Rewiring the Brain.

Sometimes I try to pretend that I was never religious. I'm tired of religion. I'm tired when I think of all the decisions that I made about my education and my life because I was worried they would take me away from my true calling as a wife and mother. I'm tired of trying to talk in circles about how to change said religions so they make more sense and are more egalitarian.

I just get tired. Or maybe, I'm just still so hurt. I think I avoid religion lately because it's still so emotionally taxing on me. Having made a break from the Mormon faith just over two years ago hasn't dissipated all the hard wiring my brain has had to try and undo after 30 years of thinking one way. And it's hard fighting with yourself all the time. It's hard second guessing your well thought out decisions. It's hard having friends and family look at you like you are a problem to be fixed. It gets hard. And tiring.

I recently read this article that really moved me. I understood her story. I lived her story. I think you could read it too and see what a lot of women in the LDS church deal with--though it may seem silly that it's engrained in us so fully, but it really is.

She tells her story, and then she optimistically paints a solution to how you can balance your faith, family, and career if certain changes were made. I like the story she paints. She paints it in shades of warm yellow and orange that make me start to feel something. But, my blueness regarding the situation comes back after only a few moments. Sometimes the problem seems so big. And, why should I even try and change what I perceive as a problem, when so many women are ok with it? That's the big question. Do I just get out and then leave the church and it's consenting women to their own demise? Many would say yes. Many would get upset with me even calling it a "demise". But all I know is that if I didn't have a friend who was brave enough to voice her concerns and leave the church and then tell me about it, knowing, or at least hoping, that I would love her anyway--if I didn't have her to see that it WAS possible to be actually happy and religion free--then I'd still be in that same church. I would be meeting my own demise. My soul and spirit and whatever you want to call it were dying in that church and I didn't even realize it.

You can read the full story about this woman here.

Also, you can read this little excerpt below.

Women’s invisibility is at the root of all their problems, and this invisibility comes from women’s profound lack of representation in the major decision making councils of the world and their lack of influence and power. To have their voices heard and better the lives of all women, men, and children, they must find their way into governments, academia, international affairs, and business administration. In that way, those making the decisions will have women’s needs and interests (and by extension, those of the family) in mind. However, this presents a major dilemma for those who are Latter-day Saints and who believe that motherhood and family cohesion are preeminent.

It is broadly accepted that Mormons traditionally believe in stay-at-home moms. For many years the counsel to the members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from the church leaders has been for mom to stay in the home while the children are still being raised. They were strongly counseled against taking any kind of career when it wasn’t necessary. Many Latter-day Saint boys are raised to look for a girl to marry who is committed to staying home with her kids, and girls are raised with marriage and homemaking as their ultimate ambition. How is a Latter-day Saint to reconcile the need for women to take positions of political influence, when those positions require work outside of the home and a lifelong investment in a career in order to reach any type of authoritative level of influence? Considering that a woman cannot be simultaneously in her home with her children and in the workplace making a change in the world, and boards of directors and politicians cannot and will not hire someone without experience, major societal changes are in order to reconcile this dilemma. These changes must take place in the workplace, in societal values, and in societal expectations, particularly for men.

I feel like it's Indecision 2011 for me. I'm almost 34. I feel like I need to decide if I want to go out and grab that husband and have that baby, or if I want to do what I feel so passionate about in my heart. Is there really a way to do both? I don't really believe that there is. I think having children changes the playing ground so completely that your life is never the same. That you focus so fully on them you let other things fall by the wayside. That's a good thing. I want mothers in this world that would be involved in mothering. And I know myself well enough to know that if I had a child, I would give so much of myself, my time, my talents (and that I would WANT to give those things to that little baby) that all of my other dreams would still sort of be realized, just not as fully. Or my dreams would change. Which isn't a bad thing at all. But it seems bad now. It seems lesser. It seems like I won't reach my full potential. It seems like I'm talking in circles, doesn't it? Meh. 

Something Like San Fran....

Last week I thought about moving to San Fran. I did this because one person in my life (an important person) made me feel that living in Utah was probably less than what my life should be.

And I realized, after three days of debating about San Fran...that there was a more important question I should be asking.

Why do I care so much about what he thinks of me?

There is a deep part of who I am that doesn't want to disappoint the idea that he has of me. AND THAT...above any other choice I'm making right now, has totally baffled me. Hurmph.

