A Letter to My Nieces

Last week, I sat by one of my favorite people in the world during church. I'd tell you her name and show you a picture of how beautiful she is, but she's too special. She's my niece. She's going to be in the first grade next year. She loves swimming, candy, dogs, her brothers, and the Hulk.

She also likes her world to be compartmentalized, organized in the way things are “supposed” to be.

Before Church began, she nudged me and initiated a conversation we've had several times over the past year or so.

“Hey, Aunt Nicole.”

“Yes, Niece?”

“Are you married yet?”

“No, Niece.”

“Oh.... Did you find your husband, though?”

“No, Niece, I haven't.”

“Oh.... Maybe you should do that.”

“All right, Niece. I'll do that for you.”

Now, this isn't the first time we've gone through those motions, and I suspect it won't be the last. I know, because I used to be a lot like that. Trying to make sense of the world through the scope of an optimistic wannabe Disney princess. That's why I don't hold any animosity towards such an honest conversationalist. However, I would hope that my niece—all of my nieces, in fact—won't be met with terrible disappointment in the case that all their dreams don't come true in the ways they want.

So, nieces, here's a letter from me to you—maybe something you'll read when you're older. Just in case you're meant to learn some of the lessons that I've had to learn.

Here goes:

Dear Niece,

I hope you know how much I love you. You are amazing. I'm fairly certain the sun only wakes up every morning just so it can shine on you. You are everything to this family, and you are everything to me. I would never trade places with another person, because I would never give up the job of being your Auntie.

So, Niece, I'm a little further along this road of life than you. That doesn't mean I'm smarter or better, it just means I've maybe encountered a few things that you haven't yet. Just in case you do, I want you to remember these few things:

• There's no such thing as “supposed to be.” I was supposed to have done a lot of things by now. I'm supposed to be a world-renowned archaeologist. Or, at the very least, I'm supposed to have a show on the Travel Channel that pays for expensive vacations. (Thanks a lot, Samantha Brown for giving me unrealistic expectations.) I was also supposed to, believe it or not, be married about five years ago. I'm supposed to be a mom. But, of course, none of that happened, and who's to say that it will? “Supposed to be” doesn't happen very often, and that's OK. Because, as long as we are faithful to ourselves and the promises we make, “supposed to be” will always be replaced with something better than we could have thought up for ourselves. Don't get discouraged if something doesn't happen how, where, or when you expect it to. Keep going, be flexible, especially if your “happily ever after” doesn't include a castle and a prince. And remember that it takes a little pressure to make a diamond.
• Never wait to be rescued. Sometimes when things don't work out the way we want, it's easy to want to give up. It's easy to wish for someone else to save us from our problems or our bad feelings. I've felt that way too. Remember, though, that help might not come. But don't panic. You are a part of my family, so I know you were born strong. You have it in you to reach deeply, dig in your heels, and face your sorrows head-on. Don't ever wait around for someone else. Keep moving, keep living, and keep helping others as you do. Your life won't wait for you to live it, so don't you wait to live your life. Don't wait for happy to happen, because it's not a destination. Be happy along the journey, and you'll have no need of rescuing at all.
• Learn what you love. Do what you love. Of course, you'll need to make sure you make time for the good things in life. Keep everything in balance as best as you can. Find out what you enjoy doing, even if it's something strange or scary. (But, please, be safe about it.) Don't base your talents and hobbies off of what others think is cool. Make up your own mind about what's “cool” and what isn't. Use those talents and hobbies to make your life better. Use them to make others' lives better too. Learn how to work—hopefully using some of those skills you enjoy. Turn your passions into something positive—love your work. Work hard to earn all those good things you want for yourself. However, also learn when it's time to put work away and relax. Never stop doing those things you love.
• Be a potato, not an egg. Bad things happen to everyone. Everyone. As much as I don't want it for you, you'll have to deal with a lot of heart-ache. There's so much that can happen—and it should—like fighting with a friend, losing a beloved pet, or struggling with an ill-tempered teacher who just won't give you a better grade no matter how hard you try. You'll probably break up with a boyfriend or two. And that's the easy stuff. My advice is this, and it's kind of silly: be a potato. Not an egg. Here's why. When boiled, eggs get hard. Potatoes get soft. Niece, don't get hard. Don't let boiling circumstances make you angry or bitter or blaming. Instead, let them make you soft and humble. Let them make you teachable and kind and and understanding and forgiving. Especially forgiving. While others might call you weak, remember that some of the strongest people are also the most meek.
• Love with all your heart. The problem with loving too much is that it sometimes hurts when that love isn't reciprocated. Love much anyway. And I'm not just talking about a hypothetical prince charming either. I'm talking about anyone and everyone with whom you choose to spend your time. Choose to love them. You don't have to like everyone, but you should try to love them. Don't judge too harshly. (I wish I would've learned that a lot sooner that I did... still working on it.) If you get the chance, serve a mission. Your capacity to love others will grow, and you and they will be blessed for it. Love yourself too. Never look down on yourself. Never think you need to be more beautiful or smarter or funnier or “better” to get someone's attention. You don't have to compete—there's enough love to go around. Let that love start with you and spread.
• Remember that you're a princess and act accordingly. This is the most important part. You are a princess, and not the fairy tale kind. The real kind. You are a daughter of Heavenly Father who created you, loves you, and put you where you are for a reason. Your circumstances may change. They can get better. They can get worse, but—through it all—you need to remember who you are and remember your potential. A princess is inherently confident in her value, and she doesn't need to get others' approval to know that she's special. Keep the commandments. Live as God would have you live, and you'll be happy now, and you'll have your happily ever after too.

