Tell Me About It: Week 6

Today, we have two stories from Sabryna and Melissa. Even though Sabryna got married in Bali and goes on exotic vacations on the regular, her most romantic moment is so simple, honest and real.


Melissa's story definitely resonated with me as well. I have had romantic moments, but I've also had plenty of what she discusses.


Let me know what you think about each! 

A most romantic moment...

When Rebecca asked me to write about my most romantic moment, I had a little panic. I couldn’t pinpoint one. My husband, Anthony, and I are semi-awkward people. He’s not very suave and I’m not exactly graceful. We try, but generally end up in a fit of laughter. I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

To me, romance is that moment when you know without a doubt that he loves you with his whole heart. When you feel the butterflies and don’t always know what to say. Our most recent ‘most romantic moment’ happened this Christmas, involving an iPad, a father-in-law, and a piece of tape.

So you can know him a little better... Anthony is an amazing man, my best friend, and my soul mate. While we have a lot in common, he is very much the yin to my yang. He works in investment banking, while I’m an elementary art teacher. He’s very organized, from his socks, to his computer, to our ‘important documents’ drawer. Anthony takes excellent care of his things, and takes great pride in people commenting on how his 8 year old kayaks look brand new! He likes everything to be just so. I, in contrast, seem to thrive in the land of disorganized procrastination. It seems the best outfits, school work, and trips come out of it (maybe because Anthony plans them... :)

Back to our romantic moment. We travel a lot and had really been wanting an iPad to watch movies on. We’re also down to one functioning laptop at home, which can be a big battle! So we thought iPad was definitely the way to go. When Anthony’s dad asked what we wanted for Christmas it seemed like the obvious answer. Then the iPad came! We were prepared, had bought the cover, already had the movies downloaded, all ready for our new toy! Then as we’re taking it out of the box and putting the cover on I see an engraving on the back, and engraving that says Anthony. Not Anthony and Sabryna. I’m generally not an emotional person, but I was so upset! It wasn’t the fact that my name was absent, it’s that I had been absent from my father-in-laws thoughts when he got the gift. I ended up leaving for class in tears, truly surprised by how hurt I was.

When I came home the iPad was sitting on the kitchen table face down, so I could see the engraving. Except it wasn’t there anymore. Now there is a piece of torn paper with Anthony and Sabryna’s iPad scrawled in man-handwriting, taped over where I was left out. It was the most beautiful gift Anthony could have given me, he loves me more than having everything just so. 

Women have an amazing capacity for creating drama. We use this drama to bring about one climactic, tension-relieving, emotion-flooded moment and then delude ourselves into believing these feelings mean love. 

Ok, maybe that is just me—I am not sure I can bring down my entire gender on that one.

The point is I am not sure that I have had my most romantic moment yet. Oh, believe me, I have tried. A product of Disney movies and Mariah Carey songs, I was raised with beacoup notions of true love and happily ever after. I therefore began to manipulate and forge my own romantic instances when I started dating: I hinted at flowers and then acted surprised when they came; I staged dances in the rain to no music; I convinced my first love to fly out to meet me in Italy freshman year for a final tearful goodbye in Cinque Terre.

I am not saying I have not felt love, but I am saying that there have been very few romantic moments in my life that were not calculated carefully before hand (consciously or otherwise.) As I age, my self-deception has at least become much more apparent to me—even if I still struggle with the urge to manipulate my situations. 

So, the most romantic moment in my life has not happened yet. When it comes it may or may not involve the elements I used to dream about—flowing white skirt, handsome boy, warm summer evening, Glenn Miller's Moonlight Serenade...

I can promise you, however, that when this moment happens I will NOT have seen it coming.

I hope you enjoyed this week's Tell Me About It stories! Melissa's new website, Salt Dream, has quickly become my favorite. She offers up ideas for simpler living almost every day. There are lots of DIY projects and really creative approaches to life in general. I hope you'll go check it out. 

If you are new to the series, you can find other stories here:

Week 1, Week 2, Week 3, Week 4, Week 5

If you're interested in sending me a story for the Tell Me About It series check out the details here!

