Life Adventures Pt. 2

When I started 2014 with the goal of becoming more daring, building my courage, refusing to let fear stop me from taking chances, I never once imagined it to be about taking chances with my mind.
Yes, I knew it'd be a mental battle to stop fear from overcrowding my mind. Fear is always a mental battle with me. I am the girl of "what-ifs" and "supposes".

"What if I fail?"Suppose I never recover?""What if this hurts me so much I fall back into depression?""Suppose I give in again?" "What if I give up, will people care?" 

I never once imagined that I could be as daring as I was this year. But I'm starting to see that out of everything it isn't the physical battles that are where I need courage. It's in daring to be myself, daring to love myself, daring to support myself, daring to stand up without falling back onto someone else.
For the longest time, I refused to let people in, stuck on the mindset that it was selfish to ask for help...somehow I was meant to be independent all the time. It took a black, sinking hole of despair to finally ask for help. Ever since, it's been addicting to always have someone to vent to, always have someone to go running to, it's been great to have someone to support me when I'm about to crash. It was so nice that I've put off standing on my own.
Over the summer, I didn't have quite so many crashes...it's easy to be happy and strong in the sunshine, with the boost of confidence given by succeeding in my job. However, when it comes to fall and winter, enclosed indoors and little sunshine and warmth, with the struggles of money and schoolwork, one feels one's confidence swirling down the drain.

I could give in to my fearful mental state, break down, and live each day only by clutching on by my fingertips again. Or I could step away from my crutches, as wonderful and helpful as they are, and dare to support myself. I could be dare to push my mind to be stronger.
Instead of having wonderful people telling me how great I am and can be, I dare to tell myself, "You can do this." I dare to push my mind to face the scary shit and say, "Screw this mindset. I am smart enough. I am good enough. I am worthy."

It's about having the courage to look at myself and see all that I've accomplished.

There's a saying that says, "You are what you think."
So, when I feel like giving up or being lazy, my mind tells me that I'm a lazy person who gives up.
In reality, in spite of these wishes, I still work hard to accomplish what's before me.
So, really, just thinking something doesn't make you whatever that is.
It's also how you act on these thoughts.

I hate working so hard in school and constantly think about just giving up or not doing my best work.
Did you know? I have made President's List three times, Dean's List twice? Did you know that I won Best of Category for my photography in the Spring Exhibit at my old school? Did you know that I won the Award of Excellence? Did you know that at graduation I had a GPA of 3.97? Did you know that because I work hard in building friendships with my kiddos in LEGO club that I'll have kids throwing their arms around me as soon as they come in? Did you know that my kiddos refuse to make funny comics about me because I am, "too nice" to them?

Sometimes I think we take the idea of teaching ourselves not to gloat about our accomplishments too far. Worried of appearing arrogant, we shove aside our victories and forget to understand what they mean. Let's revel in these accomplishments. Let's understand that these things mean that we don't always fail, that we actually do good, that we actually don't always give up, that we do work hard, that we CAN overcome fear and succeed when we try!

My mind is being daring when it says, "Elementary Education is HARD. Harder than anything else you've done in school...but if you can write an A paper in three hours, you can do this test", "Putting yourself out there in a new situation is tough, but if you can jump out of a plane, you can do this", "If you can push yourself to hike up a mountain, you can face new things"...it's being daring enough to believe yourself when you say, "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for." 

Don't just take what your friends say for granted. Look around yourselves...our accomplishments are right there where we left them. Understand them, look at them closely, see what these mean. They mean we are stronger, better, smarter, more driven than we ever actually believe.

C'mon, dare to change your mental traps of fear. Stand on your two feet and dare to be. It's like Bastille says,

"Your albatross, let it go, let it go."

Your Words Mean Nothing To Us

The thing about Facebook is that you cannot escape all the people posting things in your newsfeed, and reposting them. I've seen the same video pop into my newsfeed 9 times in one day. The same kind of status pop up 3 times in a row. One on top of each other.

