Bleeding Everywhere

Deep Thoughts | Getting Personal (aka a little TMI) No Comments

10 years ago I went through several traumas back-to-back in less than a year’s time:

Miscarriage
Spouse’s suicide attempt
Spouse leaving
Sexual Assault

Each one one of those is a long story. I’m learning lately that not everyone should get to know every story. I’m ok with that. They aren’t always easy to tell, and honestly, not everyone has earned the right to them.

What I do appreciate about my experiences is sharing the very hard lessons I learned in hopes it will help someone else.

I’ve used the word “Resilient” to define myself for the last 9 years or so. When I went through all those hard things I was still able to function. In fact, I was often praised for how well I was doing. That must mean it’s good, right?

And then 2017 happened. Many small hard things happened in 2017-18. I knew something was wrong by the 3rd small thing, but I didn’t know what to do about it, so I just kept going. Then 3 big awful things happened; 3 deaths. Those broke me. I couldn’t function, but I was doing my best; which honestly, wasn’t good at all. I sucked at my job. I was being a bad friend. I couldn’t NOT feel how much I was hurting every. damn. moment.

I finished the school year and thankfully found a new position. Things were looking up. Everything was fixed.

And yet I still found myself repeating toxic patterns that I just couldn’t step away from.

Fast forward to now-ish; 5 therapy sessions of work. We’ve only scratched the surface and I’ve learned so much.

So, that’s what I want to share with you: 

Chinoy Pareek says, ' " If you don't heal What hurt you, you'll bleed On peo... '. Read the best original quotes, shayari, poetry & thoughts by Chinoy Pareek on India's fastest growing Creative Social Network | YourQuote.

Grief, in any form, demands to be felt. My pastor said that.
You can think you’re resilient because you got through hard stuff without breaking; but you’re not totally correct. What you’re doing is called dissociating (thanks HB). It’s something our brain does to protect us when things are too hard. It does serve a purpose for a time…and then it doesn’t. Then you’re just acting out, or making wild plans, throwing yourself into your work, relating to people only superficially, keeping impossibly busy, trying to control EVERYTHING. Everything you’re doing is self-preservation, but it’s breaking you more. I know first-hand.You will continue to hurt yourself and others until you get professional assistance to process it all.

Nothing replaces actual therapy.
Hard stop. I mean it. No amount of taking care of others; no amount of working out; whatever else you want to call therapeutic. They’re all coping methods, but none of them are actual therapy.

I know now that therapy is hard. I figured it would be, and that is part of why I avoided it for years; like, almost a decade. I wouldn’t trade the things I’ve learned in the last 5 weeks. The validation. The connections that I was never able to put together myself; invaluable.

I’m still going through it. It’s the hardest work I’ve ever done.

Part of why I am telling you this is so you know that I AM finally allowing myself to feel the things that hurt me initially in 2009-10. It’s hard work. I’m tired. I’m safely hurting because those things are not a present threat to me anymore.

So if you read this far, thank you. And if you see me and I seem to be different than usual, well that’s because I am. I’m leveling up, so to speak. I’m tired, but I’m happy. 

It'S Supposed to be Hard. If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The hard...is what makes it great.  | Rustic Grace | Rustic Grace Boutique | Southern Quote | A League of Their Own | Great Quotes | Life is Hard | Great


Best of all, I am healing. And healing is hard work.

Feel free to join the club.

“It’s the hard that makes it good,” right?

10 years ago I went through several traumas back-to-back in less than a year’s time: MiscarriageSpouse’s suicide attemptSpouse leavingSexual Assault Each one one of those is a long story. I’m learning lately that not everyone should get to know every story. I’m ok with that. They aren’t always easy to tell, and honestly, not everyone […]

This One is For You…

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You broke my heart too many times. I let you.

I was your excitement from your boring comfort zone.

You used me. I let you.

You didn’t choose me. I chose me.

Now you get to live without me…and I’ll let you.

Me. I wrote this.

You broke my heart too many times. I let you. I was your excitement from your boring comfort zone. You used me. I let you. You didn’t choose me. I chose me. Now you get to live without me…and I’ll let you.

You Should Be Here…

Deep Thoughts 4 Comments

Growing up, Uncle Doug was everyone’s favorite uncle. Decades later, it’s probably safe to say he’s the most favorite living Hayden. Feel free to argue with me, fam, but you’re probably wrong.