Panic...not at the Disco

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Have you ever experienced extreme physical anxiety?

 It's only happened to me a couple times, but when it does, it takes over. My heart races. My cheeks flush and burn. My stomach ties itself in knots and everything tenses. I feel crippled even though my mind tells me it will be fine, everything happens how it should. I take deep breaths, but nothing seems to work. I feel sick to my stomach and want to cry. My hands shake uncontrollably and if I try to speak, it shakes too.  

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 Luckily, this only lasts a short amount of time because it either consumes so much of my energy that I become exhausted and numb or the culpable situation passes. 

This happens to me in a much lesser fashion before I have to speak in public, but then when I get up and speak, it's always fine and I have no trouble. 

The times it really takes over and gets me is when I engage in a confrontation of some sort with someone I care about. I fear letting people down, disappointing them. It terrifies me.

Even though, when I think through things, I can rationalize why other peoples' opinions don't matter. Why my behavior is correct. Why their opinions are incorrect. 

Even though I can think it through, it physically pains me to think of their upset. I don't let it control what I do, but it's certainly a hurdle. It used to be that I would do anything to avoid it, even if it was detrimental to me. 

Over time, I've realized that's no way to live. So I don't. But every once in a while, that sneaky little beast shows up and rears its ugly head. I wait for it it pass and keep going. That's just life, right?

It definitely makes me feel for people who suffer from panic attacks on a regular basis. I can't even imagine. 

Do you experience panic? How do you cope?

Tell Me About It: Week 4

Hello everyone! Glad you could make it over for our latest romantic stories!


 Today's Tell Me About It post includes stories from Chelsea and Melissa. I love how sweet and honest these girls are.


Please make sure to visit their sites!

Hi friends of Rebecca! I'm Chelsea and I blog over at Life is a Sunset. Today I'm here to tell you about one of the most romantic moments of my life. I still get chills and butterflies just thinking about it. I'm excited to share this story with you so let's go back in time, shall we?

I fell in love with this boy. I fell hard. And quickly. Toward the beginning of our memories, he would come over to my apartment some nights after work to watch TV, bake, or dance in my living room. Yes, you read that correctly. There was this dance club in the city we were living in that would have country dancing and all that jazz. Apparently there were some line dances and a little bit of waltzing that I should brush up on so he came over and reviewed everything with me before we went later that week. He also taught me how to properly be "dipped." I grew up training in dance yet I never learned how to dip. Go figure.

Anyway, during one of our dancing-in-the-living-room sessions, we started talking about good songs to waltz to and I mentioned Norah Jones' "Come Away With Me" - one of my favorites! So, we went dancing later that week and I was able to utilize my new dipping skills. A couple weeks pass by and our relationship quickly grows and our feelings further develop. It was love of the truest kind. I just knew it.

One night, we went for a drive about 45 minutes out of the city to go to this fun, hip ice cream joint where we hung out for a bit and I took care of my cookie dough craving. Then, we went up the street to the top of the hill where there was a nice view and parked our car in the parking lot. Not shady at all, I promise. He got out and told me to come sit on the trunk of the car with him to take it all in on that starry night.

So, I did. We sat there with his arm around me and my head rested on his shoulder feeling the crisp breeze at our cheeks while it ruffled through our hair.  It was so peaceful and calm and my heart was full. Then, he whispered to me, "Hold on just a sec" and went back into the car. He rolled down the windows and as he started walking back my way, that's when I heard it.

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"Come Away With Me" started playing from his speakers.

He reached his hand out toward me gesturing for me to come dance. I couldn't believe it. He had remembered! We shared a romantic dance, just the two of us in this parking lot at the top of the hill with the beautiful view. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face and didn't want to. He melted my heart and that was just the start of the deepest love I've ever felt...

I think that sometimes it's in those most unexpected moments that the truest romance can be felt. Because it's just raw and real and beautiful.

“I'm so ugly,” I stammered in front of my oversized bathroom mirror one morning.