And, Niece, never forget that you are always welcome at my house for glow-stick dance parties.

Love you as big as the sky,

Me

Stress Relief (No Alcohol Needed)

School's out! I'm one week into summer already, a week that's gone by in a blur. When I was a kid, summers didn't fade in and out so quickly. It seemed there were countless hours of me staring at the ceiling or the wall or the potato bug (or roly-poly if you prefer) crawling along the sidewalk. Summers were slow and lazy. Not a care in the world.

Nowadays. Slow and lazy? Not a care in the world? That sounds nice. As a grown-up, I've found that there's seldom—if ever—a day where nothing needs doing. I guess the days of “wake up, play video games, eat, play outside, take a nap, and repeat” are done. And just when I think I've got a day to be slow and lazy, I remember that I have to pay the bills and turn in that online assignment and—oh yeah—I still need to go get a loan to buy a new-to-me car. And who could forget that lawn that still hasn't learned to mow itself?... Oh well. Maybe there'll be time for slow and lazy tomorrow. Maybe I'll even sleep in past 7 A.M.!

I bring this up for several reasons. First, life is busy. Life is doing. Life is becoming. Life doesn't pause itself to let us finish our [insert Netflix show] marathons. Life is stressful! It was designed to be that way. (Keep this in mind. We'll be coming back to this idea later.)

Here's the other reason I bring this up: Before work let out for the summer, I had an interesting conversation with a coworker. He knew that I was a Mormon (the more correct term being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints) and he sometimes had questions for me—not so much about doctrine, but about my lifestyle. PS—I would much rather have my friends as me about the Church than do an internet search about it. I appreciate that he would consult with me and not some whack-a-doodle who thinks they know a lot about what I believe.

Anyway—where were we? Oh, right. Several coworkers were going to get together for retirement party and drinks that evening, and he wanted to know if I'd be joining them. I said, “Yes, I'll go to support those who are retiring. But I won't drink.”

He paused, “So, wait. You don't drink?”

I nodded, “I don't drink. Never have. Never will.... Unless cough syrup counts, then I have. I've probably accidentally swallowed SCOPE before too.”

“OK, so why don't you drink?” he asked.

I could have gone into a long discussion about the Word of Wisdom, but I didn't. Instead, I asked another question in return, “Why would I drink alcohol?”

He thought about it and responded, “It's stress relief. If you don't drink, what do you do when you get stressed?”

I had to paused and think about this one. I shrugged and said, “I must not get stressed.”

That's not entirely true, of course. Everyone feels the stress of life at some point. (If not, they aren't living life correctly, and maybe they're on the drugs.) I thought about that a lot over the course of the next couple of weeks. How do I deal with stress when alcohol isn't an option?

One more quick tangent: I'm not saying that drinking alcohol makes someone a bad person, nor am I saying that I'm somehow magically better than everyone who drinks because I choose not to. One thing I hope we understand before I go on is that most Mormons don't secretly judge others who live differently than we do. At the very heart of our doctrine is that people have the right to choose how to live their lives—and accept the consequences. I think people have every right to choose to drink—and accept the consequences which accompany that choice—just as I have the right to choose not to drink.

I choose to deal with my stress in more productive ways than going to the bottle. Even though those slow and lazy days are gone, I still feel rested, composed, in control, and—here's the best part—joyful. Why not choose to live a joyful life, in spite of day to day business? Here's how I deal with my stress:

• What she says: TED talk on stress
• Deal with whatever is causing the stress. Sometimes we have responsibilities which cause us stress. Take taxes, for example. There's no getting around it, so I face the problem head-on. Fine, government. You think you need an entire paycheck of mine? Take it. Don't mind me over here eating Ramen noodles for the next six months. What about that 10-page-paper that's due? Just do it! Maybe even try to learn something in the process. That's the point, isn't it? If a situation shouldn't be avoided, then don't avoid it. Manage it. Control it. Be done with it.
• Enjoy the moment. Of course, stress can come from good things too. A family vacation. Looking forward to going on that date (not that I know what that feels like anymore). The new baby that was born into them family. When I experience these good stressors, I forget about the yesterdays and the tomorrows—I leave work at work. I do my best to sit back and let the moment wash over me. I try to memorize the feelings, to let them crystallize deep inside me. It's like soaking up sunshine but for the soul. Goodness knows I'll need to remember those moments when the bad stress rolls around again.
• Exercise. When I'm feeling especially anxious, I have to exercise. Running. Lifting weights. Punching a pillow. Yoga. Numerous scientific studies back up my thoughts here. Exercise relieves stress. I feel better, and I certainly look better.
• Deep breathing. I'm one of those people who internalizes stress. Sometimes my body is under stress, and I don't even realize it. Every once in a while I'll wake up from a deep sleep with knots in my stomach, heart pounding, and worrisome thoughts whirring around in my head. When this happens, I sit up and take deep breaths. In for 10. Out for 10. In for 15. Out for 15. I remind myself that I am in charge of my emotions—my emotions are not in charge of me. Deep breathing helps me to calm myself immediately.
• Keep it in perspective. When my problems seem too big for me to overcome, I try to remember that those stresses I have now will not be the same stresses I'll have in a week. Or a month. Or a year. Or a decade. Or an eternity. Yeah, that ER bill was a monster, but I doubt I'll be telling the nieces and nephews stories about it years down the road.
• Learn to do something new. Stress is a body's way to prepare for action. To prepare to do something. When I have stress in abundance, I use that spare energy to learn to do things. I learn a new song for the piano, I cook something new, I sew, I decorate, I paint, I landscape, I write a book, I actually try some of those weird make-up and hair tutorials that plague YouTube. Extra stress/energy is a gift, not a curse.
• Good music. I'll leave it up to you, the reader, to decide what “good” music sounds like. Music is awesome in helping to relieve stress.
• Sleep. Eight hours a night! There really is something to that “early to bed, early to rise” stuff. A small nap every now and again is another great way to recharge, reset, and reattempt to solve problems.
• Think of someone else. I've found that the most miserable moments of my life have also been the most selfish moments of my life. By thinking of others, one is able to lay down their own burdens—if only for a moment—and help another to carry theirs. It's like my favorite Hindu proverb: Help thy brother's (or sister's) boat across, and—lo—thine own has reached the shore.”
• Call Mom. I read an article once that examined the stress in teenage girls and further searched to find the best practices for relieving that stress. The results? Talking to their mothers relieved stress more than any other practice. There have been many times when I've called to vent to my mom—making sure that I'm totally calm and collected before I call her. I don't know how she does it, but sometimes all she has to say is, “Hello, I was just thinking about you,” and the floodgates open. I sob uncontrollably, and she's probably left wondering what's going on. It's a natural physical reaction, folks. Sorry, moms, but the need to vent our stress to you is scientifically supported.
• Be still. This is a lost art. How many of us can, honestly, sit and meditate for five minutes? Ten minutes? Twenty minutes? What's the rush? Take time to consider yourself, your circumstances. Take time to be still and be aware. Take time to ponder. Take time to reflect on improvement. Take time to appreciate the beautiful. Be still.
• Pray. This is another lost art, unfortunately. My greatest strength comes through prayer. I pray in the morning, in the evening, and about any other time I feel like it. I pray out loud in private and in my heart in public. Here's why: I believe that God is not some intangible being who happens to overlook the Earth and give us “thou shalts” and “thou shalt nots.” (That's weird and goes against the scientist in me.) I believe God is a Father, a perfect one, who is available to me on a personal level. Just as I can call up my dad in Wyoming, I can “call up” my Heavenly Father. I can share my joys and my struggles. I can ask for help. I can ask for strength. I can ask for perspective or understanding. And, you know what? My prayers are answered. It doesn't always happen the way I want or expect, but it happens. Amidst it all—whether good or bad stress—I find immense stability in recognizing that I am never alone, that I have a Heavenly Father who loves me, guides me, and walks beside me through every challenge.

So, there you have it. How I deal with stress without alcohol.

Priorities, Focus, and... hey, did I start the dish washer yet?

It's almost summer. I can tell by the significant increase in my classroom's decibel levels. Having the kids to remind me every three minutes (not exaggerating) that it's almost summer is also a strong indicator of the coming season.

And there's weeds. And the lawn (that apparently needs to be watered and mowed this year too).

Anyway, back to school. I find that two-thirds of my day is spent playing a game similar to whack-a-mole, but without the mallet: I run from student to student trying to calm them down, get them settled and working, only to find that five others have gotten off task. If there were a “most played” list of the phrases I've used today, they'd probably be: “Time to focus.” “What should you be doing right now?” “I can see that you're [insert kid shenanigans here]. A better choice would be to follow my directions.”

