What's your reflection?

What's your reflection?

Have you ever wondered what your life looks like from the outside. When other people look at you, what do they see? Is that an accurate reflection of what's really on the inside?

With the rise in prominence that Facebook has taken over the last nine years (can you believe it's been that long?), it has truly changed the way that we interact with one another...across the world. Of course, it's really just one piece of the social media puzzle.
Twitter, Vine, Instagram, Tinder, Yahoo, Flickr, LinkedIn, and the list goes on and on. Everyday they shape our perception of reality.

When I was growing up (which is about to make me sound old), cameras used film. You had to be selective about what you took pictures of because to see each picture, you had to pay to get it developed. If your shirt was untucked or hair looked lopsided or your smile was weird, you wouldn't actually discover that until you had your film developed. And this was usually several weeks after the event occurred, preserving your imperfections just as they were.

Now? Digital cameras. Photoshop. On the go photo editing. You can have that perfectly white smile (that you don't really have) with a quick swipe across the screen. The wind made your hair look weird? Don't worry, just retake it (because you checked to make sure it turned out as soon as you took it). That angle made you look like you had a double chin? Just take it again and hold the camera higher. And then...facebook it. Or Instagram it. Or tweet it. Now that you have achieved what you perceive to be a socially acceptable representation of what's going on it your life, it's time to share that with the world.

It's not just the pictures, it's the posts. The words you use. What do your words say about you? Are you passive aggressively posting song lyrics because you hope that one person will read it and know you're really directing it at them? Is the language you chose to display an accurate reflection of the person you truly are inside, or is it a show for your friends? Do you really think you're going to attract someone worthy of what you deserve by airing out your disappointment as a relationship doesn't work out the way that you wanted? Are you checking into a place and tagging someone you're with just because you know someone else is going to see it and be upset by it?

Where is the honesty of reality in all of this?

I've always promised to be honest in my blog posts. Even when it's uncomfortable. (See the one where I got fat) And if I'm being honest, I know I've done most of those things at one point or another. Readily admitting it. I'm not any better than anyone else. And you know what? When you passively aggressively post, most people will passively aggressively ignore you. Or confront you...and it won't be pleasant. And when you post crude things, people will attribute crudeness as one of your character attributes. And I can't say for sure, but I think people are generally attracted to positive people.

But it's just Facebook, right? It's not real.

What's the first thing you do in the morning? I usually reach over, turn off the alarm on my phone, and then open up Twitter for my morning news. In less than five minutes I know the headlines from the New York Times, Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, and Today's TMJ4. I know what the weather is going to be like for the day, who won the football game from the night before, and what my cousin is wearing today (thanks Snapchat). At this point I usually roll onto my back, delete my junk emails, and scroll my Facebook feed to see what happened overnight. And we've all had that moment. You know the one where you see that a certain someone "liked" one of your pictures...and it makes your morning. Or maybe you see a picture of your friend's toddler who "made their first poopy in the big boy/girl potty...and breakfast no longer seems like such a good idea. I've been awake for ten minutes, the smell of coffee percolating is starting to dance from the kitchen to my bedroom, and the tone for my day has been set by people's posts on what I perceive to be their reality based on what they've shared. All without even leaving the comforts of my bed. And how I feel is very real.

I'm not saying I'm any better than anyone else. I'm not directly this blog post at anyone. I'm directing at me. I'm directing it at all of us. People are fragile and resilient and beautiful and flawed and confused and excited and everything in between. And it's ok to share that. And like it. And tweet it. And favorite it. That's real.

Reflections are scary. You can't fake a reflection. What you see it what you get. Are you being honest with what your reflection shows? What does your reflection say about you?

My favorite pictures are the blurry ones. It's when people are the most real. The blur. The laughter. The movement. The double chins. The slightly discolored teeth. The messed up hair. That's real. And scary. And as Bruno Mars so aptly puts it...that's what makes you beautiful.

Live. Laugh. Love.

what the world needs now...

I don’t understand.

I don’t understand why people feel the need to do or say something that they know is going to intentionally hurt someone else.