“Oh, honey, you're so cute,” said my mother, trying to reassure me. But her words brushed against my ears like the kiss of death, like telling someone they have a good personality - which she proceeded to do two minutes later when she found me still in the bathroom analyzing my features. The mirror, coupled with three high-watt light bulbs overhead, illuminated every tiny flaw. My downward slanting nose. My small mouth. My deformed hands and feet. And my electric wheelchair that seemed to eat me alive, taking center stage in the story of my life.

It was the day I learned to fear the mirror - the day I began my feud with myself.

I'd been envisioning my wedding day since I was 4. My flowing white gown. The paisley pink dresses for my bridesmaids. And a handsome man waiting to take me in his arms at the end of that long aisle, lined with dimly lit scented candles and rose petals.

Growing up, I always envied my younger sister, Janelle. She was the pretty one of the family - Swedish, flowing blonde hair, crystal blue eyes, straight and slender arms and legs and a body that was completely disability-free. Like a Greek goddess, she possessed an air of poise and perfection, and everyone commented on how beautiful she was.

They followed up their praise with compliments for me, but they always somehow fell flat - a hollow, empty cry into the dark, void night. I graciously accepted, forcing the beginning of a faint smile across my face, but I felt an arrow pierce the heart of my burgeoning young womanhood.

Like any young girl, I'd had my fair share of crushes. There was the blonde boy in my second-grade class who I used to daydream about on a daily basis, and my red cheeks matched the color of my hair any time he'd walk by.

There was the boy on my high school newspaper. We were co-editors, and I spent meetings thinking not about the upcoming story assignments or proofing a new layout, but studying intensely his piercing eyes, wavy brown hair I desperately wanted to tousle and the way his orange shirt brought out his smile.

And then there was Him. My first love. It started innocently when I was 13, when I referred to him as “a major babe” in my journal and then grew to deeper feelings of envisioning myself growing old with him. I found myself falling for him. Hard. I analyzed every chance meeting we had in my journal. What did his body language mean? What was he wearing? How long did we talk? What did he say? How did he say it?

But for some reason, I could never muster the courage to tell him - or any of these other crushes - how I felt, not because our differing personalities may have gotten in the way, but because I could feel my disability already had. And I was crushed.

“Why am I 20 and never had a boyfriend?” I wrote in my journal in 2001. “No boy has ever been interested in me. Am I deficient in some department? Do I turn guys off with my disability? I really want to experience true love, but I wonder if that could ever happen to someone as ugly and undesirable as me? I want guys to take me for who I am and look past my disability. Can't they find someone to love in this invalid body?

In my world, where all the twentysomethings around me could easily couple up, I stood somewhat on the outside, peering through the window of a life I desperately wanted but would never have. I even started to feel like an invisible ghost that no man could ever see “in that way.”

Maybe I was afraid to admit that I'd grown disgusted with my body, or maybe part of me just didn't want to think about it anymore, but from that moment, I shifted my focus to my mind. I excelled at all things academic, and by my junior year of college, I had a shelf of shiny accolades. A 3.9 GPA. A plaque for the Best Reporter on my college's newspaper. A certificate for being an outstanding women student. But I still felt alone. Empty.

I had a beautiful mind. But the little girl in me - the one who sat on her bed and dreamed so long ago of the flowing white dress - still wanted so desperately to feel pretty on the outside.

There's a large lagoon in the heart of my college alma mater. I must have walked around it hundreds of times, feeling the gnaw of nostalgia when I passed a group of preschoolers leaning into the water to feed bread crumbs to the squawking ducks. The ducks. I finally saw them for the first time one day. I stopped on the grassy banks for a moment to observe those winged birds flapping and fluttering in the shallow water. There was always one duck the flock seemed to leave behind as they paddled toward the majestic geese. The poor duck looked all alone and lost, like he was somehow desperately searching for his place in the world. I felt an instant connection with that lonely duck. We were both ugly ducklings in a sea of beautiful, graceful swans.

