twenty-five percent

A few days ago I was pestering my poor husband, asking him the kinds of questions that girls sometimes ask when they’re trying to sort out what someone meant when they said a certain thing, and whether it reveals some dislike or concern. 

I do this sometimes.  Okay, okay — somewhat often.

I wish that I could say that I’m this rock of self-confidence; I’m not.

Justin’s reponse is as typical and unchanging as it is wise, and it usually follows this theme: “Who cares?  If they have a problem with you, [screw] them.”

The other day, I retorted, “Easy for you to say.  You haven’t given a damn in years.”

Which is true.   In sharing my husband’s world each day, I’ve come to realize that, sure, he does have some insecurities, but they rarely ever concern they or them.  The number of people he has given permission to impact the way he views himself and his actions is quite small.  He meets people easily.  Quick-witted and funny, he is adept at making new acquaintances.  But “acquaintances” they remain for a long time.  I’ve realized that only passage of time and proving of trustworthiness will build what he would consider a friend.  

In some respects, I would kill for this.  I worry about measuring up in the eyes of people I’ve barely met.  Worse, I sometimes worry about the views of people I don’t even really like or respect. 

Justin jokingly told me that maybe after some time, his disdain for the world in general would rub off on me a little and I’d only care what people thought of me about 75% of the time.  We both laughed, and conversation drifted easily on to other topics, but I’ve been thinking about it some ever since.

The thing is, while I’ve grown some in this area out of necessity (you either adapt or you go crazy), I’m not yet “there,” wherever “there” is.  Ridiculous things still get to me that shouldn’t.  Justin has a friend who hasn’t adjusted well to this new married state of things.  Their friendship has changed — things aren’t like they used to be back in the day for a thousand reasons, but in this person’s mind, I’m the cause, and he hasn’t been very kind about it.  I know Justin tries to shield me from it as he sorts through how to move forward, but some things still get through, and every single time, it hurts, and I rant and rave to myself how I’ve tried, and how I’m not really like that, and how he needs to quit it. 

The thing is, I know that I’ve tried hard to be warm and friendly when it would have been easy to be otherwise.  I know the accusations don’t have any grounding in reality.  I know that they don’t affect Justin’s thoughts about me or our marriage.  But every time, I eat my heart out, equal parts hurt and frustration.  It shouldn’t by now, but it throws me for a loop every time and it’s several long conversations with Justin before I’m reassured again. 

I have everyone – from this guy, to coworkers from two jobs ago, to an annoyed-that-I-quit supervisor at Starbucks, to the girl who cut my hair this morning – on my radar of “What does this person think of me?”  Much of it happens without me even knowing it.  In an instant, the thought process is complete.  I get nervous and begin awkwardly searching for the cool thing to say, or, I go on the defensive, becoming silent and standoffish.  Neither are who I really am, or who I really want to be, for that matter.

Too much power has been surrendered to those whose place in my life doesn’t warrant it. 

The way one person described it (who knows if it was in conversation or if I read it somewhere, it’s been so long) was that there is a conference room in your head, complete with a huge conference room table, and there are people sitting there whom you’ve chosen.  These people are people you’ve given permission to tell you about yourself, good and bad.  Beyond that, depending on the power you give them, they influence everything from decisions that you make to how you feel about yourself when you stumble bleary-eyed to the bathroom first thing in the morning and come face to face with you.

I have far too many people in chairs around that table, that’s for certain.  I don’t tend to choose with any discretion.   

I am operating on automatic pilot too often to be able to sort these thoughts out as they happen, but I’m going to try to pay more attention.  There are some folks who simply need to go.  There are others who know me deeply, but nevertheless who love me and are for me, that need to be given a microphone at the table (my husband, Julie, my family, Daniel).  I sometimes give strangers’ words more volume than theirs, even if only momentarily. 

There is also the not-small matter of God seeing me through gracious eyes and knowing who this messiness will someday become.

Easier said than done, of course, but the work of paying attention to what goes on inside my head and heart can be nothing compared to the exhaustion of having to monitor so many perceptions. 

So, here I go.  Wish me luck.  Not caring at least 25% of the time seems lovely.

six synonyms, anna wolff

Hey — this is a great poem that just came to mind and I wanted to share it with folks.  I had the privilege of hearing it for the first time as it was read by the author at a poetry reading not too long ago.  Anna Wolff, you are good with the words.

SIX SYNONYMS 1. Wish

    (noun, a desire felt or expressed)

I keep them in boxes; they fill my closet.

It’s like the Library of Congress in there.

Someday they will break ranks and take

            over the whole house.

2.      Hankering

    (noun, a continual nagging desire)

In the pit

            of my stomach

a spring slowly coils itself tighter.