Uncle Doug has always had boundless energy, a contagious laugh, a cheesy sense of humor, sharp intellect, and a deep and abiding love for his family. Needless to say, he has always been a catch.

In the early 90s, Genene caught him! The small town tenacious Nebraska beauty with the voice of God’s most favored angel would become my aunt.

So many of my “growing up” years revolve around Doug and Genene’s life:

I remember my cousin Marky being so in love with her. He was maybe 6. He would sneak around corners to get a peek at her, and when she noticed him creepin’ he would turn bright red and dart away.

To be honest, we were all smitten with her. She smiled so easily and she wasn’t afraid to get us back in line if we got ornery (I mean, not me, but those other cousins).

I remember sitting in my Grama Hayden’s living room while Aunt Genene was deciding what to eat at their rehearsal dinner. She settled on Chicken Cordon Bleu and peas.

“Peas?!” I exclaimed. “Ew.”

She replied, “Well, you don’t have to eat them then, do you?”

I’m sure I didn’t.

We traveled to Columbus, Nebraska for their wedding. I remember the small church with the beautiful walls and ceiling. I remember her siblings singing in the choir loft above.

We met so many of her nieces and nephews over that wedding weekend. By the time we left the reception at Wishbone’s, many of us had developed crushes and/or penpals.

I remember taking a road trip to stay at her brother Andy’s house. His wife, Paulette, was so kind to me; an awkwardly imposing teenager.

Every year on April Fool’s Day Uncle Doug would make us think a baby was on the way. I swear we waited FOREVER. In 1997, Meghan Leigh was born. She was a big baby. I babysat her quite a bit. She wouldn’t stop crying unless you held her like a football and walked with her. She was no fun, but I think she always knew how much I loved her (and she wanted me to leave her the heck alone).

Kyle Joseph came along around 2 years later. He was an even bigger baby. I have the privilege of being his Godmother. I’m pretty sure neither of us are Catholic anymore. We both enjoy video games. I don’t think he knows how much I love him.

Before every dance my friends and our dates would gather to take pictures in my Grama Hayden’s front yard. It became tradition for Aunt Genene to pin on my date’s boutonniere. Uncle Doug would take the pictures.

When I was in college Doug and Genene took a trip to Ireland. I was trusted to stay with the kids for the duration of the trip. I even kept detailed notes for them. Aunt Genene read them to me just a couple years ago when I was over for dinner. Amanda, my cousin, tag-teamed with me, and we both kept hilarious notes.

Aunt Genene sang Ave Maria in my (protestant) wedding. It was a dream of mine to hear her sing it, just as I heard her sing it at her wedding. It was so beautiful. If you’ve heard her sing, then you know what I mean.

After I got married, I didn’t see much of my family very often, but I remember growing distant from my Aunt Genene, even though she lived very close.

Her politics bothered me.

That is my biggest regret.

I let our political differences get in the way of being close to her, and now, it’s been almost a year since I lost the chance to change that forever.

I had just been at North Kansas City hospital the night before to visit my Aunt Narda. Aunt Narda had just made the decision to enter hospice due to pancreatic cancer. The next day, I was headed home from work, I received a text from my Uncle Doug.

It said that Aunt Genene had an accident and they didn’t think she was going to make it.

I didn’t believe it. I thought someone had taken his phone and was going to try to pump me for money. THAT was more believable than thinking my 53 year old aunt had died.

I asked where he was, and he said he was at NKC hospital. I immediately began driving (like 70 in a 45) to get there. I called my dad and told him to get there. I called my mom, told her to grab phone chargers and get to the hospital.

I was there within 10 minutes. Before I even got inside I saw my dad through the glass doors, and I knew. Once I walked in he didn’t speak; he couldn’t. He just shook his head.

My Aunt Brenda walked in next. My dad told her she didn’t make it. “What?!” she exclaimed in disbelief.

I pulled myself together because I wanted to get to Meghan and Kyle. I HAD to get to them.

I won’t share much of the several hours in that ER room because it’s blurry, personal, and the most painfully raw experience I’ve ever been in.

Over the next few hours almost my entire family came to the hospital. Since my Grama Hayden died in 2001, we have only been together as a family less than 5 times.

Death and grief have the ability to unify and polarize. We are an example of both.

My best friend’s dad came and prayed the rosary with us. Religion doesn’t matter when it’s time to honor and pay your respects.

I never experienced true grief until 3/14/2018. I was so sheltered, or maybe lucky. Now I am changed.

