Out with the Old and In with the New

Hi Everyone! I don’t think I’ve posted since my most recent transition of moving cross country, so for those of you that don’t know, this past July I moved all the way from Memphis, TN to San Jose, CA. I work as the School Operations Manager for a charter network in East San Jose and live in a house with 8 other working professionals (oh my!). Most of you are probably thinking “wtf” at this point and I would be too, but I am genuinely happy with my transition so far. 

In the midst of my transition, I have paid close attention to other people whom cross my path also transitioning and two incidents in particular stick out to me:

A couple of weeks ago my friend Nicole and I decided we wanted to casually go out. We wanted to sip a beer and converse; we weren’t feeling the club scene. So naturally we googled Dive Bars in San Jose and found one close to home that looked perfect called “Patty’s Inn.” Our perception of Patty’s ended up being 100% accurate. It was a small bar that smelt of PBR and smoke with 5-7 regulars shooting the shit with the bartender. We walked in and felt right at home. While at the bar, I met this man who had lived in the Bay Area for five years and was moving to San Diego the next morning (not sure how that drive worked out considering he was out until almost bae close lol). He was telling me how much he appreciated his time in the Bay and also how he was looking forward to his new job in San Diego which is closer to his mom. He said he became close with all of the regulars at Patty’s and was going to genuinely miss the place. I was very intrigued by this mans sentiments because as he was transitioning out, I was transitioning in. He was saying goodbye to a familiar place while I was just being introduced to it.

The other instance pertains to a coworker of mine. She’s the Senior Operations Associate for the network, so her and I worked closely together this summer during my on boarding. She informed me last week that she had accepted a job closer to her residency, as she commutes an hour and a half to work everyday. She explained that she had been contemplating this transition for a while and felt the network was finally at a place where it could handle her absence in lieu of all the other knowledgeable and hardworking employees brought in. She said that although she was sad to leave the organization she served the past five years, she knew it was time to move on and felt very excited and hopeful for the new opportunity she was pursuing. Once again, I noticed that this human being was saying goodbye to the very same thing I was just saying hello to.

Both of these experiences made me feel both strange (I can’t think of a different word to describe my feelings) and comforted. They made me feel comforted because in both the instances the two people had very positive things to say about the two new ventures I am undergoing. They also made me feel strange because it was odd to think that they were leaving what I was just beginning. As I mentioned in my first paragraph, I really like the city of San Jose and overall vibe of California so far, so it’s weird and difficult for me to imagine leaving where I’m currently at as a result of that.

As I reflected and continue to reflect, the two experiences made me aware of the cycle of life and transitions. In order for something “new” to be born, something “old” has to transition. I’ve experienced the “new” and “old” as I’ve now moved twice and held different professional positions; however the experiences have always been separate from one another. These two instances were particularly beautiful because the “new” and “old” were immeshed. I got to see, feel and hear about one cycle ending while a new one was beginning and that was odd, amazing and beautiful.  Life and transitions are odd, amazing and beautiful. 

The Summer Anne Never Worked

I wrote a blog post previously about the notion that people’s circumstances cannot simply be labeled as either a blessing OR a challenge; rather, the circumstances that make up people’s lives include within them BOTH blessings and challenges. Nothing can simply be labeled as one or the other; it’s much more complex and nuanced than that. You can read that full post HERE.

I’ve reflected deeply on this idea as we come to the close of summer. You see, I am currently a single woman with no children. These circumstances, like any other circumstances, certainly come with BOTH their challenges and blessings. I could expand on the diverse ways that I experience both the blessings and the challenges, but I really want to focus on a particular aspect that was highlighted this summer.  

This summer was one of the occasions where I really felt the “blessings” part of my circumstances. I joked to several people that summer 2018 will be forever known as “the summer that Anne never worked.” Or, “the summer that I’m surprised I still have a job.” I say all of this somewhat in jest- I did actually work extremely hard this summer when I was actually at work because I care deeply about grief support- but I did take a LOT of PTO. I just….I had some pretty amazing opportunities come up this summer, and I have a lot of PTO, so….I took a crapload of time off.

