kids, that their lives were too busy and important to have them. I could talk for a long time about what I believe about children (hint: it's in the Bible), and how I think this generation is incredibly selfish (I'm lookin' at myself here too. Hiiii), but of course it's not up to me to make those decisions for other people. And I'll stop myself before this becomes a totally different post. But I absolutely want kids. I don't want to put myself above the future of our family, and what it will be like when I'm 80 to have children and grandchildren surrounding me. People who are literally a part of me. I want to be that old lady surrounded by loved ones.

Abigail is the oldest of my nieces and nephews and is now at the age where I can actually talk to her, and tell her secrets. I can see her eyes light up when she sees pretty clothes and jewelry (I can't even handle the excitement of our future shopping trips together), and I have a front row seat to observe her developing her own tastes and interests. She is a fabulous little creature and I love being close to her.

Being an aunt is the best because:

1. I am a precious one in her life. 
This is an honor, you guys. I'm already in the core of her life, by no merit of my own. I have the power and the blessing of being there for her. There are a few people in every child's life that will always be there as big influencers in their development. The immediate family is first, and then come the outer rings. Friends and extended family. Realizing the preciousness of our relationship, the honored role that I have in her life, is quite humbling and miraculous. It's real and it's for life.

2. There is a deeper connection with my siblings. 
Watching someone become a parent is quite revolutionary. It changes them and changes the relationship, and the fact that they flipped the switch and changed the rest of us into aunts and uncles makes it a much deeper and more meaningful connection. And the rest of us are no longer just siblings; we're a part of this joyous little club of aunts and uncles. We're no longer bonded by just the past, but by the future as well. Those relationships take intention, patience, love, honesty, hard work and understanding. Loving someone's children is like the white stuff in the center of the Oreo. It's important.

3. It is a small taste of parenthood. 
Emphasis on the small. You get real-life examples of what being a parent is like, but you get to leave. You don't have to stick around for the tantrums or the blow-outs. When everyone's sick or exhausted or teething, you can just peace out and go to brunch. Sip that mimosa and chillax. It's a great wake-up call for snobby childless folk who claim to have all of the answers, because parenthood is no joke. It's the real deal. You learn so many lessons by being an outsider looking in. It's enlightening and, for those of us planning to be parents, preparatory.

4. I have a beautiful new friend.
As an aunt, I'm family, but I'm also something else entirely. The calling of being an aunt transcends into an opportunity for real friendship with a child who loves me, looks up to me, and confides in me. I remember being a little girl and having a few young women in my life that I worshiped and adored. I was absolutely fascinated by their lives and wanted to be just like them. I love being on the flip side of that now, watching these kids grow and falling in love with the people they are becoming. I want to be their best friend. In a responsible, auntie-like way, of course.

We always talk about family around the holidays, but I think it’s a great time to dig a little deeper and really examine and appreciate the various roles we have as family members. Brother, sister, father, mother, daughter, son. We all have roles and are irreversibly part of the whole. Family is a beautiful puzzle of imperfect people made to love and support each other. I love that. 

And being an aunt is my favorite thing.