I'd spent so many years feeling ugly on the outside. When men never seemed to take an interest, I assumed it must be me. And my feeble attempts at focusing on my mind had merely been a way to avoid my body, something I'd come to view as an “ugly mess.”

For so long, I'd tried to run away from my disability. After all, my disability had become a wall that got in the way of everything. But it's not that men were uncomfortable with my disability. I was. And I had been afraid to admit it to myself.

All I wanted was for a man to look past my disability and see the real me - she was tucked in there just waiting to come out of her shell - but it had to start with me. The next time I looked in the mirror, I started to notice my wavy red hair, my freckles and my piercing green eyes. But what stood out most were my surgical scars, not as a hopeless reminder of my differences, but as a badge of honor. A symbol of all I've overcome - even a symbol of what makes me beautiful. My swan had finally blossomed.

Don't forget to visit Chelsea and Melissa!

If you are new to the series, you can find other stories here:

Week 1, Week 2, Week 3

More info on participating in the Tell Me About It series can be found here!

Academic Nonsense Has Taken Over My Life Today

Feeling pretty uninspired on this freezing cold Monday. Loved my weekend, but cold weather, a quiz tonight and a finance midterm on Wednesday have me in a slightly anxious frame of mind. 

So, instead of bringing you down with my doom and gloom, I'll refer you to my most recent reads:

Why Do They Hate Us? - By Mona Eltahawy | Foreign Policy

In Weak Job Market, One in Two College Graduates Are Jobless or Underemployed

China's Latest Craze: dyeing pets to look like other wild animals

I'll be back a bit later in the week after I tackle this academic nonsense. Don't forget to check back on Wednesday for our latest Tell Me About It post!

Journey Forward: Role Model

Today's Journey Forward assignment asks me to tell you about my role model. Answering this is simple. My role model was and is my paternal grandmother. Although she is no longer here, she influences my life on a daily basis. 

Stubborness

Even though being stubborn is supposedly an Irish trait, I'm pretty sure I inherited my stubborn streak from her instead of my mom's Irish Catholic side of the family. And, ask anyone close to me, I have a mean stubborn streak! 

Integrity

She taught me about integrity. Character is the most important thing a person has. It matters what you do, even if no one else is looking. 

Toughness

She taught me how to be tough - I think I learned how to put on a facade from her. Obviously, this can be taken too far, but in general, there's no need to air dirty laundry in public. If you are living your life correctly, that's what matters. You don't need public vindication. 

Dilligence

She taught me how to work hard and finish projects. I can't tell you how many projects we did over the years. Whether it was tilling the garden or putting up fencing to keep the deer out or making dinner for Pop-pop, we were always doing something. 

Porch Sitting

Most importantly, she taught me the value of porch sitting. Every evening, we'd run across the field to her house and she'd give us pop-ices. We'd sit on the glider and rock and chat and stay out until the fireflies started dancing through the yard. I learned about her and her life. She always took the time to listen to me and what I thought was important. 

Taking time each day to slow down and really listen to people, to enjoy this wonderful world we live in, that's what you learn to do when you porch sit. 

Try it out. Let me know how it goes for you. 

It's hard in today's world to really truly unplug, and slow down. There are always a million things to do, but honestly, if you aren't taking the time to enjoy or participate in your relationships, what's the real value of getting those other things done?

You can check out the other Journey Forward posts here:


Also, don't forget to send me your submissions for the new Tell Me About It series! I've received an overwhelmingly positive response and can't wait to start sharing the stories! I love hearing about other peoples' life experiences, and especially what they find romantic!

On Love and Renovations

Isn't this a powerful statement? 


Now, I know we've discussed love before, here and here. But I'd like to get your thoughts on this latest bit of wondering.

As little girls, we watched our Disney movies, and learned about love  from fairy tales. Princes, knights and handsome street urchins swept princesses off their feet. They fell in love with big eyes and adoring sighs.  


So we dreamed that we were princesses, and although not all of us wait for a prince, some of us are more of the rough and tumble, go out and find our own prince types, we went on a search for a crazy, all-consuming, passionate love.