Funerals are weird to me. The immediate family members of the deceased are made to stand for hours and smile and shake hands and hug. It seems exhausting. There are so many emotions flying around. There’s grief, but also a sense of happiness at seeing loved ones you haven’t seen in so long.

And yet maybe the tempered happiness of the reunion works as as temporary salve to soothe the heartache for a bit.

It’s been nearly a year. This time last year we were texting about taking a tropical vacation together. I texted to remind her about Paula’s bridal shower a few days away.

The morning of March 14th she accidentally texted me. It was a text meant for Meghan, so I didn’t respond.

What if I had? Would I have been able to tell something was wrong? Could I have helped?

I don’t know the answer to that. I can’t change it.

I grieve that she will never know her grandchildren on this earth. I grieve that she will not be at her children’s weddings. I grieve that the best Hayden is alone is his big house; yet no less loved. I grieve not getting to hear her laugh or sing or say her kid’s names in the way only she could, as their mother. It’s terribly unfair.

My internal personal commitment has been to no longer allow differing politics to stand in the way of my relationships.

I don’t post much anymore about wedge issues the media chooses for us.

I don’t want my selfish need to express my opinion on social media to push away any chance of a relationship with people I care about.

I’ve seen that happen in my own family; not just for me and Aunt Genene, but between the grandkids/cousins. It literally grieves me.

This doesn’t mean I don’t express my views, but I try so hard not to do it just because I think I want to be heard.

If you know where I stand anymore, it’s because we’ve talked face-to-face, or on the phone. It won’t be through hurled insults typed on any screen.

Love is what matters. And yes, it matters to me regardless of who someone votes for.

That’s how my Aunt Genene’s death has changed me. I want my love to be what people know about me. I want love to lead the way in my relationships of any type.

2 weeks after my Aunt Genene died, my Aunt Narda died. A week later a sweet teacher-friend died.

All those chances to love were lost. People. I lost people.

For tonight, I raise a glass of my strawberry lambic beverage to my Aunt Genene. She would have enjoyed it…and she would have been tipsy on half a glass. She was always a lightweight.

Life is fleeting, and sometimes hard. We don’t need to make it harder.

Tell your people you love them. Be gentle. Be patient. Seek justice, but remember that social media keyboard battles aren’t likely to change much.

But our love just might.

Growing up, Uncle Doug was everyone’s favorite uncle. Decades later, it’s probably safe to say he’s the most favorite living Hayden. Feel free to argue with me, fam, but you’re probably wrong. Uncle Doug has always had boundless energy, a contagious laugh, a cheesy sense of humor, sharp intellect, and a deep and abiding love […]

#10YearChallenge

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We all have certain dates on the calendar that stick in our brain. I’d like to think most of those are happy dates like birthdays and anniversaries, but as we continue through life, we might find that some of those dates we’d prefer to forget.

The 10 year challenge has lost some steam over the last week or so, but it was going pretty strong all over social media before that. When I first noticed it, the instructions were to post your first Facebook profile picture alongside your most recent profile pic. I think some joked that it was to see how hard age had hit you. I found for most folks that time had been quite kind. No matter how we have aged physically, I could see how much LIFE had made us wiser, kinder, and taught us lessons we never imagined we would learn.

Beautiful heart. #love #youareloved #youarestrong #bebrave #inspirational #quotes #quotesbyjlynn #poetrybyjlynn #lifeinwhispers #inspirationalquotes


For me (and many others), some of those lessons began about 10 years ago.

That means some of us may be coming up on some rough “anniversaries” we may not intentionally try to recall or want to remember, yet our subconscious and our body holds its own remembrance.

In early January I realized I was feeling really worn down. Yes, I had a wicked respiratory infection, but something more was going on. My dreams were strange and I felt kind of foggy. I was also experiencing some pretty intense cramping.

And then I realized, it was 10 years ago that I had a miscarriage. That experience was the beginning of the end of my marriage. Pretty quickly I will be seeing some really sad dates come up on the calendar. I don’t intend to spend a lot of time dwelling on the intense sadness of 2009, but I think it’s acceptable to reflect, and even, to a certain extent, grieve the life that did not turn out the way my younger self intended.


Please don’t misunderstand. I am so happy! I love my job and my coworkers. My friends and family are still so amazing. God has been so so good to me.

Nevertheless, I will take the time to feel what I need to feel about all these dates coming up.