And I have a wide variety of friends, half of whom would post an article to say, "LOOK! This is so GREAT!" while the other half was posting it saying, "I'm so DISGUSTED!" It can be very amusing.

However, today, there popped up into my newsfeed one article that has inspired quite a few debates, and I am here to post my personal concerns and opinions and ideas about it all.

It all started on this blog of some young, Christian guy, who was writing in the form of a letter to his future, unknown wife. Read here.

I found so many issues with this letter, including:

• Girls should not be just sitting, waiting around for a Prince Charming to show up...our lives shouldn't revolve around being found by and marrying some guy!...
• I want to see the day a good-looking guy who actually acts upon his words of "it doesn't matter what you look like, you're already beautiful because God made you" by not ignoring and walking past the over-weight or acne-prone girls. 
• Girls' bodies are *not* goodies. We are not objects to be compared to a treasured or favorite car. I dress the way I dress not because I'm dressing for my future husband, but for myself. Because I am a Christian young woman I serve God and as a result of that, I respect myself and I honor Him. I dress how I feel comfortable. Simple as that. My body is my own. It is not some unknown man's. If a man struggles with how I dress, it is on his shoulders to take care of his own feelings and thoughts. I am not placed on earth to meet each individual man's struggles. 

The young man ends his letter with the following, 

"I understand I might have written this a little late, but I don’t care who you were yesterday, I care who you are today and who you will be tomorrow.  Make a change if you need to.  Let us grow together.  It is not too late.  It doesn’t matter what you’ve done or how many of these items you have missed, it just matters what you are going to do now!  You are beautifully and wonderfully made by the hands of a perfect Creator, live like it!"

My question is this: if it doesn't matter, then why also say,  "I’ll say that again, your goodies are always going to be good.  But, if everyone and my mom has a look at everything you’re showing off, I’m not feeling like as much of a lucky ducky.  So please, for me, keep your goodies packaged away."

Obviously, it does matter to him.

All of this aside. Yes, yes, I mean that: all of this aside...I want to get to the main point of my post.

Guys telling us we're beautiful. It's all well and good to tell us we're beautiful and that we're made in God's image. But I'm going to tell you right now. We're not going to believe you.

The thing about beauty and telling a girl she's beautiful and a letter like this is that guys are trying to convince us we're beautiful. If you think about the One Direction song, "What Makes You Beautiful" ...movie messages, book messages...all of which there are guys singing, saying, telling us girls that we're beautiful. Guys are trying to convince us that we're beautiful and that we don't need makeup and that who we are is enough. But. We still don't believe you. 

It's not exactly your fault, guys, though I will put a tiny bit of the blame on you. Guys, you tell us we're beautiful the way we are, to not cover up in makeup, to not care about how we dress...but the thing is, there is the sting when we try to believe your words and the guys still keep walking past us. So, forgive us if we don't believe your empty words.

What I believe is the most damaging message of all in this young man's blogpost and the dozens upon dozens...hundreds, even!...of blogposts and articles that spout the exact same thing, is this: men are telling us how to be beautiful. They are telling us how to live, how to BE women that will most attract Christian, godly men. But: our worth does not come from men. No matter what men tell us, we will never be content with it. It is one thing to be told we're beautiful and another to believe it. When a guy tells us we're beautiful, it's sweet and wonderful in the moment. But that's all it is: a moment.

Girls: it is wonderful when guys tell us we're beautiful. I know that special tingly, warm feeling we get when we receive compliments. But unless we truly believe it about ourselves, we will never be content. We will always be seeking for that contentment and fighting against the emptiness of feeling inadequate and not pretty enough. It's about self-worth and self-esteem. This idea of being a princess stuck in a tower, waiting, bases our self-worth and our happiness on someone else...on a guy. But here's the catch: guys are just as human as we are. And they cannot make us happy every minute of every day. A mere guy cannot make us worthy. I've been learning exactly how much I base my self-esteem on how others esteem me. But the fact remains, that once the compliments are gone, the briefest of moments where the spotlight is on me, then I feel just as empty as I did before. This is because I don't believe in myself and I do not think of myself as worthy unless others notice me. I am learning that to embrace who I really am, to accept how I look, I have to build my self-respect. Instead of being a door-mat allowing people to walk all over me, I am learning that I am worthy of happiness and respect from others without asking for it from them, without catering toward them. Author Nathaniel Branden of Six Pillars of Self-Esteem writes, "It is the conviction that our life and well-being are worthwhile and deserving of the respect of others; and that our happiness and personal fulfillment are important enough to work for." 