Yet, the divorce rate for first marriages in the US is a staggering 41%.

 However, in India, where most marriages are arranged and falling in love is not a required component, the divorce rate in recent years has been as low as 1%. It has increased as much as 150% percent with the rise of the middle class. Western culture has crept into Indian society, provoking more love based marriages. 

Obviously, this indicates correlation and does not prove causation. But doesn't it make you stop to think?

I will be the first to say that a culture which promotes arranged marriage most definitely has its flaws. I could never allow someone to make that sort of a decision for me. 

However, when the expectation of marriage does not include the presence of a sappy feeling, but rather a commitment and an active love, and you have the freedom to choose to make that commitment with someone with whom you have fallen in love, it would seem that the marriage might stand a better chance. 

What do you think? 
(Sources for my statistics: 1, 2, 3)

On another and completely unrelated note...

We spent our weekend fixing up a house that Chris would like to sell. I think these new floors make a dramatic improvement. 

I'm impressed with how well it turned out. It definitely changes the feel of the room!

Journey Forward: Clearing my Mind

This week, Chelsea's assignment for the Journey Forward Challenge is to answer these questions for you and for myself. 

"What helps you to clear your mind? Where do you go/what do you do to re-center and re-focus yourself?"

When I start to panic, nothing clears my mind like water. I can go swim laps, go sit by the river, take a walk by the harbor, if I'm lucky - go out on a boat, or in a pinch take a long hot shower. It gives me time to think, to pray, to simplify.  Something about it makes life feel better. 

Then, I take a step back and focus on the wonderful things in my life. I actively acknowledge my privileges, and put things back into perspective. 

Then, logically, I realize that no matter how bad things are, I will have food to eat, clothes to wear and people who love me. How bad can things really be? 

This does not mean that life will go smoothly or the problems will go away. It just means that life will continue, and everything will work out in the way it should. My role is to do the best I possibly can do as I continue along through it. 

Be sure to check in on the other Journey Forward Entries!

So, now I ask you:
 "What helps you to clear your mind? Where do you go/what do you do to re-center and re-focus yourself?"

Disclaimer: May Be Inappropriate for Younger Audiences

Smiley face - mine, Photo - Jessica Yatrofsky 

Warning: this link contains nudity. The girls over at The Core posted a really interesting feature on artist, Jessica Yatrofsky. Ms. Yatrofsky displays male nudity in an attempt to equalize the overwhelming emphasis on the female body in popular culture.

'Jessica Yatrofsky:  “My work has the underlying desire to make male nudity more visible in our cultural landscape. Plus: dicks are more easy on the eyes, right?! Our society is always eager to construct and depict the sexuality of women, but actively avoids the sexuality of men, except as voyeurs. Our generation should be challenging these inequalities.” '

While it is true that women are overly sexualized and put on display in advertising and movies, does the remedy come in the form of subjecting men to the same scrutiny? 

Or is the point moot? Do women have the same physical reaction to male nudity as men do to female nudity? 

Is this reaction inherent or a result of societal conditioning?

Initially, did the provocative displays of the female body offend the senses and shock people in the same way that Ms. Yatrofsky's photos do? Are they less shocking because we have become desensitized?

If we are desensitized, I would argue that it isn't a good thing. Just as inflation occurs when the market is flooded with currency, thereby devaluing the currency; the flooding of public space with scantily clad women may lessen the value of the female body. 

Many argue that it empowers women, because they have the choice to do with their bodies what they will. I would never say that anyone should mandate how women should dress, but as a woman - making those decisions for myself, could modesty add value? The overwhelming availability of female nudity subjects each woman to endless comparison. Eating disorders and plastic surgery and rampant consumerism are the destructive forces threatening women from the teen years through adulthood. 

 The shape of a woman's body which once was hers and hers alone to share, is now held to some standard set by the public market. In the attempt to escape a patriarchal control, have we gone too far? 

What do you think?

Women Everywhere Should Be Outraged

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This issue transcends partisanship. 

Rush Limbaugh disgusts me and will disgust you as well. 