January 6th-I finally miscarried after weeks of knowing it was coming.

Mid-February-The man I was married to attempted suicide.

July 13th-Our marriage ended.

Those seem like 3 dates with 3 actions, but those who were with me, or who have experienced those things, know that a short sentence will never encapsulate all that really happened-the devastation was intense.

If you’re reading this, then you probably know me. You know I am generally happy and loving and kind. You know that I am SO INCREDIBLY GRATEFUL for my life. I often profess that those excruciating emotionally painful times were catalytic to who I am now: my faith, my deep relationships with friends and family, and my awareness of my own strength and resilience.

Hard times can put us on the path to something so much greater.

I know that’s not true for everyone. If you need me, I’m on your team.

Regardless of where you are in your journey, please know it’s ok to honor those tough times and feel what you felt. When I do that I remind myself that I don’t live there anymore (spiritually, physically, emotionally) so that I can mentally check myself back into the present….

And I continue….


We all have certain dates on the calendar that stick in our brain. I’d like to think most of those are happy dates like birthdays and anniversaries, but as we continue through life, we might find that some of those dates we’d prefer to forget. The 10 year challenge has lost some steam over the […]

Reputation

Deep Thoughts | Getting Personal (aka a little TMI) No Comments

I gotta be honest, friends: I’ve been on a weird ride since the end of May. I’m guessing on the outside the only thing that was really noticeable  to anyone would have been in my social media posts. I’d post about conflict or strong negative feelings I was having more than I had in the past. Unfortunately, there were times I “vaguebooked” in a way that was unbecoming as it related to my profession.

The result of this painful journey is that I held a lot of pain in. I know that doesn’t seem believable if you know me and have access to all my posts. Not everyone does have that access. I’m having to learn as a 36 year-old that although I am friendly with everyone, that does not mean everyone is my friend. Please don’t take that to mean I label anyone an enemy; I don’t. The truth is, I’ve had to realize that one of the things I have loved most about myself can also be misinterpreted by people who don’t know me.

Sometimes my authenticity can throw people off. The sassy part of me wants to say “That ain’t my fault. It’s their problem.” In some sense, that is true, but I also have control over what I put out there, and not everyone deserves the level of access I was allowing.

That was a tough lesson.

I took it really hard.

Seriously. I look back, especially on the last couple of months, and I am not sure where I went. All the superficial typical stuff was still there (social media posts, outings with friends, church, daily activities), but I haven’t truly connected on a relational level with anyone in months. I was faking it.

I have been lost and wandering; grasping for attention in unhealthy ways. Breaking through doors I had closed and bolted only to find the demons were waiting with open arms offering me attention, affection, and affirmation.

I’m the girl who will analyze the “why” of all that for a while. I’ll write about it. I’ll share some of it. Most of all, I truly hope I learn and grow from it.

Having (possibly over-) shared all that, I want to get to the ACTUAL point of why I’m putting this out there at all.

You see, I was starting to believe I was unwanted and didn’t belong any of the places I called home (friend’s homes, church, in the company of friends and family). My identity was beginning to shift from knowing who I was and whose I was to believing I was what I felt: Alone, Lost, and Unwanted–Cast Out.

I was allowing myself to be hurt emotionally; in fact, I’d go as far as to say I was causing it. Because I knew what I was doing, and that I was willing to do it if it meant I didn’t have to feel all of what I was trying NOT to feel related to my work and personal life, I began to think there was no turning back. I was going to get locked in that dark and scary room.

In a typical Lisa-move, all of my bottled-up emotions exploded out of me recently to two people. Those two people showed me love, offered grace, and also spoke a whole lot of truth to me.

With their help, I backed myself out of the room I was lost in. I’m on my way back—to me.

Tonight I met with a group of people who don’t know me very well. They knew my name and basic facts about me, and through the topic of the conversation they learned a bit more about me. The craziest thing happened–the exact thing I needed to be reminded of was spoken to me.

I shared a piece of my heart and in response was told I was “authentic.” Seeing as that’s the quality I’ve been running from the last couple of months, to have it show back up less than 24 hours after I “re-emerged,” well, for me, I know it was God. He heard me. He’d never left me. He was in that room with me.

I have some more unpacking and understanding to do with that.

But, if you’re reading this, and maybe you’re a person who’s been feeling lost, alone, and unwanted–like you have nowhere to belong but in a hell-filled prison…….