I am not going to tell you how to acquire self-esteem. I can't address the issues in your lives, girls. I can only look into my own life and see where I allow a low self-esteem to drag me down. I am learning to embrace the fact that I have a tiny yet tall body which makes it difficult to dress. I am learning to love the fact that my hair is curly and has a mind of its own. I am learning that it's okay to have days where I don't like my curly hair and to tame it's wildness by straightening it to a silky smoothness. I like my hair both ways. Not because some guy told me it was pretty, not because my friends told me that I look better with my hair curly. I like it both ways because of how both ways make me feel. I wear skinny jeans that show off my butt to its best advantage, not because I want to attract guys' attention but simply because I like how it looks, how it makes me feel. I wear makeup and I love it. I like the smoother appearance of my face when I cover up blemishes. I like the way my eyes are emphasized when I throw on the tiniest bit of liner and mascara. This isn't me not accepting how I was made...it is me making the most of how I was made and feeling beautiful in who I am. I am not changing my body...I am enhancing it.  It makes me confident and happy with my body, with how I was made. It is me accepting my body shape without having anyone tell me I look good.

Self-esteem, girls, it's important. More important than sitting around, waiting for guys to come along and finally tell us we're beautiful in their eyes after having one or two or a hundred guys just walk right past us.
Every guy may not think I'm beautiful, but I am learning to be happy with who I am, and how I look because I am building my self-esteem.


Guys, I am not here to tell you to stop telling us beautiful. But I am. Confusing? Let me explain. Do, do tell us we're beautiful. But do not tell us HOW to be beautiful. Do not come to me and say, "You are beautiful as you are, with the body God gave you, you don't need to wear makeup" then proceed to swagger right past me to flirt with the prettier girls. Guys, your words mean nothing to me. It is like Eliza Doolittle of My Fair Lady says, "Show Me". Your words are empty without actions. Guys, don't tell me I'm beautiful then proceed further into your blogpost by telling me how I need to be, what I need to do, and who I should be in order to be worthy of your love and attention. I am worthy without your opinion, attention, or words.

Guys, if you want me to believe you when you say I'm beautiful, show me by respecting me, including every life decision I make, including the way I act, speak, and dress. Give me the respect I deserve as a person, by not comparing me to a car, by not treating my body as an object and labeling it as goodies. Guys, if you want me to believe you when you say I'm beautiful, don't talk down to me, don't stuff me into a box and tell me to wait for you. I am a person, not your object. I am worthy to go out into this world and do something and not make you the center of my universe. Guys, if you want me to fall for you, don't tell me that the sole purpose of my life is you. Remember this, guys, the next time you're tempted to write a letter to your future wife: your words mean nothing to us.

Photography Journey: Part 4

Photography Journey: 2008-2014

2008:

2008: one of the first photos I ever took with my new camera. 

2008: Portraits were fun!

2008: Juji as a baby was a popular subject.


2009

2009: blurry is artsy!

2009: New Hampshire is just naturally beautiful!

2010:

2010: One of my first gigs: shooting my cousin's Senior Portraits!

2010: Another Senior Portrait session!

2011:

2011: Engagements were awesome fun to shoot!

2011: A lil bokeh, a heart...how cliche can I get? 

2012:

2012: Balloons! This was the year all about COLOR!

2012: Have I mentioned how much I *love* engagements?