Kids these days. Heaven knows I'll be missing them in a few weeks.

Anyway—let's refocus here.

After work today, I had to make a quick trip to WalMart to buy the ingredients to make some birthday cupcakes. (Which didn't turn out quite as cute and tasty as I was hoping—sorry Sis.) That was it. Cupcake ingredients and then leave. But, wouldn't you know it? WalMart's garden center has really cute flowers. It was really hard not to walk by and at least contemplate which plants I would definitely have to go back and buy—oh—and there's patio furniture that would go great with my soon-to-be-built patio. (But, let's be honest, that furniture is probably going to end up being spray-painted pallets. DIY project. Nailed it.)

Focus. Focus.

All right. So I just needed cupcake ingredients. But then I saw the S'more flavored cotton candy. That's right. S'more flavored cotton candy. It took a couple of minutes of bantering back and forth between my adult self and my inner-child before I got distracted by something else—probably some lady walking around with a chihuahua. WalMart really does have it all.

So I put the cotton candy down (keeping in mind that just because my inner-child is 500 lbs and cavity-ridden doesn't mean I need to be too). I go to check out. And then I check something (erm, someone) else instead—I guess attractive people shop at WalMart too. Who knew? So, I'm walking to the “check-out” line trying to avert my eyes and not look stupid, wondering if he'd consider getting baptized into the Mormon church so that I could—you know—keep him forever and ever. Then, I chastised myself for being creepy. Oh man, I'm such a weirdo. (I don't think he saw me though—deep breath. Crisis avoided.) Just in and out—cupcake ingredients. That's it.

Long story short, turns out that telling my kids to “focus” or constantly asking them what they should be doing are comments I should be making to myself. With so many distractions, it can be hard at times.

It reminds me of playing softball as an itty-bitty thing. Dad was the coach. I wasn't the best player on the team, not by a long shot. But, I do remember a lot of the pointers Dad gave me. Choke up on the bat. Don't throw the bat. What are you doing—I thought I told you not to throw the bat. Don't cover your face with the mitt. Don't catch the ball with your hand—use the mitt. Stop dancing in the dugout, we need you at left field. Keep your eye on the ball.

That's what I want to talk about. Don't get distracted by the fact that someone just threw a ball that could hit you in the face. Don't get distracted by the other team shouting, “Eh, batter, batter, batter, batter. Eh, batter, batter, batter-- Swing!” Don't get distracted by the screaming fans (AKA, Mom). Keep your eye on the ball. The metaphorical ball, that is.

For me, personally, I find it difficult to get distracted by what could be categorized as “bad” things. However, I do find it easy to get distracted by “good” things—like the garden center, S'more flavored cotton candy, and the one attractive person who shopped at WalMart today. Good distractions.

But what should be my focus? I know that all of us have goals. I doubt very many of us wake up in the morning in hopes that we don't accomplish anything ever. (There's a thought for you—if your goal is to remain unaccomplished, and you accomplish that goal, then did you really accomplish your goal of unaccomplishment?... Don't think about it too much. Your head might hurt.)

Recently, I've found that a lot of my distractions come from work. From yard-work. From cleaning up after my butt-face/dog who thinks throwing-up is fun sometimes. (Actually I think he ate something that made him sick. But still.) Distractions from wanting to practice my music, my sewing, my running, my writing. Distractions from Master's credits. Distractions from politics and getting way more worked up over unimportant Facebook posts than I should.

So I've asked myself: What's your goal here? If you could only accomplish one thing today, what would it be?

Well—I've certainly gotten better at prioritizing since asking myself that question on a daily basis. It's helped me to put my priorities where my heart is. And my heart is so much happier when my priorities are aligned with it.

Of course, friends, you probably have already guessed that priority number one is my relationship with God, or my Spiritual health. As tempting as it is to get distracted by Netflix or pruning those lilac bushes, I know that those tasks should only be accomplished after reading my scriptures or praying or, at the very least, taking a moment to reflect on my own progress in following Jesus Christ.

Nurturing family and friend relationships fall in line. As do caring for those who rely on me—including but not limited to the butt-face dog.

Can you imagine how much better life would be for us—even as a society—if all of us took the time to prioritize? To not get distracted by unimportant things? Surely we'd be less interested in standing in line to get the latest [insert super cool gizmo here]--we'd be too busy doing things that matter. Things of substance and lasting importance.

So—ask yourself: If I could only accomplish one thing today, what would it be? And if you're not doing it—start. Don't get distracted. Focus. Keep your eye on the ball. I'll try to do the same.

Assuming I don't run into any S'more flavored cotton candy. Then, I might have a momentary priority shift.