Let me list a summary of the past 2.5 months for you:

1)     7 trips to Adventureland (and still more to come!) with numerous friends and family members

2)     Almost a week trip to Memphis, Tennessee with my dad, sister, brother-in-law, niece, and nephew to visit sister Kristen before she moved to California. We also went to Arkansas and Mississippi while we were down there. 

3)     An extended weekend trip to Yankton, South Dakota to visit one of my best friends (and former graduate school roommate), Holly.

4)     A trip to West Branch, Iowa to check out the Herbert Hoover memorial and also to Iowa City to my sister’s ol’ stomping grounds

5)     4^th of July celebrations with family visiting Des Moines

6)     Boating excursion to Lake Red Rock with some coworker friends

7)     Wedding weekend in Omaha, Nebraska with my best friends from high school, RanDee and Sherrill. As a professional chaplain, I officiated RanDee’s wedding.

8)     An extended weekend getaway in Council Bluffs, Iowa. My college girlfriends and I rented a house on Lake Manawa and had a fabulous time boating, swimming, and drinking plenty of coffee and wine.

9)     A week and a half vacation to celebrate my dad’s 70^th birthday. This vacation was absolutely incredible and took us to South Dakota, Wyoming, Montana, and Idaho. I can’t believe how many amazing sights we saw- check out some of my Facebook pictures.

10)  We aren’t entirely sure yet, but there is a possibility that we are going to go visit my brother-in-law in Atlanta, Georgia over Labor Day weekend. He is living there for a couple of months to train for his position with the National Guard.

PHEW. I’ve been in 8 different states so far this summer. I’ve seen friends from high school, college, graduate school, and my current career. I’ve been with every single member of my family (on multiple occasions). And all of this isn’t even counting the “small” social outings I’ve had this summer with bike rides, patio dinners, movies, aerial shows, swimming pools, etc.

It’s been…an amazing summer, and I feel so incredibly blessed. And I know that there is no way that I could have pulled everything off this summer if my life circumstances were different. If I didn’t make a professional wage...if I had small children in my home…if I didn’t invest the time and energy to maintain all of these relationships that are important to me…if I wasn’t blessed to have a job where I have great PTO…etc. If any one of those was different, I would have been able to perhaps do a couple of items on that list, but certainly not all of them, and not with the intensity I had of being fully present for each of them.

And it’s not simply that I was able to do a great NUMBER of things this summer (let’s not value quantity for the sake of numbers.) It’s that I was able to experience the RICHNESS of so many people and places. I loved being able to visit Holly and connect on a level where Holly said that her 1.5 year old son, Garrett, had “made a new lifetime friend.” I loved being the person that stated the lifetime commitment and vows that my best friend and her husband made to each other as I married them. I loved seeing where my father was stationed in Idaho when he was a part of the hot shot firefighting crew 50 years ago. I loved reflecting with my college friends on where life has taken us since we all lived together in college. I can’t tell you how much these experiences mean to me, and how grateful I am that I was able to deeply embrace and share these portentous moments with others.

I wouldn’t have been able to have this number of experiences this summer, or embrace them as deeply, if any of my life circumstances were different. Now, again, I want to reiterate that I’m not saying that there is any type of life circumstances that are “better” or “more blessed” than any other. If, for example, I was presently married with children, I would be experiencing a different TYPE of blessing. And that blessing would still be incredibly rich, and yet not better or worse, than the ones I had this summer.

But I’m not presently married, and I do not have children. And one of the blessings of this present circumstance was that I was able to be fully present with many people that I cared about, and I was able to deeply share in experiencing the sacredness of our lives and time together.

And for that, I do feel #blessed.