2012: Piano & color, two of my fallbacks for school assignments!

2012: The portrait that won me Best of Category in the Spring Exhibit!

2013:

2013: Engagement Ring

2013: Freedom From Fear - a school project.

2013: Freedom of Worship - a school project.

2013: Books are magical

2014:

2014: Self-portrait

2014: Tea cups are my thing.

I kinda chuckle as I look back over the years and see how my photography was so horrible when I first started out. But then I also smile and feel a sense of accomplishment as I see how far I've come as well.
It's been one hell of a journey and I've grown! I love that. I love the looking back and seeing how
I've changed and how my photography has changed. I love seeing my techniques expand and

change as the years go by. It's only been 6 years (only??) but I'm excited to see where my 

photography takes me in the next 6 years. 

Photography Journey: Part 3.

My second semester was an improvement over the first, mostly because I was more in-depth in my photography classes, surrounded by other photographer-wanna-bes, and finally feeling like I was being initiated into that club I so wanted to be a part of. That second semester, I made friends, slowly and quietly found myself entering a small group within the photography classes where inside jokes were born and where we all worked hard alongside each other, the competition absent and instead a sense of encouragement for one another and acceptance. We didn't see each other as "the competition"...we were in it together, we were friends. It made school so much more bearable.

The classes weren't easier or the work load smaller, but working with others made it easier in a way.
And I threw myself into my photography classes. They only reassured me that I was where I was supposed to be. I loved every part of it (except perhaps those damn tool caddy assignments!).
The more I learned, the more I became part of that club. My first class in-studio was
extremely intimidating. The more advanced students knew wherever went, and how to set everything up, while I stood to the side, helpless and feeling very much the part of a newbie. But I also remember the semester where I, too, walked into that studio, the pro. As my friend Kate stated, "For once we're the pros and not the newbies..." Such a good feeling, let me tell you!

2012: we weren't competitors. We were friends.

School still wasn't without its share of tears. The studying was a killer. Late nights...the night I sat up until 3am, bawling over math because I had a test the next day...the headaches, migraines over studying....the notes galore, the photos I snapped...it all went into the days of school.

Along came my required Business class. I went into it still determined to have my own photography business one day. Then the class came and smacked me across the face. Who knew that to run one's own business, one has to devote 99% of her time to business and only 1% to photography in order to be successful? While some can be passionate about both photography and business and easily combine them, I just cannot. Business is NOT a passion and I decided there was no way I could start my own business. Perfect. I knew I loved photography but now I had no idea what I wanted to do, outside of perhaps work in a studio. The class made me question my priorities...did I love photography enough? I did, it turned out.

I entered 2 photographs into the Spring Exhibit at my school and one of my photos was chosen to hang in the exhibit. I was *thrilled*. Imagine my nervousness as I sat in the school cafeteria for the honor's night. One photo from the exhibit would be chosen as Best of Category. Would mine make 2nd place? I sat, surrounded by my family, barely noticing all the other awards being handed out for all the graphic design categories. Finally it was time. I heard my name. I heard the applause. I saw the blur of people and the floor and the walls as I got up and walked to the front. My photography teacher stood there, his hand outstretched and a grin on his face as he shook my hand and handed me the certificate.

For the first time in my life, I was proud of me. 

For my last semester, instead of taking just my last, four, required classes I decided to add a fifth class: photojournalism. Just as my first semester was hell, so was my last one in a way. Between the mixture of tough classes, confusing teachers, and mix-ups involving my classes and graduation, I found myself feeling very discouraged. On top of that, all the friends I'd made had graduated with their certificates in Photography the prior semester. I told a friend, "School can't let me leave without a fight." This past fall was difficult. I studied my butt off, feeling like it was never enough. Still feeling like a failure even though I hadn't acquired a grade lower than an A- in the past. My GPA was high, and yet I still felt like I had to fight to accomplish anything. The last 6 weeks of classes felt like they dragged on forever. And then finals came. And then. They were over. Time has sped by since then. And then, the other day the mailman dropped a white, thick envelope in the mail. I ripped it open and pulled out that little black book with the tiny piece of paper inside.

