Hair Talk: I Don't Like It When...

...People tell me how they like me to wear my hair. I feel apprehension every time I change my hair. When I put braids in, when I take braids out, when I shave my hair, when I put braids back in when it's just long enough to do so post-shave. 

I always feel apprehension and anxiety. 

It's not cool if you're wearing your hair in a cute little puff and an aunt tells you she prefers when you have it twisted. It's not alright when you cut your hair really short and your mother repeatedly tells you how much better she likes it that way than when you had it in braids. It's not OK when your close friend tells you she's sad that you've decided to wear braids again because you look so mature with your short hair. 

I enjoy compliments, yes, but not when they, explicitly or implicitly, put down something else about me. 

When I wear braids, and you like them, tell me that you like them and leave it at that. Don't say anything about missing my shaved head. When I shave my head and you like it, leave it at that, don't say anything about how you like it so much more than my braids. When I wear box braids and you like them, say so and leave it at that. Don't say how you like them so much more than my twists, and vice versa.  

I hate that apprehension about people noticing and commenting on my hair actually affects/inhibits/influences how I choose to wear my hair. The final choice is always mine, of course, and people always end up liking what I do regardless, but I resent the feelings I go through before I make the choice, feelings that are largely a  result of people's past comments on and "observations" of my hair.

Anyway....I can do more to take back the power and just say 'fuck you, I don't give a damn how you like my hair, I'm going to do what I want and do it well and you're just going to deal with it,' and to fully embody that sentiment...and I'm going to actively try to do that.

I just had to share these feelings first.

December 2013

February 2011

March 2013

Mama, Daddy

I take my mother's love for granted a lot. And sometimes after talking to her, I'm struck by how much her love keeps me here. Here, in the present, in a bearable way. I spoke with my mother this evening, about an hour ago, and I'm still reeling a bit from how wonderful and important and necessary it is to know that I have her and she loves me. My mother loves me no matter what. And she loves me not because I have anything to give or offer her but because I am her child. I am her sweetheart, her baby to who she gave birth and who she's cared intensely for ever after. My mother has loved me everyday of my life. My mother has thought of me and been concerned about me every day of my life. I have been my mother's priority every day of my life.

I'm overwhelmed.

Before I got off the phone with her this evening she said "Anything else you want to tell me?" I said, no. She said, "Ok, just checking. Sometimes you say things and in your voice, it sounds like there's something else you want to say but don't. And I want to remind you that there's nothing you have to hold back, nothing you have to hide." I said, I know. We exchanged "I love yous" and said good night. And then I just sat there and thought about how good that simple conversation made me feel. And I thought "I can do anything because that woman loves me. Everything is going to be ok because my mother loves me." And I cried. Then I thought about my dad and how much he's been showing love to me lately in ways that he hasn't before. And then I thought about God and how he gave me parents (or gave me to parents) who show me how God loves me. I've been praying a lot lately for an experience of God's love and power and this unplanned meditation was an answer to that prayer

These past couple of months have been trying. And my parents have given me invaluable support in the form of, encouragement, sympathy, concern, money (woot!). I've just received. In my extreme vulnerability they've been strong for me and present for me without expecting or wanting anything in return.

[My] Parents are invaluable. 

Full Circle at the GCN Conference

This January felt incredibly significant (and I think the next few January's will feel this way also). I can't believe this past year with Hannah flew by like it did and that we're here facing another year together. This reality became especially poignant to me when Hannah and I attended a day of the Gay Christian Network (GCN) conference which was hosted in Chicago this January. While telling the story of our relationship to a woman we met at the conference, I realized that Hannah and I had come full circle.

Each week of January 2013 was distinct. During the first one, Hannah and I became more intentional about expressing our attraction to one another. During the second, we began dating but soon both felt that something was awry. You see, I had a plan for how I was going to proceed with the exploration of my sexuality. I was frustrated with the guidance I'd received from my friends, family, and church community for the past four years and with my own  prayerful efforts to be "straight." They'd failed to end  my attraction to women or help me deal with my attractions in any useful way and more so damaged my sense of worthiness as a child of God and, therefore, my sense of self in general. So, I wanted to try something different: meet a woman, have fun with no reservations, and see how things worked out. Hannah obstructed this plan almost immediately. 

Hannah has a way of bypassing frivolity and getting to the core of a person when she senses the need to and from our first date she was too deep, too serious, and too intense for my plan to take effect. She was also overwhelmingly charismatic, funny, and pleasantly weird, but her serious intensity always simmered right below the surface, ready to pour out at any moment. I was simultaneously turned off and intrigued by her desire to discuss the troubles in my relationship with Jesus on our first date, and  by the way she picked up on a few of my [non-gay related] struggles, without me sharing a word about them, on our second date. I didn't want  her to see into my soul; I wanted her to make out with me. But I liked her too much to just dismiss her because of the discomfort her seriousness made me feel.