Please know, you are loved.

And if you can’t or won’t believe in a creator or higher being because it’s too far out for you, then I hope knowing that I love you and you matter to me can be enough for this moment.

If you need me–reach out. Message me. Comment.

I’m with you. Take my hand.

I’ll help you out of that dark and scary cell.

You’re worth it.

I gotta be honest, friends: I’ve been on a weird ride since the end of May. I’m guessing on the outside the only thing that was really noticeable  to anyone would have been in my social media posts. I’d post about conflict or strong negative feelings I was having more than I had in the […]

What to do when the School calls about YOUR Kid and Bullying

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I’ve been a school counselor for 9 years. The use of the B word has certainly increased in frequency; maybe your kid has experienced it in some way.

I know my personal experiences with bullying as a kid helped shape me into the adult I am now, and the experiences my students share with me have shaped the counselor I am becoming each day.

When true bullying occurs it can be heartbreaking for those involved, both the bully and the target, and their parents.

I hope what I share with you will help you know what to do for your child or a child you love.

I’ll try to keep it simple by answering the Who, What, When, Where, Why, and How of the situation.

What:
Bullying.

What bullying is:
Targeted
Repeated
Intentional
Power-related

In a sentence:
The bully intentionally seeks the same target over and over again in order to damage his or her social status and build up the bully’s social power.

Bullying is NOT:
Conflict between friends
A one-time event
Only physical contact

Who:
Students-Kids-Yours
There are 3 roles in a bullying situation. Despite what you think, your child is ABSOLUTELY fulfilling one of these parts.

  1. The Bully
  2. The Target
  3. The Witness(es)

When:
Any time, really.

You were a kid once, right? You knew the moment you could get away with something. You knew to sprint down the hallway as soon as the teachers turned the corner. You knew to pass the note when they turned toward the board.

Kids KNOW when they can get away with stuff.

And as most of you understand, bullying isn’t an obvious physical fight. Sometimes that can be the culmination of unreported bullying, but the straw is piling up on the camel’s back long before that happens.

Kids can be sneaky. Adults can’t be everywhere.

Are there 7 seconds before the teacher makes it into the classroom because he or she is observing the rest of the class as they transition from their restroom break? That’s enough time to call any kid a plethora of names and knock his or her belongings to the ground.

Where:
Unfortunately, what we all already know is that it’s happening at school; on the bus, the playground, in the cafeteria, the hallways, and even the classroom.

Why:
Oh man, if I could find a one-size fits all answer to this problem, then we wouldn’t be hearing this word every day.

Basic behavioral principles tell us if a behavior continues it is being reinforced in some way. Sometimes, even the consequences are reinforcement.

Suspension? You mean I don’t have to come to school? Awesome. I get to sleep in and play games or watch TV while my folks go to work!

If your kid gets suspended for bullying and continues to bully upon returning to school, then fear of educational and adult consequences won’t motivate them to stop; ever.

Oftentimes the social status of the bully increases. Gaining influence, credibility, and access are all powerful motivators. Fear is influential. Laughter is fuel. Social invitations are currency.

How:
How do we make it stop?

This is another million dollar question. These are just my thoughts. They aren’t statistically proven and are relationship-based. Connections are vital to change.

If your child is the target:
I always brace when making this call. It’s never uplifting to tell this to a parent, and usually they get mad at the school in some way. I understand it, but I hate bearing the brunt of it. It’s never pleasant to tell a parent that their child can’t even come to school to learn without being teased or demeaned in some way. If you get this call, we understand your desire for justice, but we simply cannot tell you some details of what happens with the bully. They are literally federal laws protecting all children and how their information is released in schools.

LISTEN TO THEM
If you listen you may be able to discern whether or not it’s truly bullying, misunderstanding, or friendship conflict.

PRACTICE SELF-ADVOCACY
No matter which situation it turns out to be, show them how to stand up for themselves. Show them how to use big strong voices. Have them practice talking through a friendship conflict with you. Have them express their feelings in an “I” statement:

“I felt _(insert emotion here)_ when you _(insert specific words or actions of the other here)_.”

Yes: “I felt hurt when you said I suck at kickball.”

No: “I felt like you were a real jerk when you made fun of me at kickball.”

If these things don’t work,
ENCOURAGE REPORTING
There are adults who can help IF they know what is happening. Yes, you could just call or email on your own, but it’s a critical life skill to teach kids to report what is happening for themselves. Practice this with them, too. You can even write it out with them.