Easter

I've found that I'm more likely to blog when I'm irritated about something. I realize that we live in a world that's already obnoxious in shoving negativity down our throats that it hardly makes sense (well, actually it makes no sense at all) for me to be throwing fuel onto that fire.

But I'm irritated about something, and we need to talk about it. It's an irritation caused by those who are, or at least claim to be, Christian. I include those belonging to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) as Christian, because—quite frankly—we profess that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and Savior of mankind. Last I checked, that's Christianity.

Anyway.

As the snow falls outside, it's hard to believe that Easter is only a week away—and it came later this year, so I was really hoping for that magical “springy-bunnies and chicks frolicking in green fields” Easter this year. Maybe the weather will cooperate next week, but probably not. Not pessimism, just the reality of living in the Rocky Mountains.

My annoyance isn't caused by the weather. It's caused by, well, hypocrisy. At least the weather knows what it is—April always comes accompanied with snow, and it doesn't profess to be anything different. People, though—even and especially Christians—tend to be a different story. Myself included, but I'm trying really, really hard to remedy that.

Truth is, I'm a little fed up, in general, with the way terms and words are used nowadays. Words flow from our mouths, from the television, from the lyrics of our music. Our words are spoken, printed, and digitalized, but I often wonder if those words mean anything. We can say we're Christian, but what does that really mean? Especially during this time of Easter—what should our profession of Christianity during Easter mean? And shouldn't a Christian's celebration of Easter mean a little more to them than it would to a non-Christian celebrating Easter?

You see, we've commercialized our holidays. It doesn't bother me so much on Thanksgiving or Halloween or Independence Day. These are, of course, secular holidays—maybe not in origin, but they certainly are now. Naturally, I'm not going to get all in a tizzy when we treat a secular holiday as a secular invention. If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, talks like a duck, and smells like a duck, it's probably a duck. (Except for the talking part. Ducks don't talk.) PS—Don't forget Mother's Day. It's coming up too.

Then there's Christmas and Easter. I'm not saying Christmas and Easter shouldn't involve Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny. I'm not saying kids shouldn't be introduced to Rudolph or Easter egg hunts. These are traditions which bring families together, which is at the very core of Christian values. What I am saying, is that there are some stark contrasts between the religious celebration of Christmas and Easter and the secular celebrations of Christmas and Easter. What I am saying is that far too many of us “Christians” are Christian by tradition only.

I do not hold any non-Christian people at fault for hypocrisy in Easter or Christmas celebration. I would never expect my Hindu or Muslim or Buddhist friends to revere my religious holidays. If they want to take part and celebrate—cool. But I would, in no way, expect them to worship Christ, which is what the holidays are supposed to be about.

Now, Christians. That's a different story. We do worship Christ. We're supposed to. We do believe that he was born, that He lived a perfect life, that He atoned for our sins, that He rose from the dead. Explanation of “how” aside, we do believe that, don't we? So how is it that going to Church only on Christmas and/or Easter is acceptable? How is it that participating in Lent (ps—I didn't even know what that was until about two years ago) is enough to demonstrate our believe in Jesus Christ? How is listening to a couple of sermons—and then blatantly disavowing those teachings during the rest of the year—revering Christ?

What is more important: 1) buying spiffy Easter outfits to impress everyone at Church? 2) gorging ourselves on Reese's peanut butter eggs (which are, somehow, waaaaay better than the cup kind)? 3) patting ourselves on the back for dutifully attending church twice a year—adherence to actual church doctrine optional? OR 4) living a Christ-like life, observing loyalty to Him, and doing our utmost to keep His commandments all of the time, because we love Him?

Hint: The correct answer is number four. (Number two is a close second, assuming your gall-bladder can handle that kind of abuse..... Yes, I'm still not over that ball-bladder thing either.)

So, yeah. If you're that kind of hypocrite,... you suck.... (Myself included, at times.) The good news, though, is this: Easter happened. I would hope that all of us take the time to read the Biblical account of that event. Of Christ's Atonement. Of His trials before the Jews and then the Romans. Of His crucifixion. Of His Resurrection. Of His invitation to us to follow Him, to repent and receive forgiveness, to find new life and new purpose as we do so. If we've been less than valiant in our adherence to true Christianity, we can change that—rather, He can change that. If we let Him.

I know that we live in a time where I may offend some in saying, but I know that Jesus is the Christ. He is who he said He was. His is not a Gospel of inactivity, but a Gospel where His disciples are commanded to actively and purposefully emulate His teachings everyday, even if it's inconvenient or politically incorrect. I know that as we strive to do as much as we can to follow Him—the Resurrected Lord—we will find peace in this world and everlasting life in the world to come. Because that's what Easter is all about.