The look that you give someone that is going to make them question what they wore.

The picture on Facebook because you know it’s going to hurt someone who sees it.

Completing an assignment with an air of arrogance about it, as if you couldn’t possibly have anything to learn from your teacher.

Making a situation appear to be something other than what it really is to play mind games with someone.

Calling someone’s opinion stupid because it’s not yours.

Using a disagreement with someone as excuse to form a void in your relationship.

Instead of leaving it alone.

Instead of not posting it.
Instead of thinking outside the box.
Instead of showing kindness.
Instead of opening your mind to new ideas.
Instead of working through it.

Dear world,

Life is too short, too fragile. People are too important. The saying sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me is crap. Words do hurt. And they stick with you a long time.

Memories last a lifetime. Can we fill these lives with good ones? Can we stop hurting each other and start helping each other? Can we stop giving each other nasty looks? And stop being passive aggressive on Facebook? And start being respectful of those in authority over us? And be honest with each other about what happens? And build each other up, even if that does mean someone else looks better than you? And stop letting our disagreements get in the way of our friendships and relationships?

Can we just be patient? Kind? Encouraging? Respectful? Forgiving? Truthful? Trusting? Hopeful? Persistant?

That's love. All of those are ways to show love to the people in your life. We all have our faults and our struggles and our hardships. I most certainly am not any better than anyone reading this. But let’s stop hurting each other, and start encouraging each other.

 

Live. Laugh. Love.

iRead

When I was a little girl, I would spend hours at the library. From Babysitter's Club books to Sweet Valley Twins and everything in between (except Goosebumps...way too scary for this little girl) I would read it. I had usually finished the required reading for the summer reading program by the end of June. I went to Noah's Ark in Wisconsin Dells more times than I can remember because I completed the entire summer reading program. Reading has always been a pastime with which I was completely in love.

I think sometimes we get so swept up in being an adult that we forget to take time for the little things. People like to tease me for being "easily amused" by the little things. Like a new battery arriving in the mail for a remote. Or someone forgiving my library fine. Or getting a text message from someone just asking me about my day. There are so many things that are bad in this world, that I just feel like we need to take every ounce of good, no matter how small or insignificant, and appreciate it. What excited you when you were younger? A new box of crayons or sidewalk chalk? Mom or Dad taking you to McDonald's for supper and letting you get a Happy Meal? The first day of summer when you got that brand new pool pass that you knew would be wrinkly from use by the end of the summer? When Mom made homemade play dough. Catching fireflies  while the baseball game across the street continued late into the night? When you got to go to the Pumpkin farm and pick out your own pumpkin?

The funny thing is that almost all of these are things that I remember from my childhood that didn't

require a lot of time or energy, but sure did bring me a lot of happiness. They are also things that I still try to do as an adult, despite the fact that I don't have kids. Today I did something from my childhood that brings me joy. I read.

Now normally when I come home from a day of work, I get home around 8pm (keeping in mind that I left between 6 and 6:30am). This is usually just enough time to eat something if I haven't already, packed up the bag for the next day, wash my face, and crawl into bed. Despite there being several books on my nightstand, the last thing that I want to do is read. The truth of the matter is, I've been reading emails or work for the majority of the day and I'm probably going to fall asleep within ten minutes and not remember what I read anyway.

But today? Oh, today was different. You see, today...I had the day off. This is my first day off since August 12 when we started school. Weekends don't count...everybody has those (and I usually put in 12-16 hours of school work anyway). And any additional time off has been filled with teacher conferences or meetings of some sort. But today? Today was different. I didn't have to be at school for any meetings. I knew I wouldn't get called into school as tech support because there wasn't anything else going on. Today was mine.

I spent the majority of the weekend working on household tasks that haven't gotten done over the course of a couple very busy weeks. This morning I woke up to a pocket dial from the Midwest around 6:15am, but that was ok because I got up to start my day. By 9am, I had a load of laundry through the wash, the dishwasher full, and a sink full of dishes drying. I made some eggs and veggies and a big pot of coffee, and walked out onto my patio to do something that I haven't done since probably last June...read. I've been trying to get through the lastest Jodi Picoult book, The Storyteller. (Sidenote: Although intense sometimes, I'd highly recommend, especially if you have any interest in the Holocaust.)