If you want to “help,” (read: manipulate) please consider discretion. Contact the adult at school and explain that you want your child to report on their own. This way, the school official can find a way to allow time for that child to report.

If your child is the bully:
If I call you, please believe i
n NO way am I calling to shame you or your child. I need your help AND I want to help. I’m not calling you to label your kid bad or label you bad. I’m calling so we can work together to change the behavior.
But if I do call you:
LISTEN TO THE DETAILS
Take a deep breath. Try not to react out of anger. No one wants to receive or make this phone call. If I have to call you to break this news, please know I have triple-checked that it truly meets the criterion. Ask to call back or come in to the school if you need time to calm down.

ESTABLISH COLLABORATION
There is a difference between standing by their side and being on their side. They need to know you want to help them through this problem. They need to know you love them. If this conversation is confrontational or punitive, you will not get honest answers. I’m not telling you not to have an at-home consequence. I am a firm believer that conversations between parents and children should not feel like a punishment. They should be desired. Grace and accountability are key.

GET HELP
Sometimes this is as easy as doing the first two items. It might mean getting help from the school staff, like the school counselor. In some cases, the reason your child is bullying may require therapy. Your school counselor can help with all of these things.

This is your kiddo. You love them and want what’s best for them. Guess what, I want what’s best for them, too. That’s literally my job-to advocate for what is best for each student. What your kids needs is to be at school and learning EVERY DAY. I bet we agree on that.

Lastly, there’s a part of the dynamic that isn’t in the equation when it comes to calling parents, because the child  who witnessed the bullying didn’t do anything wrong.

Let me be a bit more clear: It is highly likely that your child observed bullying and did NOTHING.

For me, that is the toughest part of the scenario to comprehend. I mean, I get being afraid, but what I don’t get is the lack of empathy and the lack of understanding of “strength in numbers.”

From a sheer numbers standpoint, most kids fall into the “witness” category. Sure, you may have heard them called “bystanders,” but I dropped that word when I realized how much it was lacking.

Specifically, POWER.

Bystanders are silent and weak.

Witnesses are strong and capable.

You won’t get a phone call if your child is a witness, but I need you to understand that at some point in life they WILL play that role.

It’s not enough to NOT laugh or otherwise encourage the bully. That is inaction.

Let’s empower them to take action. Talk to your child about treating others how they want to be treated. Teach them how to appropriately stand up for someone without bullying the bully.

If your child is a witness (and they probably are):
There are several basic methods they can use to help.

BECOME AN ALLY
This doesn’t mean they have to be best friends. It means they are being friendly for the moment. Sometimes the target won’t leave the area with them. There are other things they can do.

REPORT IT!!!!!!
Seriously, we can’t help if we don’t know it’s going on. They may need to tell more than one adult (recess aide, teacher, counselor). Sometimes the only adult they can tell is you. You can tell us if they can’t.

SPEAK UP
Admittedly, this one incurs the most social risk. Others will see and hear it. It may make your child the target. “Snitch” is another word thrown out by kids too much. They aren’t using it correctly, so you can educate your child if they are fearful of being labeled a snitch. Technically speaking, a “snitch” is someone who commits the same crime but “rats” on their accomplices in exchange for a lighter consequence. If your child is not taking an active part in the bullying, then they aren’t a snitch. If they are, and they tell because they know it’s the right thing to do, that certainly speaks volumes for their developing character.

Ultimately, you have to decide for your family what you value. Establishing your family values is a great topic of conversation for any family with school-aged children.

If you’re reading this and you have questions, send me a message. My passion is doing what’s right for kids no matter the situation. I can help.

 

I’ve been a school counselor for 9 years. The use of the B word has certainly increased in frequency; maybe your kid has experienced it in some way. I know my personal experiences with bullying as a kid helped shape me into the adult I am now, and the experiences my students share with me […]

All Because Mary was Pregnant before Marriage?

Deep Thoughts No Comments

The other day I had some time to spend in the car during a road trip. I was bored with reading and perusing Facebook, so I settled in for some “random thoughts” time. You know how this works: You hear a song lyric, see something out the window, drive down a familiar path, and your brain is off and running and suddenly seeing a Dairy Queen sign makes you think of your first kiss with the guy who was your best friend’s cousin when he took you to Homecoming your junior year.

Or is that just me??

Yeah. Ok.