Dating Double Standard

I'm at an awkward impasse in my life. It's a situation in which more people find themselves than you'd think. I hate this phase—never have liked it much in the past, and I definitely don't like it much now. You see, I just finished reading a book (Words of Radiance) that has consumed most, if not all, of my free time for the better part of a week. And now I have all this free time that I feel should be spent reading more. But I don't want to start a new book, because that would be like cheating on the old book. And, let's face it, no book is going to be as good as the one I just finished. (They never are.) ANNNND I figure I might as well reread the same book again in case I missed a few words.... Like I said. Awkward impasse.

Yeah. I'm at that inconvenient interval until I decide to either a) start a new hobby, b) read another book, c) read the same book again, d) write a book of my own, e) dress up my dogs in medieval costumes and re-enact important European historical events..... OK, so there are a lot of things I could be doing. But, really, I just want to know if Kaladin and Dalinar are going to be able to reunite the Knights Radiants and save Roshar before the Everstorm destroys everything.... (Feel free to read above mentioned book to understand what I just said.) Blasted series books.

Anyway, now that I'm done with reading, I can write about something that's been mulling over in my mind. It has to do with double standards and –dare I say—hypocrisy. (Which, if you think about it, they're pretty much the same thing.)

I want to talk about the criticism and judgment thrown at those of us who are single by those in our lives who think we should not be. (Sorry—didn't realize our relationship statuses were so burdensome in your day-to-day activities. We'll get on that right away so that you can sleep well at night.)

We've heard it all, my single friends and I: “You just don't want it.” “You're not trying hard enough.” “You need to make yourself more available.” “You need to move someplace where there are more people your age. You're not doing much where you're at anyway.” “You're too picky.”

That's the one I want to talk about. “You're too picky.”

During the course of my teenage years, I heard numerous discourses and attended many Sunday school classes where I was told how great I was. Not just me. All of us—girls in particular. Contrary to popular belief, women in the Mormon religion are actually revered and highly respected. Yep. We're that cool, and all we had to do was be born with two “x” chromosomes.

We were told to set our expectations high, especially when it came to choosing a future companion. Many, many times we were told to make lists, set goals. One list we made included qualities we expected in our future spouses: Upon conclusion of the list, we were advised to develop those same qualities within ourselves—be the person we expected a husband to be. We were told to never settle for anything less. I'm sure my list looked something like this:

1. returned missionary
2. tall
3. super hot
4. no, seriously, super super hot
5. like movie star hot
6. rich
7. funny
8. likes kids
9. good cook
10. athletic
11. musical
12. artistic
13. strong
14. good at shooting guns
15. smart
16. h-o-t

And now—ten years later—I'm being told that I'm too picky. Well, let me tell you, based on the list I made when I was 14, yep. I'm too picky. I would say my list is not only a bit vapid, but it's also a tad unrealistic as far as expectations go. However, my list has changed a bit since then. In many ways, my expectations have been re-routed to the “this would be nice” list, rather than staying put on my “must have” list. Unfortunately, though, my added years of life, experience, and learning have actually raised my bar. Nowadays, the list looks a bit more like this:

1. has a personal relationship with Jesus Christ
2. honors his Priesthood
3. has a desire to be sealed/married in a temple
4. honors me and respects me—will treat me as an equal
5. will put his whole focus into being a worthy father
6. develops his specific skill sets to improve his life and the lives of others
7. is kind
8. is loyal
9. is honorable and courageous in upholding that honor
10. has integrity
11. is not easily tempted
12. is not easily angered
13. is capable of caring for himself and others (financially, emotionally, physically, etc.)
14. is an, overall, happy person
15. sense of humor
16. appreciates my “nerdiness”
17. has passions, goals, and interests
18. isn't just a romantic interest, but a sincere and best friend

etc. etc. etc. (I'm not going to share everything. That's personal.)

Of course, I'm being “too picky” now. If I were 19, my list would be totally acceptable. Not so these days. So, what changed?

Well, there's my age. I got older. As a result, the message I'm getting is this: as a person ages, they deserve less. While ten years ago “not settling” was the expectation, the expectation now is to “settle for what you can get.”

Of course, if it isn't my age that makes me undeserving, then—perhaps—it's that, in others' eyes, I never deserved what I wanted in the first place. And they lied to me when they said, “don't settle.”

So—am I picky? Yes, absolutely, and for all the right reasons. Keep in mind, these expectations aren't only the standard to which I hold a potential “someone,” these are also the expectations to which I hold myself. We've all heard the adage, “You are what you eat.” I'd like to say, “You are who you date.” To lower the expectations, to settle, to become “not so picky,” I would have to lower my own expectations. I would have to settle on the lowest common denominator of myself. I would have to believe that my personal worth has diminished over time, and I continue to lose value everyday.

I don't think that's true for me. I don't think that's true for anyone.