I Got 99 Problems But My Age Ain’t One

Well, folks, here I am coming in hot as usual. It’s Friday night and I just got the kids in bed a good hour past their stated bedtime. The whole day started off a bit off because I have been having trouble getting up on time and today was no different. My eyes opened and went back to sleep after my alarm went off. I eventually got up about 30 minutes later than I had planned. Normally, during the summer, it’s not such a big deal because no one is tardy if we are a bit late. However, today was a big day for the kids because their summer program was scheduled to take them to Adventureland today. Even though Trevor and Brooklyn attend different locations for the summer, it is the same overarching program and all the different grades go to Adventureland on the same day, which incidentally was this 
morning.

I was positive the bus was not leaving the kids’ respective summer sites until 9:30 a.m. but my argumentative ten-year-old protested it was 8:30 a.m. I didn’t take him seriously because, well, he argues about everything right now. Here is an example. Trevor (to my near five-year-old Brooklyn): “Brooks, what is 5+1?” Brooklyn (guessing): “Um, six, is that right, Mom?” Me: “ Oh wow, honey, that is right!” Brooklyn(excited):  “I can do math!” Trevor (killjoy): “ No, you can’t do math.” Brooklyn: “Yea, I can!” Trevor: “Okay then, what is 229 + 365?” Brooklyn: “I don’t feel like telling you.” Trevor (beating a dead horse): “It’s because you don’t know the answer. See, you can’t do math.” Brooklyn (getting angry now): “Yes, I can!” Trevor: “Okay, what is 457+ 193?” And it goes on and on like that for as long as I let it. So you see, I didn’t think anything when Trevor started to argue with me about the time. It’s just what he does right now. Anyway, I got tired of hearing it and so I told him I would look on the schedule. Of course, as I uttered those words I recalled throwing it away the night before because there was NO WAY I would mess up the Adventureland trip. However, I still wanted to prove my correctness to my arguing son, so I sifted through my old emails so I could find the electronic version of the schedule. Meanwhile, time is ticking by but I’m not worried. I have until 9:30 a.m. so I’m cool as a cucumber as the pdf starts to pull up. As my eyes focus on the date, I do a double take. Written in bold face is the departure time and it reads 8:30 a.m. So much for the mom victory today. #parentfailone. Trying to keep as calm as I can be, because these kids can sense fear like it’s their job, I admit to my kids I was wrong and let them know the buses will be leaving at the time Trevor said.  As I’m talking, I try to give a nonchalant glance at the clock, which reads 8:03 a.m. 

DEFCON 2 procedures are required if my kids are going to make the bus in time. Breakfast is thrown together-thank goodness for Eggo Waffles,- pajamas are thrown off and replaced with whatever was on top of the drawer, teeth are brushed for less than the standard two minutes (#parentfailtwo), and I forego wearing any makeup to save time. I hurry the kids out to the car with my hands full of hats, sunscreen, water bottles, and refillable slushy cups for the park.  As we are driving I locate the kids’ season passes in my purse, pull out the treat money I thankfully had the foresight to get earlier in the week and had my victorious 10-year-old put the items in a separate plastic baggie for each child to take along.  I seriously contemplate passing the wood chipper truck that I end up behind and literally did not go faster than 10 mph but then wisely reconsidered. The fact the idea even ran through my head, however, exemplifies my desperation. 

I dropped off Brooklyn first and asked her to walk fast, which apparently had the effect of making her walk even slower because it caused her to pause so she could lament to me that she could not walk fast and I knew it so why did I ask her to do that anyway? #parentfailthree. When we finally get inside, I sign her in for the day but the staff flags me down on my way out because I need to sign for the purple shirt Brooklyn is receiving to wear to Adventureland. I sign my name like I’m a physician, meaning no one would ever be able to prove it was me who signed for the shirt anyway, and ask the staff if they can help my daughter change her shirt because I have five minutes to get my son to his summer program location #parentfailfour. They agree, which is good, since I already have one foot out the door and I sprint back to my car, which I’m sure looked supremely cool, calm and collected. So much for hiding my stress, it’s written all over my face at this point #parentfailfive.  Back in the car, the 10-year-old senses my anxiety and drums up a fresh batch of tears because I took too long. At this point, I half-heartedly try to reassure him, but my cover has been blown so it falls on deaf ears. 