I did it. Two and half years of tears, fears, heartaches, headaches, constant tiredness, struggling, fighting, killing myself, feeling like a failure...and a tiny piece of paper saying it was all worth it. I'm not a failure. I accomplished something. I did this. I DID this. In spite of everything, in spite of the times where I felt like I couldn't, the times where I felt worthless and felt like giving up...there's a tiny piece of paper saying that I made it and that I did well. A friend asked me, "How do you feel to be DONE?" It feels...weird. It feels...great. But on one hand, it feels like...it's not done...it feels like just one step up a staircase. It just means I'm facing the next step. But I'm not worrying about that now. I'm taking delight in the fact that I'm done! I'm graduated! I've finished this chapter!

I did it.

Photography Journey: Part 1

2008

I remember the day I got into photography...I was 18, bored, and it was a rainy day. I picked up my mom's little Canon point&shoot camera and walked around the house with it. I just looked for anything "interesting" (I seriously question my idea of interesting!) and shot anything and everything.
I shot a photo of one of the little girls holding...a bouncy ball. Yeah. A pink and white stripedy bouncy ball. It was as lame as it sounds. My composition was all about dead-centering everything and never knowing when to zoom in or NOT to zoom in!, lighting was provided by on-camera flash (aaaah the red eye days!), and I had no idea what the hell exposure, white balance, ISO, and all that "mumbo-jumbo" meant! Auto was my tool. Heaven forbid!  But I loved it. So much that I bought my beloved Booth, a Canon Rebel, who will be turning 6 in April.

2008: Raindrops didn't need to be in focus: artsy!

As before, I shot on auto, no idea what I was doing, but I was happy doing it. Raindrops on leaves was an especial favorite. Doesn't matter if they were in focus or not...blurry just meant artsy, right? (Hahahahahahahaha).

I decided I wanted to take photography lessons, because I finally discovered that my Canon Rebel did not only have an Auto function but, believe it or not!, it also had a manual function where some interesting words like exposure and lighting and f-stop were a true photographer's second language. It was like being in a club and I wanted to be in that club. I looked into taking private lessons from a photographer, even emailing him about what he charged and how such a lesson would occur. The parents vetoed my taking lessons alone with a guy, so I turned to the internet. I managed to find a photography course and paid $90 for the class. 

2009: Rule of Thirds? I really wasn't as clever as I thought.

I think I completed...3? lessons worth before I discovered how rubbish it all was. So I went back to just snapping photos as I liked em. I even discovered the "non-flash" function and how it sometimes worked better than flash! Oh and placing the subject of my photo in other "sections" of the photo instead of dead-center? I thought I was so clever and unique to compose differently.

As I grew older, I realized that reality was drawing nearer and the fact that I would have to eventually support myself was finally dawning. Marriage wasn't happening any time soon...so what better solution than to start my own photography business??

2010: I realized I loved photography!

My first real photography "gig" was my older brother's engagement photos. With my mom as a "partner", I shot photos of my brother and his fiancee in the lovely town of Amherst. I shot and shot, taking hundreds of photos (did I mention, I just snapped and snapped and snapped without stopping? It seemed much more professional to me if you could hear the shutter repeatedly clicking!), and the more I clicked, the more excited I became. I LOVED shooting. I loved the interaction, the posing, the capturing of so many pretty photos. This shoot was the first time I realized that photography was definitely what I wanted to pursue in my life. It was the first time I felt passion, the first time I loved doing something.

After that, I tried to fill my days with photo shoots, a mixture of senior portraits and engagement photos amongst my friends and family. I told everyone I was going to start my own business. I was warned that in order to succeed, I should probably go to school, but laughed and shook my naive little head. Why go to school when I could just start a business on my own? Why spend all that money and leave my comfort zone to just take some stupid classes? I thought I knew everything at 20. 