Please watch this video through to the end. 

Women on all sides of the contraception debate should be up in arms over this type of misogyny. Over the course of several radio shows, Mr. Limbaugh attempted to undermine Ms. Fluke's public testimony by accusing her of sexual promiscuity. 

How many steps backward can one man take us?

Sandra Fluke, a student, respectfully exercised her constitutional right to free speech, and took the time to participate in the democratic process. This is something any conservative or liberal should applaud. If you disagree with her, participate yourself.

 However, Rush Limbaugh lambasted her, calling her a "slut", and a "prostitute" and saying that he wanted to see the videos of all the sex she is supposedly having. 

You, DIRTY PERVERTED MAN! 

 Ms. Fluke testified on behalf of her friend. She did not testify about sexual liberty, she testified about how contraception is used for many medical purposes apart from contraception, including the prevention of cysts and seizures. Rush argued that because she wanted healthcare coverage to include coverage of contraception that she wanted to be paid for sex and was therefore a prostitute. 

Let's not even go into Rush's own personal issues with prescription drugs...we don't want to stoop as low as him. 

He provides plenty of fodder against himself with the words out of his mouth. Not only are they completely illogical, they are offensive and crude. 

Whether you agree with Ms. Fluke's testimony or blatantly disagree with it - you should be outraged that a woman, who had the courage to advocate for her beliefs in the public spotlight, was so publicly defamed with blatant ad hominem attacks.

Does Mr. Limbaugh have a right to free speech? Absolutely. Has he abused it? Absolutely. 

This man would not be on the radio if he didn't have loyal listeners. 

WHY ARE PEOPLE STILL LISTENING TO HIM?!

STOP LISTENING TO HIM. 

He is not the voice of the conservative movement and as a conservative, I am ashamed he labels himself as such. 

I hope that with this crude display, he has finally rid himself of loyal listeners and will be pushed out of the spotlight.

 I hope that his lack of logic and blatant misogyny will encourage people to wake up and participate in the democratic process in a constructive manner.


Also, the Washington Post published a very interesting article on sexual shaming of women. Nowhere in the Bible is Mary Magdalene actually called a prostitute, but for years, the church taught that she was one. Just another interesting approach to the issue.  

Journey Forward: A Letter to Myself One Year Ago

Dear Rebecca, 

You are burning the candle at both ends.

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This is what you do. It is going to take it's toll on your body, your heart, your patience and your relationships. You will break and be remade (both figuratively and literally).

Things work how they are supposed to though, for reasons you have yet to see. 

The effort you've put in now, the pain, the exhaustion, the stress will pay off in spades. 

You will make it to Bali and have a week of wonderful. 

You will renew friendships and reaffirm things you know about yourself but have put on a shelf; that you are strong, that you are able, that you need to change your life and it cannot wait. 

You will find the strength to do this thing because you know it is your future. Don't settle. Find balance. 

You can't change anyone but yourself; this is your time for you. 

You will heal and learn to trust God and the people He puts in your life. You will learn to love in a way you didn't know was possible. 

Everything will be topsy turvy but you will find your way. 

Your year will be full of adventures you haven't planned and people you've never met. 

The things you value will change but the most important things will remain. You will learn that you don't have to please everyone all the time. You will get better at saying no. You won't feel the need to over-analyze and gain approval of every facet of your relationship because ultimately, it isn't about what works for others. 

Be confident and trust your instincts. After all, you have to take risks to truly gain. 

Playing it safe won't cut it. 

At the end of this year, you will still be burning the candle at both ends, but your time will be spent in dramatically different ways. You will be in school and you will be academically challenged for the first time. Skating by won't work anymore.

You will spend your weekends going non-stop. You will get lost in those weekends and it will keep you going. 

Take time for yourself and the things that restore you.

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Keep putting one foot in front of the other and things will work out the way they should. 

Chelsea from LifeIsASunset hosts the Journey Forward challenge. 

Please stop by Chelsea's page if you are interested in other journeys. 

She has had an incomprehensible year. 

Keep her in your thoughts and prayers.