After we hit every red light possible, I’m starting to sweat bullets that we aren’t going to make it. My son’s prophecy that we are going to be late is repeating inside my head, oh wait, never mind, that is actually him saying it over and over in the car. We pull in to my son’s location at 8:33 a.m.  I rip off my seat belt, jump out of the car, make sure Trevor has his stuff, and burst inside. The minute I have eye contact with one of the staff I yell frantically across the hall, “Are we too late?” This was apparently embarrassing to my son, who gave me a look that was a cross between mortification and disgust #parentfailsix.  Fortunately, the staff person responds that we are still okay. I find myself doing a fist pump like I just won a championship cage fight. The staff did not appear to be as impressed with my ability to get my son to his summer program three minutes late and seemed confused by my exuberance #parentfailseven.  I strut back to my car and one of the other parents is walking in after me. Poor chap, he must have had a worse morning than me! 

With disaster narrowly averted, I decide I need Starbucks given the fact my adrenaline is still surging from escalating to DEFCON 2. As I’m ordering, I decide to throw a spinach wrap on my tab, as I didn’t have time to eat breakfast. The person in front of me pays for my items, so I say I will get the next person’s even though I’m not in the mood to pay it forward. I think I was probably the grumpiest person that ever paid it forward in the drive-thru. The barista even asked me if I was sure, so I must have looked and sounded less than enthused. Regardless, I did the honorable thing. The way this day was going, I could just picture being on the news as the woman who broke the longest consecutive chain of paying it forward and that was the last thing I needed at the moment. A few minutes later, with a spinach wrap in one hand and a venti mocha with coconut milk in the other, I march into work wearing no make up. 

Whew. Writing that was exhausting. This is how life has been since John left for Warrant Officer Basic. I can’t any quite seem to get things running smoothly in our home. I’m always a minimum of 15 minutes behind schedule. If I go somewhere, even somewhere important, packing entails frantically throwing things in a suitcase and praying I can buy whatever I forgot. I have a vague understanding of what I need to do just one day in advance and even that I manage to jack up and get schooled by a ten-year-old. But you know what, it may not be pretty, but like this morning, we are making it work somehow. It’s what we do when one of us has to leave. Embrace the suck, as the Army would say. 

So yeah, I’ve got 99 problems and then some, but you know what? My age ain’t one of them. For those of you who went to High School with me, you know this is the year we are all turning 4-Gulp-0. Oh, sure, it was hil-larious when everyone else had their birthday before me, but when May rolled around and it was my turn, it didn’t seem so funny. Karma, baby. I had some coming to me. At any rate, I didn’t want to leave my thirties. My thirties were so good to me. They brought me 2 beautiful children, 7 marathons, 1 nephew, and a Masters Degree. They brought me to Afghanistan, St. John, Memphis, Chicago, Disney World, Boston, Hawaii, the Bahamas, Jamaica and Grand Cayman. Oh, and they gave the Cubs a World Series W! As I was pondering my 30s, and simultaneously looking down the barrel of the next decade, I became more unnerved than I would like to admit.  