2010: I thought I knew everything.

Kindness

It is so easy to get captured in my own head and to believe that my pain is all that matters. My tears, my fears, my hurts...what you feel is what grabs your attention. In those moments of feeling lost and alone it is easy to believe that there is no pain greater than your own.

As an INFJ, it is very easy for me to see others' pain and to empathize, but even I sometimes put my pain first. Having been raised with the mindset that humbling means putting others first, I struggled to ever care for myself. Then, one day, I accepted that it was okay, it was even good to put myself first.

Your own pain and tears and fears are real. They matter. How I feel matters. Sometimes, I have to put myself first because not to do so would mean breaking down, falling to pieces, not functioning. Our bodies and our minds, our physical and spiritual beings need the attention and time to recover. I say this because I do not want you to feel that I am promoting NEVER putting yourself first. Because I'm not.

However. What I've discovered in this journey of self-healing and self-discovery and allowing myself to grow and mend, is that it is so easy to put yourself first all the time. To avoid things that cause you discomfort, even things that could help others.

I have realized that it is very easy to be kind only to yourself and redirect the annoyance and the grievances you once would push on yourself on to others.

Learning to love yourself, being kind, self-healing...it's not about pointing the hatred and the annoyance and the drive of perfectionism onto others. It's about disposing of these feelings altogether so that you are not filling your life with them or someone else's life.

It is easy to get into the habit of thinking, "I've had greater pain than she has and if I can pick myself back up, then she can too!" When you direct kindness inward, don't forget to direct it outward too. Clean out the hate, the vile feelings, but don't just push them out into the world. Throw them away.

It is hard to choose to be kind sometimes: to yourself and to others. What I don't always realize is that kindness is a choice. I don't want to lose the empathy I have as an INFJ, I don't want to lose my characteristic of always rooting and fighting for the underdog, I don't want to lose my sensitivity to others' pain and my urge to help those in need, no matter how great or small their need is. I also do not want to lose the art of being kind to myself, stop my practice of learning to forgive or accept myself. It is a hard balance to achieve. I want to blow out all my anger and self-hatred into a place where it cannot hurt, instead of redirecting it from myself to others.

I want to choose to be kind. Sometimes this means putting others before myself...sometimes all it means is being patient, even when I feel like people should suck it up. Sometimes, it means sucking it up myself. Whatever I do, wherever I go, whomever I become...above all, I want to be kind, the kind of kindness that God instilled in my personality. It's a choice, kindness is...so 2014, let's be kind: both to myself and everyone.

I Am Not Who I Used To Be

Jan. 1, 2013. 

2013 was a long and hard year, full of self-discovery and struggles. I can see how I am still the same person I was on Jan. 1st, 2013 but I also see the changes, the growth. 

I'm not who I used to be. 

While I feel like in some ways I took two steps back for each step I took forward, I know that I've learned so much in 2013, about life, about myself.

I learned it's okay to love myself, that I don't have to be perfect in everything to still be worthwhile.

I learned it is far easier to ask forgiveness than to grant it, which is sad.

I learned that I am strong, I am smart, and I am worthwhile.

I learned that it's okay to be different...I am not the girl who wants to go out and party and have the same experiences as most adults in their 20s. I am quiet, I like being alone, I am bookish, nerdy, a planner, and not as spontaneous as some people wish me to be. And that's okay. 

I learned that it is not always easy to love others, but it is worth it.

I learned that the hard things, the struggles make the triumphs even more valuable.

I learned that opening myself up, being completely vulnerable is as scary as hell, but sometimes life calls for me to be vulnerable to those around me.

I learned that I make a difference in people's lives. Even though it is in the smallest ways, I do matter. 

I learned life's never going to be easy but fighting my way through the world transforms you into the person you were meant to be.

In spite of everything, I've learned that no matter how many hours, days, weeks, months, seasons, years go by...

I am still me.

Jan. 1st, 2014. 

I am Sam. 

And for the first time in forever, I love being me, imperfections and all.