I can feel it

humming

            when I walk

                              humming

when I lay still.

It is waiting      

                        to snap.

3.      Longing

(noun, an intense desire for what is not immediately attainable)

It’s been over ten years

            since anyone

                     picked me up

            and carried me

                     anywhere, except

to bed.

4.      Covet

(verb, to desire to possess something belonging to another person)

·        My sister’s big boobs.

·        My dad’s Ph.D.

·        Health insurance.

·        Revelation

·        The earrings she was wearing

yesterday; she wouldn’t tell

me where she got them.

5.      Crave

(verb, to desire strongly, urgently, and persistently)

            There is a hole in my belly—

                                                everything falls through it.

                        I can’t find anything

                                                            to fill the breach.

6.      Desire

(noun, see above)

Sometimes it is this simple:

when I see you, I want to touch you.

a wee bit of an update

Hello, friends.  A few notes from all over:

Another little milestone today.  A year ago today, Justin and I had our landmark five-hour phone conversation in which we decided that we were “together,” whatever that meant when we were separated by a state between us.  It was pretty much a realization of the relationship that already existed rather than any material change, but I remember it being a special moment, lying on the floor in front of my couch in the Little Blue House and blushing, glad there was no one to see me and the happiest that I’d ever been. 

It’s only in retrospect that I realize it was a bit crazy to make this leap with someone I hadn’t seen in six years, but it seems to have worked out okay.  Justin and I sure didn’t do things the traditional way — our first date began with a confession of love and a kiss in the middle of the airport, and two days later we were trying to decide when we’d get married (very glad we bumped it up to November rather than waiting til this summer — waiting that long is simply weird to think about now).  We weren’t traditional, and we still aren’t, but life is very good to us and these little milestones remind us of how tangibly God has blessed us this past year.

In other news, I will be trading my green apron for purple scrubs and a white lab coat in a few weeks.  I feel like a sub-good human being saying this, but I didn’t like working for Starbucks. 

There.  I’ve said it. 

I can sense all of you judging me, thinking, “Doesn’t like Starbucks?  What is wrong with her?”  Believe me.  I get it.  Starbucks is a great company, wonderful values, they treat their employees well.  But the pace and being scheduled randomly anywhere from 4 am to 11:30 pm wasn’t something I was able to adjust to, my stress level went fairly high, I just about ground my teeth out of my head as my TMJ kicked up in full force, and I found myself spending more of my off time resting up for work than enjoying the other parts of my life.  I fought it for a while, but realized that while I respect the company and genuinely liked my coworkers, it just wasn’t the fit I was looking for.  At our peak rush hours, overwhelmed, my brain felt like it was on a two-second delay, which is time that just doesn’t exist in a Starbucks.  Although I get compliments on the quality of the drinks I make, most days I feel like Sam in the movie I Am Sam.  In short, most days I’ve felt a little retarded.  I put in my two week notice today and felt a huge weight lift from my shoulders.  They were supportive, and I was grateful.

So, on to a new opportunity.  This is a bit funny, but I’ve been offered a position at the place where Justin and I donate plasma twice a week.  I know.  Who’d have thought?  But, from going there twice a week, interacting with the folks there, and seeing firsthand much of what I’ll be doing, I strongly suspect that it will be a much better fit.  They keep busy and they work real hard, but each person I asked said they very much enjoy their job and their coworkers.  I’ll be a Medical Historian, which basically means that, in addition to regular office duties and answering phones, I’ll check out donors’ vital signs, prick their fingers & measure their blood for appropriate iron content, etc., to make sure they’re fit to donate each time they come in.  I’m looking forward to it.  It will be a much more regular schedule, better pay, interesting work & good experience, scrubs and tennis shoes, and will allow me to go back to school in the fall, so it’s a win for us.  Yay!  A new door has opened, and I’m very thankful.

So, there’s the little update.  I plan to write a little later in the week, but for tonight, I need to head to bed.  Work begins at 5:30 am…

just when you thought…

…you were such a terrible and inconsistent blogger that no one dared visit your site anymore for fear of seeing the same old headline there at the top from six months ago…

…it turns out you’re wrong. 

To all the far-away kindreds that called, emailed, commented, etc.:

You blessed my heart.  DEEPLY.  I forgot what a vehicle for encouragement, both giving it and receiving it, these puppies can be.

Justin and I are headed down to help my parents down in B-ton for the next few days as they move out of the house I grew up in… (sigh).  So if I haven’t written back/called back yet, I will try to get caught back up with folks as soon as we get back home to B-ham.

Thanks for making me feel so loved.  You kids are ridiculous.