There was a part of the book that really struck me as I was reading it. Two of the characters, Leo and Sage, are not a couple, though they keep getting approached and treated as one by a variety of people from the small town that the two of them are visiting.

*The following passage is from an excerpt from Jodi Piccoult's book The Storyteller. I do not own the content. Copyright 2013 Jodi Picoult

Twice more we are approached and asked if we've just moved here. The first time, Leo says that we were going to go to the movies but something was playing so we came to temple instead. The second time, he replies that he is a federal agent and I'm helping him crack a case. The man who's been chatting with us laughs. "Good one," he says.
"You'd be surprised how hard it is to get people to believe the truth," Leo tells me later, as we walk across the parking lot.
But I'm not surprised. Look at how hard I fought Josef, when he tried to tell me who he used to be. "I guess that's because most of the time we don't want to admit it to ourselves."
"That's true," Leo says thoughtfully. "It's amazing what you can convince yourself of, if you buy into the lie."
You can believe, for example, that a dead-end job is a career. You can blame our ugliness for keeping people at bay, when in reality you're crippled by the thought of letting another person close enough to potentially scar you even more deeply. You can tell yourself that it's safer to love someone who will never really love you back, because you can't lose someone you never had."

That last line made me stop in the midst of my coffee drinking marathon. Isn't that true in a variety of circumstances? How many times have we chosen a certain path because it would be easier, and not because it was necessarily the right choice. How many of us have taken the easy path to avoid conflict? How many of us have stayed in a relationship that, if we looked deep down and were truly honest with ourselves, knew that it wasn't good for us to be in? Or that we spent so much time convincing ourselves that it was right but we knew would never really last? Because then we would be alone. And sometimes something is better than nothing? Or maybe there was someone, but giving yourself to them meant giving up control...and along with them came the potential for heartache...or even heartbreak.

Do you remember the movie Along Came Polly? If you haven't seen it or have forgotten, here's a little reminder...

Risk is scary. It means that there is the possibility for loss. But it also means that you have something or the potential for something that is worth losing. And I don't know about you, but I don't like to live with "what ifs." Sometimes you just need to try...jump in head first. I think of this every time I get into the pool at the gym. I know the first minute is going to be a little uncomfortable or shocking to my system. But I know the reward (in this case, sexy toned arms) are going to worth the risk. I think the same is true for lots of things in life, but especially in relationships. Sometimes you just need to jump in. Try it. Challenge yourself. Yes, there is the potential for loss. Or hurt. Or heartbreak. But these are the experiences that make us who we are...and who we are becoming. They are the experiences that are preparing us for the reward. And sometimes? Sometimes the reward far outweighs the risk.

Live. Laugh. Love.

Always the write time...

If you know me as all, you'll know that grammatical errors drive me nuts. I'm not exactly sure how this happened though because I didn't really have much of an English class until 7th grade (I still remember the look of panic on the new teacher's face when he realized the whole class of 18 was at a third grade English level). I still couldn't diagram a sentence for you to save myself, but I have always loved books and reading. Props to my mom for letting us kids read hours upon hours in the summers. My younger brother and I would ride our bikes down to the library during the summers (remember the summer reading program) and bask in the relief of the free air condition and free book on many hot Wisconsin afternoons.

Anyway, somewhere along the lines I fell in love with writing. I can't tell you any of the rules behind, but I love to do it. And if you use to, too, or two incorrectly (along with their, there, they're...not to mention you're and your) it'll drive me bonkers. Just don't ask me to tell you what anything is beyond the basic parts of speech. But I digress from the topic at hand...what was that again?