So like the pensive cuss I am, I kept thinking over the next day or so. And, I realized that my 30s had some truly rough patches, too. Trying to be a normal person after spending a year in Afghanistan; three or four major bouts of depression that nearly got the best of me; two miscarriages; career struggles; numerous mistakes as a parent, spouse, sister, daughter and friend; money lost buying and selling homes every time we moved; some complications from surgery, and a couple of mistakes so big, so devastating that I can’t even type the words to you all. So it wasn’t all rosy, by any means. But, I noticed that no matter what, I kept moving forward through it all, opening up new doors and trying new things. Searching for passion, meaning and belonging, where ever a few little sparks or ideas led me. And that’s what made my 30s great or at least caused me to remember them that way. The bad stuff, well, it most definitely happened but I didn’t get stuck, at least not permanently. As a result, the trials I endured were contained, buttressed by, well, a passion for living I didn’t realize I ever had. Turning 40 wasn’t going to change that about me, so what was the big deal? In the end, I decided my 30s had prepared me for most of what my 40s would throw at me. There would be unexpected trials and tribulations in the next decade. I still feared the visits by Grief and Loss and I truly did not want my long time companion, Depression, to come stay again. But that being said, I began to feel confidence that my 30s had made me strong enough to withstand my 40s, whatever they would bring. 

So guess what? 40 came and went and I didn’t feel somber, I felt strong and motivated. Unpleasant things will most assuredly happen in this decade and Lord knows it won’t look perfect because I have already made some pretty significant mistakes. But like this morning, I will keep moving forward, even on those days I careen into a parking lot three minutes late, begrudgingly pay it forward in the Starbucks drive-through and show up to work with no make up on.  Hey, this is 40, and so far, I love it!

The Other Side

So, recently I watched The Greatest Showman (Yes, I understand it’s a controversial movie with the delicate history of the circus, but I am not here to discuss that), and I just want to say that the theme and music in it gave me so much LIFE.

One of the main themes within the movie was “Risk;” Risking tangible elements (money, personal belongings, etc.) and risking intangible elements (love, reputation, career, fame, etc.) In the movie, the main character, Barnum, basically puts everything he owns (which isn’t much) on the line to create (what we know as the circus) a show full of laughter, imagination, and excitement- the world’s greatest show. As Barnum’s show grows and gains more attention and publicity, he decides he wants to expand the interest to a wealthier crowd. Barnum decides to target a young, wealthy man named Bailey, who invests much of his time in the fine arts.

As you can imagine, convincing a rich man to run away and join the circus wasn’t an easy feat. Barnum takes Bailey out for a couple of drinks and makes the circus sound more appealing than you or I ever could through song. If you would like to see their performance, called “The Other Side,” please click here. This song is one of the many scenes in the movie that gave me so much LIFE, not because it’s catchy and Zac Efron is sexy as hell performing, but because the message of it is authentic.

And I can cut you free
Out of the drudgery and walls you keep in
So trade that typical for something colorful
And if it's crazy, live a little crazy

But you would finally live a little, finally laugh a little
Just let me give you the freedom to dream 

I think the message of this song goes a little deeper than just encouraging someone to join the circus. Recently, I was told by someone that I was “too childish.” I don’t even remember what I was doing, but in my head it wasn’t even anything outrageous, and if any of you know me, you do know that I can be pretty outrageous sometimes lol. Being called “too childish” didn’t offend me because I am okay with being “childish.” I enjoy being silly, playing games, using my imagination and engaging in activities that an “adult” wouldn’t partake in because that’s what keeps me young. To be honest, the person’s comment actually made me feel sorry for them because I think that it came from a place of personal unhappiness.

All too often I think we paint a picture of what our lives should look like and we label certain activities or phases as being a part of only our youth. I think in doing this we create the “walls we keep in.” We reach a certain age or period of our lives where it’s no longer kosher to speak in silly voices, jump on a giant pillow at the pumpkin patch or run around excitedly because we’re afraid of looking foolish. By repressing those "childish" urges, we in turn limit our own happiness.

My mom has always told me I am a big kid and says I should never lose my ability to be a child because it’s this ability that will keep me laughing, smiling and running when I am 80 years old. Age is only a number and it’s our energy and passion that truly defines how “old” we are. No age, career or period in your life has to look a certain way and if you feel opposing, perhaps you may be one of the many kept inside the walls.