So, I decided to take things to the extreme and examine:

At the top of one extreme is Jesus, the Prophet, or just orthodox Mormonism in general. I worshipped this extreme to the extreme. Under this extreme I was supposed to get married. I was supposed to have babies. I was supposed to give my power to a man. I was supposed to succumb. I was supposed to do A LOT of crazy shit that I never did. I failed. I failed miserably at being a good mormon girl. And while I can now give a standing ovation to that failure, for many years under the LDS umbrella, I felt pretty shitty for being such a failure. It hurt to fail that hard.

The other extreme. The most opposite thing from Mormon world I can get is the world that he represents to me. He's like the hot, chocolate Jesus of this world. This is a world of possibility, of power, of living your dreams, of knowing your dreams, of being in complete bliss with each of your actions, of being at the highest self-actualized point in life. And, there it is. And I have had glimpses of trying to tackle this world. The latest one was with BossLady. And I failed. Miserably. Terribly. And it hurt.

Now, dusting myself off again. I am taking a look at both extremes and finding where I want to fit in on the spectrum. I have, sadly, somehow made his opinion of me too high up on my list--maybe because he is male? because he is powerful?

I've gone around this week wondering why I care so much of what he thinks of me, and I guess it is because he represents so much of what I want to become....

The truth is, I have a game plan for my life--and it absolutely involves Utah at this time--but I was afraid to admit it to him.

And the reality from that is that I need to stop giving others my power and I need to trust my gut, my intuition, and my plan without doubting it when one person raises an eyebrow at it. Because if one person raising an eyebrow gets me to doubt my plan, then I need a new plan or I need to get back my power

The beautiful thing about my life right now is that I am knowing myself to my core. What if the job I took turned out to be the most horrific thing ever--who am I still? What if BossLady hates me--who am I? What if people think I bad at my job--who am I? What if Jesus isn't real and I've devoted the last 30 years of my life to him--who am I? What if the Mormon church isn't true, and my lame ass ex-boyfriend wasn't attracted to me, and my parents were sort of shitty, and I was abused as a kid, and my best friend betrayed me, and my paycheck isn't very big...then who the fuck am I? And if I can have a solid answer and know myself fully after all of that...and leave room for growth and freedom and changing my plans as I grow and change, well, then, San Fran may come and it may not...but I'll still be me :)

Gaslighting....

It is in every psychological thriller. Take someone sane. And then. Through a series of related and unrelated events. Make them believe that they are crazy. Make them believe that they are so crazy that the only person who can help shed any light on what is happening is the one person that made them "crazy" in the first place.

This, in fact, has a term. It is called gaslighting. I'd never heard of it before now. I never needed to know it's definition. But as I sift through what I saw my former boss (who we will just call BossLady) do to all of the women who came to her for help, I am now aware that this is what was happening.

The official definition:

Gaslighting is an extreme form of emotional, psychological, abuse, and as such, gradually erodes the victim’s sense of self-worth and self-esteem (or, in the case of BossLady--prays upon those with already destroyed self-esteems), with the outcome being; self-confidence destroyed. Alas, the victim adopts a confused, disorientated stance and thus renders herself exposed, moreso, to criticism and judgment. Henceforth, the roles are quite clear: the victim is considered “crazy” (mentally deranged) whilst the abuser is the “suffering soul.”

Then, if you're BossLady. Make claims that you are the only one who can heal them. And take their money. And then send them home unhealed and worse than before.

The NUMBER 1 tool of an emotional manipulator is to get others to trust YOU and not their "gut" (or intuition, or feelings, or reactions).

You have instincts. They are real. If your gut tells you that there is something off with one person in your life, but they allow you to feel normal and safe with the rest of your world. Think about it. Victims shouldn't exist. And they won't if we don't allow it.

Something to Talk About...

I have the smallest handful of people who take the time to read my blog. To me, that is priceless. I love it. I love that you share in my life. I love that you go through some part of my journey with me. I love going through yours with you. So, here it goes, I'm finally ready to talk about this year. And I hope, honestly, that you can learn something from the hard lessons I have learned....without EVER having to go through them yourself.

I've had a year that basically started with everyone saying that I had the dream job. I was living and working in Switzerland and gallivanting off to Portugal, Norway, Italy, and France. It certainly contains echoes of perfection.

What I have never talked about was the nature of the work I did, the types of people I became exposed to, and the reason why I eventually had to quit and leave everything to come back home to America with a very large NOTHING staring me in the face.

Yesterday, two very interesting things happened. Well, actually, two very ordinary and uninteresting things happened.