At the end of that second week in January, we had a conversation about our mutual uneasiness with the way our dating relationship was developing. I told her I couldn't handle the woman I wanted to date trying to be my counselor, and she told me she couldn't operate at surface level with me.  In the span of ten minutes we went from talking about taking everything more slowly to talking about not proceeding in a romantic way at all. And it  blew me. I'd been obsessed with this woman  for over a month--she was beautiful and perfectly dykey, goofy, intelligent, and incredibly strange and unique, while still maintaining an aura of "cool." And she was a Christian-- I eventually hoped to learn from her how to follow Jesus without shutting down my sexuality. She seemed to be actively pursuing God and I was curious about how she was managing that-- although I didn't want to talk too much about it in a way that would prevent us from having all the fun I wanted us to have first.  Our mindsets were different but I wasn't actually prepared to let Hannah go. And when it began to look like I would have to--when she suggested that maybe she wasn't meant to be in my life as a romantic interest--I was sad, disappointed, and confused--even panicked. I didn't want this door to close before it had even fully opened.

I wondered if God had dangled Hannah in front of me and then yanked her away to get my attention. Later that day, however, I began to think that I'd interpreted the conversation too hastily. God wanted my attention, yes, but was he taking Hannah away or was he telling me to not proceed with my careless mindset? I started to believe the latter--maybe the point of that hard conversation hadn't been to completely shut everything down, but, before things went any further, to adjust my thinking about Hannah and the kind of relationship we would have. I think God wanted me to clearly know that I couldn't leave him out of any efforts I was going to make to work out my sexuality. Han and I decided to try to figure it out together during the third week of that January, and we're still immersed in that process.

At her mother's suggestion Hannah and I went to the Gay Christian Network (GCN) Conference on January 11, 2014. The experience was surreal. I've been to many Christian conferences, so the general format and atmosphere were familiar. But to look around and know that I was worshiping God with people who openly shared a sexual identity with me--who, like me, at a  "regular" Christian conference would have been made to feel that something was so wrong and impure in them that they couldn't worship God wholeheartedly--was amazing. We weren't being told (explicitly or implicitly) that we had to change part of our identity to be acceptable, to even ascend to the same level as sinner as a straight person. We were being told that we belonged to Christ because we chose Christ and Christ chose us and that he called us to worship him and be in a relationship with him as we were.

It was also great to meet other women in same sex relationships, and hear their stories, particularly about how they reconciled their strong faith with the outworking of their sexuality. As Hannah and I told our story to a woman named Amber, it hit me that this was the day. On the same day last year, the second Saturday in January 2013, we'd had a pivotal conversation about our relationship, both hearing from God in different ways, and had spent most of the day (and the start of the fourth week) trying to figure out what we were supposed to do about our relationship and our feelings (me particularly wondering how I would survive going back to the old way of dealing with my sexuality). Now, a year later, here we stood together at a conference with people like us being affirmed in our equal worthiness to follow and worship God. 

Overall, the conference had some issues--mainly scant  POC, queer, and trans representation--and I did not feel completely at home, but the realization that I'd found part of the answer to a question I'd despaired about exactly a year ago, and the fact that I could now look back and see the faithfulness of God and how he'd continuously brought me closer to him through the year, was almost too great and meaningful for me to handle. I wasn't aware of  this growth happening throughout 2013 but the evidence is that in January 2014, my heart was turned to God, my desire was to keep seeking him,  and my goal was to keep walking with him, growing in my knowledge and experience of him. And feeling free to do so as a queer woman.

The majority of people I know, will disagree when I say that God had/ has a good purpose in my being with Hannah. Many think I'm being disobedient to scripture and simply doing what I want and casually believing what makes me happy.  But there isn't and hasn't ever been anything simple or casual about this undertaking and happy is only one of a wide range of emotions I've experienced since last January. I can't deny how God has worked in this relationship--in my heart through this relationship-- and honestly made a path for Han and I to continue to be together.

Hannah and I haven't done our relationship perfectly or always in a God-glorifying way and I'm not convinced of the rightness of it. But I'm also not convicted of its wrongness and I'm certain there's a reason for that, a reason I'm still learning. Overall God's grace and love has so far trumped our mistakes. I'm closer to God and more committed to seeking him than I have been in the last five years and my journey with Han over the past year has a lot to do with that fact. We both have a ways to go and a lot to learn before we're settled in our choices concerning each other, but so far I think we've borne some good fruit together.