Anyway, I was actually thinking about Christmas and the birth of Jesus; more specifically,  I was thinking about Mary being pregnant before she was married.

This happens all the time. I mean, if we all took a moment we could probably name 5 people in our circle of influence who would fall into this category.

So why was Mary’s pregnancy anything to make a big deal over? Why would this elaborate story about her baby boy being the messiah need to be created?

His birth; the miracles; the sermon on the mount; the torture; the resurrection….all just a big cover up for a girl who was pregnant at the wrong time??

mary-and-josephAnd if we had the chance to create a story about the savior of the world, why wouldn’t we make him some kind of royalty and not born to a carpenter and his “not yet” wife?

Yes, I know there were prophecies in the old testament, but we all know councils picked and chose some things to be left in or out of the Bible, so why wouldn’t they just change all that, too?

I get it! It’s totally crazy! “The holy spirit came upon her” and she was pregnant?? That is bonkers!

It’s supernatural…If there is this power that’s running the show, shouldn’t it be able to do something that defies logic and reason?

Shouldn’t it be unquantifiable to the human mind?

Maybe it’s not a big conspiracy, like I wanted to believe for so long.

Maybe it’s real.

And if it’s real, then it must have implications for your life, too.

 

The other day I had some time to spend in the car during a road trip. I was bored with reading and perusing Facebook, so I settled in for some “random thoughts” time. You know how this works: You hear a song lyric, see something out the window, drive down a familiar path, and your […]

A Couple Dents in my Fender…

Deep Thoughts No Comments

barbieI’m a very lucky girl because my subconscious is a very rich place. I get to have wonderful dreams AND I tend to remember them.

On the flip side, I have pretty intense nightmares, too.

But, for today, we’re gonna stay on the “dream” side of things.

I’ve written about my ridiculous dreams before (married to Justin Timberlake, for example). They can be quite lovely.

Last night I had 2 dreams I can remember. In the second dream I was watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer with some friends and my brother. A pretty nice dream.

It’s the first one that’s bugging me; especially when I combine it with one from last week.

Last week I dreamt I saw my reflection in the mirror and it caught me off guard because I was not my current weight, but slender, and I had a thigh gap. My subconscious self was so elated that this dream became about my shock that I had a thigh gap.

I don’t think I’ve had a thigh gap….in.my.life….teach-body-hate

Like Ever.

In fact, I distinctly recall being called “thunder thighs” as a child, so I’m just gonna go with a “nope” on the thigh gap
existence.

That was last week, so let’s dig into last night’s first dream.

I was in a huge and lovely home. It wasn’t mine, but I remember feeling like it was familiar and I was comfortable in it. I walked down a set of stairs and heard my brother talking to someone. I couldn’t tell who it was, but it was someone with whom my brother was comfortable because they were joking around together.

Eventually I realized it was a guy…I realized this because he greeted me and said he had to change clothes. The part of me that was an audience to this dream still didn’t know who it was, and my brother made the comment of “Is that always how you greet your fiance?”

Oh, so I had a fiance! This is a good dream, then, right?!

He came out of the room after changing his outfit, and I can tell you this is not the type of man to whom I would be attracted in real life. He was wearing plaid shorts and a polo shirt (that was maybe a soccer club shirt). He was Italian and very muscular. (My ladies who were at the Royals V Tigers game with me a week or so ago will know who my subconscious used as a model). Although his physique was attractive, his personality was obnoxious.

I’m taking all this in: me in a nice house, my physically attractive fiance, my brother approving of the guy, when the part of me that’s in the peanut gallery watching this movie chimes in, “There’s no way a guy that hot is your fiance.”

souls-not-bodiesWhat the heck?!?! My subconscious is a straight up bitch, guys.

Who says that to someone?

But wait, isn’t my subconscious the product of my thoughts and experiences?

Then I think I have a real problem here.

And I think many people, not just girls, suffer from this same kind of thing.

We gain our value from our appearance.

We constantly evaluate our self, and others, on our shell.

AND WE KNOW BETTER…at least I do.

You guys know me. I am the encouraging one. I am the one who tells people to love themselves and I work with kids…

And I am so so so careful not to body shame myself in front of kids or body shame anyone when small humans can hear.

Maybe I can save them from having this voice in their head when they’re older.