So, if you're worried that your single friend is “too picky,” maybe you should focus your efforts and concerns on building your friend up—giving them hope that they deserve to accomplish their goals, whatever those goals might be.

And for you single friends who are still playing the field—even though everyone expected you to be “retired” by now—keep on keeping on. Keep growing, and don't lose hope. Expectations shouldn't have expiration dates, especially when it comes to the important things.

True Love

I know I already posted about Valentine's Day, but-- hey-- I'm waiting to hear back about whether or not a HIDA scan has been scheduled, so... "free" time.  As I spend this afternoon, I've been browsing the internet for possible field trip locations (a planetarium) and been wondering what it would be like to actually be able to afford a fancy vacation (in Seoul).  It's interesting to me how smart the internet is:  Side-bars know everything about me, it seems, and know exactly how to tempt me to over-use my credit card.


Yeah, the internet is smart.  It also knows how to celebrate Valentine's Day.  Its ads come equipped with phrases like, "Earn a love-swept vacation for 2 to Paris."  "Give him something he'll really love this Valentine's Day."  "Show her you really care.  Roses on sale."...  Cool....  I like roses.  Never been to Paris, but I'm not really interested in changing that.  I wonder when these things became to depict "love."


I think love is one of those words we tend to over-use in our English language, but it's not necessarily our fault.  Other languages-- Spanish, Greek, and Korean, for example-- have many words and phrases to express "love."  There's love-- like the way we love that purse (but would never, ever pay more than $10 for it).  There's love-- like the way I would love to be able to eat chili-cheese fries someday.  There's love-- like the way I love my job.  There's love-- the way I love my friends.  There's love-- the way I love my family.  And there's love-- the kind that teenagers think they understand.


I think all of those kinds of love can be true love.  But, being bombarded as we are with "love" messages from the media, I can see how it's easy to get confused about what true love is.


As I see it, true love isn't winning trips to Paris, giving someone roses, or investing in uncomfortable lingerie.  True love isn't holding hands in public.  It isn't dinner and movie or snap-chatting.  To me, those are only artificial ways to represent (or misrepresent) our feelings.


In the romantic sense, sometimes true love is choosing to be alone.  I'm often asked by coworkers and acquaintances if I'd ever consider dating or marrying someone who's not Mormon.  My quick answer is, "No, because there'd be a conflict of culture, and it would be very difficult to raise a child under those circumstances."...  It's not a lie.  The more precise answer would be, "I need to be married in a Mormon temple where my [hypothetical] sweet-heart and I can be promised to each other for time and all eternity."  'Till death do us part' isn't what I want for my true love story.


True love is the way my dogs come running when they hear me come home from work.  Tails wagging.  Eyes shining.  Not for any reason.  Just because I came home, and I take care of them, and they love me.  Even the husky, stubborn as she is, insists on staying at arm's length whenever I'm home; and even chose not to run away when she had chances to.  (That's true husky love, friends.)  Their love may be instinctive, but it's true love nonetheless.


True love happens when a family member gets sick, and all the others wish it would have been them instead.  It's when the sick family member is thankful that they're the sick one and not someone else.  True love is when a family member drops everything to buy a $6 California roll for a sister, because that's the only thing she wants to eat.  It's coming to the defense of a brother or sister or son or daughter whose character is being attacked by bitter and unforgiving critics.  It's putting in sprinkler systems-- one after the other-- and building playhouses and swing-sets.  It's moving pianos and couches and washing machines.  That's another way that true love can look.


True love is hearing that a new niece or nephew is going to be a part of the family.  That their existence, even in the womb, is already so programmed in with the family unit that we can't remember what life was like without them.  It's loving those babies completely and totally.  It's watching their parents, though exhausted and worried, light up whenever their children enter the room.  Missing those little ones, holding a little sock longingly, tracing over little hand-smudges on the bathroom mirror, and planning the next big tea party-- that's love.  Watching those children pick dandelions for their mom, or watching them squeal when they see Grandma and Grandpa-- that's true love.


True love is my Gramies and Gramps.  It's when, later in life, they were in a car accident. Gramps was saying what he thought would be his final good-byes, yet-- upon hearing that his wife had suffered from a heart attack and needed surgery, his demeanor changed.  He demanded to be made healthy again so that he could be with his wife who needed him.  Love was watching Gramies recover from that surgery, because she demanded to be with her husband who needed her.  True love was watching them care for each other.  Even now, after his death, I feel my Gramp's love envelop their home.  True love is like that.


True love is a Savior who suffered every injustice, every misdeed, and every miserable experience-- through no wrong-doing of His own.  It was suffering those experiences to a point surpassing death, even suffering those things alone.  True love is a Heavenly Father who allowed all of it to happen so that all of us would know just how infinitely and perfectly we are all truly loved-- collectively and individually.