1) I got a pedicure.

2) I saw Eat, Pray, Love with my girlfriends.

Not earth shattering by any means.

Here is how they processed out in my brain.

When you see the beginning of Eat, Pray, Love (and I'm not giving anything away here). Liz Gilbert gets told by a medicine man in Bali that she will have two marriages, that she will lose all of her money, and that she will return to Bali one day as a different person.

And she did.

And it turned out to be the most amazing experience of her life--bringing happiness, love, joy, and wealth.

I was standing in a random train line in Rome last June and I met a lady. A magical lady. A lady who was gracious, charming, loving, sweet, and made you feel the best possible way you can feel about yourself in her presence. She was famous. She was well-known. And, this lady, after spending one hour in line with me in Rome, offered me a job for the rest of the summer. I was thinking about it. I wasn't sure. I agreed to one month.

And once I agreed to the one month, she looked at me and said, "I know that you will come and work for me forever. You will come to my clinic in Switzerland and Portugal. You will."

And she said it with so much love and kindness, that I sort of felt my gut reacting to her, and I believed it was true. And I made the decision to go, because that is how you live life in large ways (like I like to do). And yet, before I took the job, I had very real, nagging moments that this was not going to end well. But, I pushed that aside, dubbed it by the name of "fear", and went on my way.

And so, I did it.

And it turned out to be the most heartbreaking, psychotic, emotionally manipulative time in my entire life.

And because I made the decision to go there. And it turned out so horrifically...I am finding it hard for me to make any decisions at all. At all. None. I'm a bit at a paralyzed standstill.

Thus, the pedicure. They gave me 50 colors of nail polish to choose from. I couldn't, for the life of me, make a decision. I finally choose one that was something completely different I have ever tried before.

The lady said, "May I be honest with you, I don't think this is a good color for your skin tone. Perhaps you can choose another one?" I got a little frustrated and stubborn and told her it was the exact one that I wanted...even though part of me knew that she was right.

And now, looking down at my toes. She was right. And while the nail polish is only a metaphor for my thoughts, it's just this small nagging reminder that I didn't follow my gut.

So, what happens when you keep making decisions that turn out badly? Because, for me, this has never happened before.

Time to Amaze...

Wake up! Remember what excites you. Think of these things, those friends, and the adventures that can be yours. Focus. Care. Fantasize. Imagine. It's all so near. Speak as if you're ready. Physically prepare for the changes that you wish to experience in your life. You've done this before. You know it works. You're due for an encore. It's time to amaze. That's why you're here.

I'm one of those people that believes life is good. REALLY good! I believe that life gives you lemonade. I believe that every good thing that came into my life--from moving to Paris just before my twentieth birthday, to spending summer nights in Harlem listening to my downstairs neighbor blow tunes on his sad sax, to having that first French kiss, to seeing my newest little niece via skype yesterday for the first time--and knowing she had my heart right then and there--because I believe that life is meant to be wonderful.

I've said this to a many people before, and a few of them, the hardened ones, have called me naive. They usually wear tweed jackets, work in academia, and were my boyfriends at one point. They think these twinkling blue eyes and long blond hair and white, white skin might just be the three ingredients that keep a person soft and naive.

That's not the case for me. I've had things in my life that could have and have tried to--make me hard. I've had a brother who has been addicted to drugs since he was 16. He is now 27. He is homeless and living in a park somewhere. I've had a sister who's husband shot her in their driveway--and nearly killed her--in fact, I do think he killed most of her spirit, and I am at a loss at how to help her rebuild any of her former self...let alone the lower half of her face that he shot away. I've had a cousin who was left to babysit me when I was young and he sexually abused me. I've struggled with an eating disorder for most of my life. I found true love at 16 years old--and he was killed in a car accident just a few short months later, and I don't know if I've ever really gotten over it. I have a mom who, when I would ask for money as a teenager, threatened to kill herself for the insurance money and give it to us, and she was pretty serious. I have an older sister who doesn't want to have me in her life because we don't agree on religion. I have had. You have had. We have all had our lives.

But that is just it--life. We live it. It is messy. It is not supposed to be pristine and clean and have everyone perfectly in their place and sort everyone by a label. Most people like you to live by labels--Gay, Straight, Christian, Muslim, Tall, Short, Fat, Skinny, Smart, Dumb, Republican, Democrat, Caucasian, Asian, Jock, Prep, Cheerleader, Goth, Emo, Nerd, Youngest, Oldest, Ugly, Pretty. Once you label something--you define it--you confine it. You try and take away its wings.