Life is short. Take risks. Jump at the trampoline park, sing really loud, play ninja at the park and watch a cartoon, regardless of what or how you or anyone else thinks your life should look, sound or feel at the time. Come join me on “The Other Side.”

Don't Use Others' Stories to Count Your Blessings

I wrote the following for a hospice publication a couple of months ago. The reference is slightly dated (The Festival of Trees and Lights happened in November), but the message I want to convey in this publication is enduring, so I wanted to include it on the Dissident Daughters blog. We simply CANNOT and SHOULD NOT use other people's "misfortune" to account for our own #blessings. It does not matter what the other life circumstance is that we are referencing; other people should not be the means by which acknowledge our gratitude.

I was at the "Festival of Trees and Lights" this past weekend with my family. As we walked among the trees and admired their decorations, I heard someone say, "Oh my goodness. What a sad story about this little boy. This makes me so grateful that I get to still have my son."

I always cringe when I hear these types of statements. You see, on the one hand, I DO think that it's a beneficial practice to name our blessings and feel gratitude in our lives. However, on the other hand, I don't think that we should use the experience and circumstances of other people to do so. It implies that the other person is "less blessed" than us, and it suggests that our own circumstances have been given more grace than other people's.

Not only are we using other people's "misfortune" as a means of naming our own appreciation, but I also think that it's patently untrue that stories of loss, sadness, or a "lack" of something do not have their own rich blessings embedded within them. I do not know the little boy and his family that the woman was referencing. Nevertheless, it's entirely possible that they have experienced a type of love from their community that the rest of us will never experience, and that is a #blessing that we do not currently have and may NEVER possess. ALL experiences are filled with BOTH challenges and blessings, and we cannot self-determine that anyone's context- ourselves or others- fits neatly only with one category or the other.

Instead, I encourage a deeper type of reflection regarding gratitude. Certainly acknowledge the people, circumstances, and other events that fill you with appreciation. And along with that appreciation, display candidness about the way that these same people, circumstances, and other events provide challenges within that blessing. Moreover, also acknowledge that every human being is given different blessings. We do not have the opportunity to experience every type of fortuitous moment or circumstance in this life, and that is because we have limits as human beings. Your life has its own blessings and challenges all rolled together in a unique combination. Name those blessings and challenges in your life, and also remember that other people have their own rich story of blessings and challenges that are different (but not better or worse) than our own. 

Things That Matter

We spend so much of our time, money, energy, worries, and desires on things that do not matter in life. Lately I have been consciously trying to slow down and spend mine on things that do. For me that means spending slow, quality time with my family. I believe that one way we can work to change the world is by focusing on how we raise our children. I also know that as Ferris Bueller said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it.” I think I mentioned this in a previous blog but one of the first things my new boss at work said to me was, “Molly, you better make time for your baby because one day you’ll wake up and he’ll be 8 years old.”

Two weekends ago over Easter Weekend, I tried really hard to put all of this into practice and wanted to share my experiences on the blog.

On the Friday evening of Easter Weekend, I came home from work and took LJ outside, which is his favorite place to be in the world. We took his Paw Patrol truck and he rode it down to the end of our street. All of the snow had been melting that day and it had also kind of been raining so there was a big puddle on the sidewalk at the end of the street. I knew as soon as I saw it that he was going to go straight for it. I was tired and it was the end of the week so the first thought that crossed my mind was to distract him over to a different area in order to avoid the mess and the aftermath of having to wash his clothes and shoes and throw him in the tub. But I didn’t distract him. I thought about all the literature I’ve read that talks about how healthy it is for kids to explore nature and how much can be learned from just playing with rocks, sticks, and dirt instead of watching a screen and I just watched him as he went in and out of the mud with his Paw Patrol truck for about 20 minutes.