True love is believing that we are worthy of receiving and giving these expressions of love in return, as much as we are capable.


So, my hope is that artificial or expiring love won't take the place of true love this Valentine's Day.  Or ever.  True love is more than a Hallmark card, a box of chocolates, and a candle-lit dinner.  If that's all we're seeking, then we're certainly missing the forest for the trees.  Because true love doesn't expire, doesn't need a holiday, nor does it need to be advertised in a pop-up window.


May we all feel loved, truly loved, this Valentine's Day.  No purchase of Paris vacation needed.

Surviving Valentine's Day

It's February!  Good things that I suspect will happen this month:  every one of my students' parents will show up for parent/teacher conferences, I'll have a productive appointment with my internal medicine doctor to make me healthy again, and my anonymous snow-shoveling friends will keep up the good work.  Oh... and Valentine's Day is happening.


Not to talk myself up or anything, but I'm pretty much an expert at spending Valentine's Day alone.  Come to think of it... I don't know that there was ever a Valentine's Day where I had an official "valentine."  Not unless you count elementary school when everyone was required to bring valentines for the class.  Yep.  Take it from a girl who hasn't had any suitors since 2008-- you, too, can survive and thrive "alone" on Valentine's Day.  (No hoarding or unreasonable purchase of cats necessary.)  Here's what to do/remember:

• Watch this link.  It explains life:  All the good ones are taken.
• It's just one day.  One day out of 365.25 a year.  Love doesn't limit itself to just 24 hours or just one set of experiences.  Who's to say that March 14 or April 14 can't be just as special as February 14?  Every day has the potential to be a special day.
• Don't be bitter toward those who have a valentine with whom to spend the day.  Whether looking up or looking down on others to judge them-- both situations are wrong.  Don't criticize those who, in their loving relationships, make a big deal about Valentine's Day.  I hope that my friends and family have a blast sharing the day with their significant others.  When others are happily celebrating, it doesn't mean that my reservoir of happiness suddenly becomes depleted.  Joy isn't a competition-- be happy that someone else is happy.
• For the realists who can't stand the sappy sentiment:  Feel sorry for the high percentage of couples celebrating who will probably break up and/or divorce before the year is over.
• Depression is a sign of selfishness.  Stop being selfish.  I'm not talking clinical depression.  That's something else entirely (and not selfish at all).  However, becoming easily irritated, moody, and overly emotional because of a holiday-- that's selfish.  If you must, throw a tantrum, and then get over yourself.  Think of someone else.  Chances are, there are dozens of people you know who would appreciate a call or a visit on Valentine's Day.  Maybe there's your grandmother who's missing your deceased grandfather?  And what mother wouldn't like to receive a call from a child saying, "Happy Valentine's Day, Mom.  I love you."  I bet she'd like that better than whatever bouquet Dad is going to bring home.
• Take yourself to dinner and a movie.  Be your own valentine.  Why rely on outside sources to validate your importance?  Love yourself enough to celebrate-- not because it's a holiday, but because you genuinely believe that you are important.  You are important, so act like it.
• If dinner and a movie is a bit out of budget, make it a night in.  Treat yourself to a night of your favorite movies, TV shows, and/or videogames.  Since Valentine's Day is on a Friday this year, you won't even have to keep an eye on the clock.  The day will be over before you know it.  (I also recommend eating your own weight in Valentine's candy... assuming your body can take it.)
• Adopt a pet.  Ok, ok-- I know I mentioned above that no unnecessary purchase of pets was necessary.  If you're afraid of becoming the crazy-cat lady, then disregard this suggestion.  However, I've gotta admit that my pets have put into perspective what it means to truly care for someone else.  For some (**cough**hack**Mom**), pets = bacteria and carpet stains.  For me, pets = unconditional love.  What better way to express the love in your heart than to save a life?
• Put it in perspective.  Having someone to love, and someone to love you, is a powerful thing.  I don't imagine there are too many people who hope to be alone forever and ever.  We tend to put our relationships on a pedestal for a reason, after all.  (Wait one sec.  I've gotta get on my soap-box here.)  I don't think a loving God would plan for any of us to be eternally alone.  The unfortunate statistics are that, yes, some of us may have to spend our entire mortal lives without ever finding a special someone with whom to spend that life.  But, that's ok.  In comparison with eternity, a lifetime really isn't so long-- just a blip on infinity.  Call me crazy, but if love is what gives us great happiness in life, I doubt that Heavenly Father will suddenly choose to have us live without it.  He promises that every person who follows Him diligently will receive every deserved reward.  That reward includes love, a very special someone with whom to share eternity.  Whether in this life or the next, it's a promise.  So enjoy the phase of life which you're in, because all good things are promised to those who are obedient.