Twenty Thirteen Recap and Looking Forward

2013 was busy.  I didn't make enough time during the year to process every meaningful thing that happened and to try to analyze it all now would be too hard. So I won't. But here's a short description of what it was like:

I fell in love.

I survived my first 9-5 job and my year as an AmeriCorps VISTA and moved on to another position in December earning my first full time salary!

I joined Instagram, Tumblr, and LinkedIn.

I dealt with divorce and death at the same time, tasting a kind of grief that felt like too much.

I went to Nashville for the first (second, third, and fourth) time!

I adopted the label "queer."

I became a faithful viewer of DearNaptural85's vlog.

Drama.

I realized that "germophobic grump" is an accurate description of me.

I turned 25.

I shaved my head.

I got a lot better at doing my eyebrows.

I gained a new respect for individuality and human dignity.

I grew distant from my closest  friends.

I came out to my sisters (who didn't already know), my women's group at church, and MY PARENTS.

I shacked up with Hannah.

I ate lots of salads...and tacos. So many tacos.

I went to museums and art openings.

God frequently amazed me with undeserved faithfulness and kindness.

Currently:

Although we're almost two weeks into the new year, I'm just now experiencing the feeling of a new season beginning. January 2013 was extremely significant to me. It was a dramatic month with equal parts hardship and excitement. On this day (the second Sunday in January) last year, I went to a certain church for the first time. I was incredibly sad that day-- filled with turmoil and unsure of how to proceed with my relationship with God or in my friendship/ relationship with Hannah who I'd just began dating some days before. It was a hard church service for me to get through. Today I woke up in a good mood (something that doesn't happen often) excited to go to that same church. We (Hannah and I) got there just as worship was starting and as I stood singing to God, God took my thoughts back to a year ago. I immediately began to cry as I realized that I was unbelievably in a much better place today. In 2013 I hadn't been consistently faithful to God. I struggled a lot, felt anxious and depressed frequently, and was not as loving to people as I knew I should be. I felt distant from God frequently, all aspects of our relationship changed in some way. Still, I never stopped talking to God or turning to God for help, and although I didn't realize it throughout the year in the day by day, God slowly moved me forward--away from that particular place of desperate confusion and sadness.

Last week at church I wrote this down during the sermon: "A new season. That season of tiredness, distance, weariness is over. A new season. Stirring afresh. Amen." A paraphrase of the words the elder giving the sermon had just spoken, and my prayer for myself going into the new year. Today, I felt God telling me that it was time for that new season to begin. I am thankful for God's faithfulness and God's grace and God's love. Grace. God's grace...I see it all over my life as I mentally review the past 365 days. I feel it now as God invites me to love more and to worship more and to do so as a person fully accepted by God.

A New Year:

I have lots of hopes and goals for 2014. I want to be better:  loving more actively, living more presently, hiding less, being more consistent and faithful in seeking God and truth, treating myself well, loving my friends and family well, and working hard. I want to finish the things I start, meet the goals I set, and keep the promises I make to myself and to others.

I want to, read through the Bible, schedule more times for quiet time, meditation, and prayer, be firmly established and active in [Jesus loving] community,eat unprocessed foods 85 % of the time, exercise at least 3 times a week, take a  hip hop dance class, continue to improve my cooking and make-up doing skills, journal frequently, drink less alcohol, read 50 books, act boldly and speak loudly, go to therapy, learn more about and invest in organic/natural beauty products, be more OUT, talk to my immediate family and close friends more often, practice compassion, embrace my 9-5 job as an assigned mission from God, finish my MPH application, have a more consistent and cohesive online presence, live on a budget below my means, train for and run a half marathon, and y'know, other things :).

We'll see how it all goes!

Optimistic Reflection

Since December 2012--the month I began my first full time 9 to 5 job and the month I met Hannah--my life has felt like a go-go-go non-stop ordeal. I've cycled through many ups and downs. The downs stand out and seem way more plentiful. I've frequently wrestled with myself and other people; I've done a lot of crying to God.  I've been learning about myself and realizing that I learn about myself when I'm not actively trying to learn about myself. I've been realizing that I am so different from the person I imagined I would be at this point in my life-- that person was pretty one dimensional in comparison. I've been learning a lot about change and growth and evolution and shifts. Life is strange. God is strange. Life is complex. These are all obvious statements, I know.