On Saturday afternoon we celebrated Easter with Larry’s family. We arrived to the hosts’ home early and had a couple of hours until the rest of the guests arrived. Larry was helping with the food preparation so I was with LJ. I once again took him outside, his favorite place to be. The house we were at is on kind of a small, gravel road by a pond. There are about 5 other houses on the same small road. We didn’t have any of his typical outdoor toys with us so I was a bit nervous thinking of how I would entertain him. My nerves were quickly quelled after we just started walking on the gravel road. LJ wanted to pick up and examine every.single.rock. He would pick them up, look at me with wide eyes, and say “Rock!” like it was so amazing that there was yet another rock on this gravel road. We very slowly made it to the part of the road that was closest to the pond. I felt surprisingly refreshed from not stressing about entertaining him to simply following his lead on walking and looking at the rocks around him. When we got to the pond, I had a flashback to my childhood when we would go camping or hiking and spend time skipping rocks with my mother. I wanted to share that slow pastime with LJ so I picked up a rock and threw it in the pond (I didn’t skip it because I knew an almost two year old would find a big splash much more amusing). After it splashed in the pond, he looked up at me like it was the most amazing, funny thing he’d seen, and of course, he wanted to do it too. So we spent the next half hour to 45 minutes finding rocks and throwing them in the pond. It was slow, some might say it was boring, but it was relaxing and fun for both him and me.

On Sunday afternoon, LJ woke up from his nap a bit cranky. Again, I had this anxiety of how I was going to keep him entertained until dinner time, bath time, and bedtime. But I remembered my experience from the previous day and took him outside. He played outside for over two hours straight and did not fuss once. And the best part was, most of it was spent without any guided play or entertainment on my part. In the past I would feel like I had to constantly be either showing him cool stuff or talking to him, but I didn’t feel like that anymore. I really just followed his lead and realized that kids don’t need someone constantly entertaining them. Unlike most adults, they haven’t lost the ability to be amused by exploring and learning and they haven’t had their attention hijacked from the constant “rewards” most of us get from television, video games, the internet, etc.

I’m certainly not perfect. My life is overscheduled and I often lose sight of everything I mentioned above. But I’m cognizant and I’m trying. And most importantly, I am ever so aware of how much our children can teach us if we just listen to them and follow their lead.

Project: Jill

I have put off writing this blog because I have struggled with three things. First, I’m not entirely sure how to explain something I decided to do; second, because I am afraid of what people might think, including even my dearest sisters and friends; and third, I might fail and if I announce my intentions, that means others might know I have failed as well. Like most people, I despise failure when just I know about it but I seriously abhor public failure.  

I guess I need to just get it over with-to rip off the proverbial band aid quickly, instead of painstakingly pulling it off section by section. So here goes. I am competing for Mrs. Iowa 2018. There. It’s not a secret anymore. Whew. Now for the second hardest part. Why in the world am I doing this?

This is a piece of my decision I have struggled to put into words adequately because I don’t want to be judged. I understand some may think competing in a pageant would be anathema to me and I initially thought the same thing. I guess I need to go back to 2017 to fully explain how I got here. 2017 was a difficult year for me and I didn’t take very good care of myself. The end result was 2017 culminated in a horrible storm of personal and public failure.  It’s all fine now, I got through it and came out on the other end better and stronger as a result. But 2017 had forever changed the way I viewed myself and my life. I decided I wanted 2018 to be the year I worked on myself. And that’s how it all started. A pageant really encourages you to become the best version of yourself. I have learned so much about myself, about celebrating my womanhood and getting my fun side back. You see, ever since I got back from Afghanistan in 2011, that fun-loving girl has been largely absent from my life. I don’t know why, but I’m just a bit too darn serious like all of the flipping time. Getting involved in pageantry has helped me find my whimsical side. Don’t worry, it is still fleeting and I haven’t turned into a fairy princess but at least I know that fun part of myself is still there. I just need to keep in working to find her. I will also say that the scoring of a pageant is weighted 50% on the interview so it is definitely not just a looks-based institution as I originally and mistakenly had thought. 