Maybe it’s not too late for me.

body-blooming

I’m a very lucky girl because my subconscious is a very rich place. I get to have wonderful dreams AND I tend to remember them. On the flip side, I have pretty intense nightmares, too. But, for today, we’re gonna stay on the “dream” side of things. I’ve written about my ridiculous dreams before (married […]

#BlackLivesMatter

Deep Thoughts No Comments

Before I dig in here and reveal what’s going on in my heart and my mind, I’d like to throw out a disclaimer to my friends and family:

You may disagree with me.

dangerI hope that even if we disagree you will not see it as a need to stop speaking to me, or interpret that I disapprove of you in any way.

I am on a journey to greater understanding and accountability as a human on this planet.

I’m not trying to say YOU are bad. I am not trying to say YOU are blatantly and actively racist.

I’m saying there is a deeper problem beyond white cops ending black lives.

I’m saying I can’t be a silent witness or casual observer anymore.

I think some of this process of standing up and speaking out means acknowledging what is wrong inside of me. I am not willing to point at others without first looking inside.

I don’t know that I actively think any life is less valuable than my own. In fact, I probably value my own life less than those of strangers.

Thus, when I take in words professing that black lives are not valued, it doesn’t resonate as something I feel within me. I don’t mean to imply that it’s not true for others, or that it’s not how it feels to others, but it’s not what it true for me.

The feeling that I think is more accurate for me is fear.

When I walk alone along a street and encounter an able-bodied man (read: not elderly), I have a sense of fear.

When I walk alone along a street and encounter an able-bodied black man, I have a greater sense of fear.

That is prejudice.lives end

That is racism.

And I know it.

If I can know it; a person who is empathetic, compassionate, a lover of all people and most animals, a hater of any kind of pain or exclusion; if I can know that my inherent, yet somehow learned fear, is racist, then why is it hard for others like me to see that it is absolutely an ingrained systemic problem?

I have never been harmed by a black man. I HAVE been harmed by white men.

I have never been harmed by a cop.

Yet, when I pass a patrol car or encounter an officer’s vehicle on the highway, my heart leaps to my throat and beats a little faster…..fear.

Because I know I am speeding.

I’m not afraid they will harm me.

I’m afraid I will get an expensive ticket and my insurance will go up.

I’m not afraid I will be killed.

Other than the unknown factors contained within my vehicle, I’m not afraid I’ll be killed because I think no officer would assess me as a threat. There’s the fear factor again.

Do I see cultural disdain for law enforcement? I do. And you know what, I see it from people of all colors. I work with kids who do not trust LEOs, MANY of them are white kids. The thing is, unlike their black peers, they don’t have to worry that the color of the skin puts an automatic target on their backs.

Please understand this: Many people I love are law enforcement officers. I believe they are good men and women. I do not believe they would shoot someone unless they had to for safety. I think I believe this about most police officers. I want them to get home safely at the end of each shift.

I’m willing to believe that some of the officers who have killed our black citizens were/are even good people.

The reason I believe it is because I believe I am a good person, and I can acknowledge the racism that exists within me.

If I’m willing to believe there are some officers with inherent biases who ACT on them, conversely, I’m willing to believe some of the humans killed actually did criminal things. From what I can tell, it doesn’t seem like shooting them was a reasonable response in many cases.

I know those are not popular beliefs.

In my heart I know the brutality is not acceptable, and I don’t want to stay silent anymore just because someone may disagree with me and unfriend me on facebook. If we can’t disagree and still be people who love and care for each other, then I am not sure we have a solid basis for a relationship to begin with.

If I encounter an educator who treats students unfairly based on racial bias, whether or not that educator was aware of it, would you WANT me to say something to them? If it was your kid, or your co-worker’s kid, or your high school friend’s kid, would you want it addressed?

Yes. If it were happening to someone in your circle of influence, even someone on the fringe of your circle, you would feel it and want it to stop.

If we wait until it gets that close it will be too late.

It’s too late for so many right now.

You know what else I have witness in my own life that I know to be true? Change and redemption.

We can do this if we surrender our defenses and embrace this struggle through love.

Let’s not make the beast of racism more ferocious by feeding it with denial and malice.

It is biting us right now, and before long it will tear us apart.

As I have finished writing this the news is breaking from Dallas.

Cherokee

Before I dig in here and reveal what’s going on in my heart and my mind, I’d like to throw out a disclaimer to my friends and family: You may disagree with me. I hope that even if we disagree you will not see it as a need to stop speaking to me, or interpret […]