I've endured many days where anxiety completely took me over. Some days I would know why I was anxious but most days I wouldn't. I've worked through many days of just feeling low--feeling detached from everything, not able to find lasting pleasure in anything. Sometimes I would feel overwhelming sadness and not be able to picture a time in the future when things would feel OK again. That seems dramatic, I know, but it's a real, scary, hopeless feeling I get at times.

But.

For the past week or so, I've been able to maintain a consistent "good" state of mind. And at moments I've been struck by bits of insight and overtly positive thinking. Here are two of those moments:

Moment 1:  

A couple of days ago I found myself dwelling on this fact-- the majority of the people in my life whom I love and am closest to will probably never wholeheartedly agree with me and the way I live my life. This and the thoughts I had surrounding it troubled me. I shared this feeling with Han and her response was that one day I will be so confident in my life and the truth that a lack of approval from loved ones won't stop me from feeling peace and contentment with my choices. That's not verbatim but I think I captured the essence of what she meant. Her statement reminded me of something important: a lack of approval from loved ones affects me most because it reflects my own doubts and things I haven't settled with yet. So it's true that the more I work things out, the more I'll be at peace with my choices--another's lack of approval can't highlight insecurities and questions that aren't present.

Anyway, some time after that, I began thinking about my friends and family in the light of the reality of their actions and responses to me and this really hit me:

I am incredibly surrounded by love. I don't like to admit that I wrestle with my friends and family not approving of me. On the one hand, wrestling has never meant inaction-- I am sad when I feel like people are uncomfortable with me and my choices but that discomfort never has and never will stop me from making my own choices and living my life as I see fit. Kudos to me. On the other hand, I feel people's feelings towards me deeply and it's hard when those feelings are negative and/or troubled.  But in this moment I realized that the people I love and care for the most, are still right there caring about me and loving me back. No matter if I've disappointed them, made them question my sanity and wisdom, or made them grieve for me. No matter how many side eyes I've inspired or how our opinions differ, they're still there. They still love me and would still rather know what's going on in my life than not. I am so supported just because I am me.

Ultimately, I don't think I really want people to always be comfortable with me and approve of me. I need to be challenged and I appreciate (usually belatedly) when challenges force me to explore things more and be really sure of what I believe. Challenges also make me extra grateful for the One who finds me acceptable and lovable no matter what I do. I think what I truly want is for the people who love me to be willing to wholeheartedly wrestle with the challenges I present in the same ways I wholeheartedly wrestle with the reasons I am challenging.

Moment 2:

At work a couple of days ago, at my desk, while blankly staring at my computer screen (it happens ok?!)  it hit me that I am living in a city thousands of miles away from all of my family and am sustaining my presence here. It hit me that I did the work to get myself here and that I am doing the work to be able to remain here. It hit me that I live in a city I love so much and that I am a working individual supporting my existence in a place that gives me life. I am doing that. Now, I'm not downplaying the fact that God takes the ultimate credit for everything good. No doubt, God wrote the story that's unfolding now. But, I've been an active participant.

I don't give myself credit for very much. I am usually very self deprecating and downplay my accomplishments under the guise of being noble and humble. I'm not truly noble or humble in that way. I'm just so self-negative at times that I believe the lie that my accomplishments are a fluke, no big deal, or can be entirely attributed to anything other than the fact that I'm an intelligent, capable woman. So, in that moment, I took some time to name a few accomplishments and be proud of myself: I came to Chicago, made friends, formed a community, got a Master's degree in a field I actually love, supported myself through babysitting/ nannying, got a 9-5 full time job, and have taken care of myself through it all. I've built my own life; I've done important things; I've been a successful human being. Here's to me. I'm claiming my credit.

So... overall, I think what I really wanted to say is that as crazy and up and down as life over the past 9.5 months has been, I am so grateful for the days when I am filled with optimism and hope about myself and my future--where, good things come to mind in a jolt and then linger. Today I feel good and believe that tomorrow will be good. Today I can think about the people and things in my life with positive, tangible emotions. Today I can stand in the brisk Chicago air in my leggings, turtleneck, and cardigan and be happy about how the very cool wind brings with it many pleasant associations--my first wonderful months in Chicago, fall themed beverages from Starbucks, downtown adventures with Karimy (one of which I had two days ago!), snuggles with my comforter, and crushy-lovey feelings.

During this life season my happy days haven't lingered long enough. It's been hard to remember that I have them--not days where I just feel happy for a moment or have some laughs (I laugh at SOMEthing every day) but days where I feel in my soul that things are really alright and working out for my good. I know all too soon I will have a day where things seem dismal or, worse, feel like absolutely nothing. But today I will focus on the fact that I am happy and optimistic!