Ah, yes. Writing. It has become my outlet. Especially in the last couple years. I really enjoy blogging. winey whiney? Why do I even write this for everyone to read? Shouldn't this be something I keep private?
Wish I had time to do it more often. It's so honest. Well, it can be. It can also be a load of crap, just like anything else. But when I write my blogs, I try to keep it real. It seems like people crave honesty these days. Sometimes I wonder if I'm too honest. *pausing to think about that* You start to wonder what people are thinking when they read your blog posts. Can the readers relate to me? Do they think I'm crazy? Does this post sound

I guess there are two main reasons I write (can you tell I'm in teacher mode? I'd make the kids highlight or underline here...)

1. I write to get it out. Sometimes some of this thoughts swirl around and around and around in my head and drive me CRAZY. If I can get the thoughts out of my own head, I have a better time being able to deal with them.
2. So people don't feel so alone. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. There a saying about how you should be kind to everyone that you meet because everyone is fighting a great battle. Each person is unique and different. Each person has stressors in their life. Example time!

The Infant: "HUNGRY! WAAAAHHHH!"

The Second Grader: "Is *insert best friend name here* going to play with me at recess today? If they don't play with me, who will? Why did they invite all the other kids over for a pool party and not me? I don't want the teacher to call on me to read out loud because I don't know some of those words. I lost my sidewalk chalk today and I can't find it anywhere. I miss the days when I got to stay at home with mom all day."

The Middle Schooler: "The popular kids don't talk to me. They were supposed to say something nice about me in class and they told me I clashed clothes well. I wish I could just fit in. I miss the days when everyone just played together."

The High Schooler: "I'm stressing out ALL the time. My homework is so hard. Why don't I understand it? I don't want to disappoint my parents. I need to get good grades so I get into a good college. But I need to have activities too. I'm just running out of time. I want to spend time with my friends. I'm afraid I'm going to lose my friend to a guy she likes. I know we don't have money, but I'm so sick of eating spaghetti for dinner ALL the time. I miss the days when losing your sidewalk chalk was your biggest problem."

The College Student: "Work, school, social life. I feel like all I do is the first two. No one tells you that once you get into a good school the work is just beginning. Now I worry about how to pay for school, how to pay for food, and getting good grades so I can 'rise above the rest' and get a good internship and get a good job. I miss the days when you went home after practice and there was dinner waiting for you, even if it was spaghetti for the third time this week."

The Single 20 Something: "Everyone is married. Everyone is having kids. Everyone is buying homes. Everyone is paying off their loans. Everyone that is, except for me. Here I am, living paycheck to paycheck. Just trying to stay ahead of the next round of bills. I'm tired of being alone at night. I'm sick of not having anyone to talk to when I go home. I miss the days of college when you lived in the bubble of work and school, all your friends were there all the time because you lived with them, and your biggest problem was which packet of ramen noodles you were going to eat."

The Married 30 Something: "I'm so jealous of all my single friends. They can do whatever they want to, whenever they want to. I love my kids. I love my spouse. But somedays, I just want to eat the last Oreo myself. I don't want to share my popsicle. If I want to vacation in Mexico...I buy a ticket. I miss the days when I just had some alone time."

The Empty Nester: "The kids are gone...what do I do now? How do I fill the time...the void? Sometimes I feel like my spouse is a stranger. We got so caught up in 'life' that we lost ours. I miss the days where the silence and time was filled with laughter and memories instead of reruns on Nick at Night."

Can you find yourself in any of those situations? Are you currently living one of those scenarios? One of the mistakes I think that we make as we get older is that we have the temptation to look at that second grader and think "they don't have it so bad." But at the time, those problems are very real...and very significant. 

But I don't write to focus on the problems. (Problems are the first part...the getting it out part.) I write so we can recognize the problems...but encourage each other to see beyond them. To know that you're not alone. To encourage each other to work through the tough spots and focus on the good things. We can turn every one of those scenarios around to a positive. Don't just stop with the focus on the troubles. Acknowledge them, but instead of letting them define or defeat you, use them as encouragement for yourself and others to continue to press on. Let them become the fuel for your fire. Money will come and go. Things are just things and can be replaced with other things. 