I also decided I was tired of being afraid of failure, a decision I might regret at this immediate moment but one that I stand by all the same. So I wanted to do something that I really stood a chance at failing at because I had learned from 2017 that failure is a ridiculously amazing teacher. And I’m tired of being afraid it gosh darn it. So I wanted to take it head on, in an in-your-face sort of way. And pageantry is definitely something I might fail at. As those of you know me will recognize, I have not always been in touch with my feminine side. I don’t know make up or hair and rarely wear dresses. I like typical “boy” activities and always have. But I am a woman and I wanted to celebrate that. I’m tired of hiding it or quelling it or muting it under certain circumstances. I don’t think that helps women in general. So anyway, I have been learning how to embrace my feminist, which I didn’t think I had a drop of to begin with but I’m finding I actually like learning these new things and taking better care of my whole person. In some ways, I am healing old wounds by embracing this side of myself.  I also wanted to push myself outside of my comfort zone, and believe me, I’m there. Dress shopping, shoe shopping are completely outside my wheelhouse. But it means I’m growing. And I’m taking chances and that, is living. 

And finally, I felt called to do more to promote and advance veterans issues, and in particular female veterans issues. I wanted a forum, a chance to speak to civilians about changing their perception of what a veteran is. You see, the civilian-military divide is growing into a chasm. Only 0.4 % of Americans serve in active duty. If you include reservists, it rises by a mere 0.4% to around 0.8%. This statistic is staggering and it means that some civilians have no ties to someone serving in the military. This divide enables harmful stereotypes about veterans to persist. So what are civilians to do? As a society, we have tacitly accepted that if service men and women are thanked for our service, the civilian obligation has been satisfied. I’m not that easy of a sell and believe civilians need to do more, to get some skin in the game so to speak, by actually supporting a veterans organization instead of uttering words that arent fully or adequately understood when they are uttered. We must do more. So I wanted to set the example and started volunteering at the VA hospital once a week. I also partner with Soldiers Angels and sponsor deployed service women and have participated in online baby showers for active duty mothers. I have also raised money for warm Socks for warriors-we raised $230 together!! Finally, I worked with my son’s school to send valentines to soldiers overseas. These are all ways civilians and service members a like can get some skin in the game that will have much more of an impact on service members than simply thanking them for their service. Don’t get me wrong, we appreciate the thanks. But the obligation to support our military men and women should not stop there. So that became my platform for Mrs. Iowa. I wanted my voice to be heard and I wanted to do more to bring awareness to this issue. 

So that is the long story of how I found myself competing for Mrs. Iowa. The pageant is June 23 and if I fail, all of you will now know it and that’s ok. I have learned so much about myself by putting myself out there that it doesn’t really matter if I win or lose. I am also thinking of starting a Pageant 101 blog because I know so many amazing women who could compete in their states but maybe didn’t know a Mrs. Pageant existed or don’t know where to start. More to come on that. 

To wrap this up, I will say it has been a little expensive to go from zero to sixty in the pageantry world. There are registration fees, photography fees, accommodation and travel expenses, and costuming fees. I have no shoes or earrings or really anything a girl needs for a pageant and so I have had to buy it all. If you felt compelled to support this journey for me and my family, I have created a go fund me site to help defray the costs of some of these expenses. I know it’s my decision and I have brought this in myself so please know I don’t expect anything or deserve your support. But if for whatever reason you want to support this atypical female competing in a world where I could very well be out of my league but feel compelled to push myself to show the world what types of women are out there, please know any contributions are greatly appreciated. It shows support for what I am trying to accomplish and belief in my journey and that is so much better than words. Thank you for not judging me and for coming with me in this journey that could result in public failure. Let’s embrace it and enjoy the ride! https://www.gofundme.com/yebjb-mrs-iowa-america-2018

Here is the link for my go fund me page:

https://www.gofundme.com/yebjb-mrs-iowa-america-2018