Wings are what makes life worth living. Wings give you authenticity. Wings represent that indelible, consistent, unfailing river of hope that flows through the veins of each person--some more quickly than others. And this day, this exact day, my wings are taking me to Portugal. And it didn't come to me easily, and it isn't happening by chance. I created every route and venue for living my perfect, undefinable life. And there, with the ocean breezes, white beaches, shooting stars, and endless possibilities--that's the place I'll fly a bit higher than I have before.

And if that is naivete, I'll take it--every time.

Happy Easter

For Easter morn, I'll wake up and have a cup of tea.

I'll write my thoughts in my journal and give them a place to be seen. They like it when I do that; it helps them rest.

I'll pick up pen and put it to paper to send a distant letter to a close friend. I like friends.

I'll take a walk and confide. And most likely there will be a smile on my face and a twinkle in my eye.

And I'll spend time in a light-filled room thinking of all the things I am grateful for and how much this day and time has expanded from the one-dimensional way I used to look at it.

And I'll be happy. The end.

Worlds Unknown

Last night, for the first time that I can ever remember, I had a dream about dolphins. There were hundreds of them, their shiny, slippery, satin skin touching mine as I dove and jumped with them. They accepted me, played with me, spoke to me without words, and protected me. It is evening now, and I am still smiling about that dream.

Once, I did swim with dolphins. I lived in Florida and went out swimming in the Gulf of Mexico by myself. I swam out far, too far. I was worried, but at the same time I wasn't, I wanted to push myself out farther than I had ever been before. I am like that. I push myself a lot. I saw a black fin come towards me. I was sure it was a shark and that I was going to die. I simply accepted it and went still. In my experience, dolphins were NEVER black. This one was. And soon, there were followers, and soon, they were swimming with me and I kept pace for a minute...and then they sailed onward. It was a moment that no one else witnessed, a moment I don't share very often. A moment that was pure and radiant for me.

To see a dolphin in your dream symbolizes spiritual guidance, your intellect, mental attributes and emotional trust. It has also been said that a dream about a dolphin suggests that a line of communication has been established between the conscious and unconscious aspects of yourself. Dolphins represent your willingness and ability to explore and navigate through your emotions. As I close this time in Switzerland, I can say that this has absolutely been the case for me.

Dolphins are also representative of the Gods and it is said that to dream of dolphins--is to dream where they can lead you to worlds unknown. I move, in two weeks, to a country that I have never before set a foot. It is an unknown world and I am ready to take it. I am ready to push myself farther than I have before.

(Book suggestion: Ring of Endless Light by Madeline L'Engle--one of those books that changes your life as a young kid.)

Boxed up Dreams

From the moment you're born to the moment your grown you are constantly put into boxes that shape the definition you have of yourself. Usually we think these are bad, but there are many boxes I wouldn't want to escape from. I'm a Woman, a feminist, a daughter, a teacher, a photographer, an artist, and a million other things. The beauty is that YOU get to determine what boxes you want to expand, which ones you want to crawl out from, which ones you'll snuggle into, and ultimately how you organize it all into one beautiful life adventure.

I had my boxes neatly stacked. I had a vision of what my life would hold. I had happiness in each corner. Love is there. Soul is there. Music is there. Family is there. Friends are there. Laughter is there. It's all there. Just there. And it's so so so good. And you just don't think it can get any better. Right.

But guess what. It can.

As a little girl I ALWAYS knew that life was going to be a big deal for me. I believed I was special. I don't think that's a unique thought at 5 or 7 or 9 or 12 or 15...but then again, maybe it is. I've had big dreams that I've chased that have brought me here and I realize the absolute biggest dreams are just starting. That's the most exciting adventure of all. Things my brain couldn't even create out of incredulousness are now all seeming like regular life expectations. Effortlessly they just keep coming.

I haven't felt a lot of emotions lately for obvious reasons. I've been pretty numb...dealing with a lot of pain...more than should be dealt with at one time for any of us humans. And yet, for the first time this weekend, I finally felt that welling up of undeniable excitement and the possibility that dreaming big and watching those dreams come to fruition has started to catch fire within me. It's a flame. It's starting to burn. I see it all. No one is in my way. A world of support around me. A new world waiting to be discovered. A new person to fall in love with. A new language to learn. A new map to navigate. And lots and lots of new people to love and help and learn from.

Wow.


Honey, I'm gonna need some bigger boxes.