People are irreplaceable, and are what really matter. Be gentle with yourself and others. And when in doubt...

180º

Today was a bad day.

It was one of those days where one bad thing happens...and then another...and then another....until you hit the end of the day and you're either laughing because you honestly can't believe that a day this bad could actually be happening, or you're crying because it all just pushed you over the edge.

Today ended with the latter rather than the former. There were definitely tears...and not much laughter. The final straw came when I stepped on a carpet tack with my bare foot. But allow me to back up and relay the events of my day.

- Woke up feeling like the air had been sucked out of my lungs, coughing like an eight year old chain smoker.
- Cleaning crew at school had moved my students desks and not put them back. Again.
- In the middle of Junior religion the piano and I got into a fight. Piano, 1. Andrea, 0. Nothing like biting it in front of a class of high school Juniors.

- About ten minutes after I took my graceful float through the air I realized my foot was throbbing. Took a quick glance down and saw the top of my foot was growing. By the time I got to elevate it with some ice (almost two hours later), a lovely purple egg had taken up residence in between my ankle and toes. (This might also be a good place to mention that I booked a flight back to Milwaukee yesterday for my half marathon in two weeks...)
- I made it through the majority of my day fairly unscathed. That is, until I tried to go home after school at 5:30pm. Drove gma car across the lot, stopped at the office to mark myself out, came back outside...click. That's all she would do. Click. We tried jumping her. Click. We bought her a new battery. Click. The man who helped me said it was probably the starter. So I drove one of the school's vans home.

I just wanted to go home. I just wanted to go swimming at the pool. I just wanted a night that wasn't filled with work, to feel like a person. I called my friend (whose tire had exploded on the interstate earlier this week) to commiserate in the car woes of gma car (my car) and silver fox (his car). Talked to my mom for a little bit. Stepped on a carpet tack while I was trying to get ice for my still throbbing foot and wash the car grease off my hands from helping with the battery. And then I cried. And my car might not be fixed until next Tuesday. It's Thursday.

Let me try this again.

I woke up.

Someone else emptied the garbages for my classroom last night.
I have a piano in my music room.
My body responded to trauma like it should, with swelling to protect the affected area.
I had ice immediately accessible to me.
I get to go back to Milwaukee in two weeks. For two weekends in a row.
My car broke down at school. Where there were people to help me. And give me a ride to buy a new battery. And help me install it. People who smiled and waved at me after taking the time to help me after they had already coached a football practice.
My principal let me take a school owned vehicle home. So I could get home.
One of my co-workers knows a guy who can work on my car and won't kill me on the cost.
This is really only the second major thing I've had to fix on my car since I've owned it.
I have a car.
I had soap to wash my hands.
I have an ice cube maker in my freezer to make ice for my foot.
I can call my mom up on the phone and talk to her.
I have a friend that will listen to my problems, let me have the breakdown I need to have, and reach down and help me back up again.

One of my Facebook friends (who I've actually only met/hung out with once, but has truly affected my life and the way I look at/think about things) wrote a post today:

Dear Beautiful Struggle,
Im thankful for you. Its because of you that I am humble now. I see things so different now because of you. You have taught me so much. I am a better person who appreciates everything I am blessed with now. You have given me the vision to see past the fake people that smiled in my face while I struggled with you. They laughed they joked as if it was amusing to see someone struggle with you. Its cool though. They are out of my life now. They can see me shine now. No more struggle. No more pain. CHANGE IS GOOD. GOD IS GREAT. Goodbye beautiful struggle. My destiny awaits......






There truly is beauty in our struggles. No, no one wants the struggles. No one wants to go through the hard stuff. They are not easy, pleasant, or comfortable. I don't want to go back and relive this day tomorrow, by any stretch of the imagination. But I'm alive, I have a safe place to live, and I have some incredible people in my life who love and care about me far more than I could ever deserve. If that's not beauty in the midst of struggle, I don't know what is.

One day at a time. Tomorrow's a new day.

Live. Laugh. And most importantly...love.