On Anxiety and Introversion

Y'all, I hate being an introvert. I want to be the person to start conversations or join in one. I hate sitting on the sidelines observing others chatting away. But that's what I am: an observer. Because of my empathy, I find it overwhelming to talk to so many people, so I observe. Because of my introversion, I am exhausted after being surrounded by a large group, but I don't mind. Because of my anxiety, I'm constantly questioning what I want to say or what I did say. I am the kind of person who will be anxious over something I said that I thought was weird for days. I will ask myself why I say or do things that can be construed as creepy or weird or annoying and chastise myself for continuing to do so. What that leaves me with is nothing to say.

This week, I have found myself in multiple situations that call upon my above flaws. I feel these things over social media as well. If I message someone that I don't have their number and they don't give it to me, I think they obviously don't want to interact with me. I will reach out to moms on Instagram and if they don't reply, I question if I came on too strong. IRL I hate walking around large groups of people basically waiting for a conversation I can join in and I just seem to be lurking. And the worst is when you're talking to someone and someone else comes to talk to them and they start having a conversation completely irrelevant to you so you just turn around and kind of disappear.

What it boils down to is my brain. That sounds weird but let me explain. My thoughts run at 160 miles/minute. As I am in these social situations, I remember times that I've embarrassed myself or heard of an embarrassing situation and I try to avoid that. I think back to 3rd grade when I was told at a sleepover that I was too loud, so I try and speak quietly. I think back to Kindergarten when I was told, "If you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all," which I've translated to, "If you don't have something constructive to say, don't say anything." I think back to sometime in elementary school when I tried to tell my church leaders I had a wedgie but said "hickey" for some reason, and they obviously gave me a weird look. I think back to every whisper in my direction, every strange look, every denied text or turned shoulder, and I get anxious. My husband and I have a routine that when we go out, he is the ice breaker and I hit the home run. It's not that I won't talk, I'm just too nervous to start the conversation. So Stephen will introduce us, do the small talk (oh, the agony!), find some common ground which is when I step in and knock stout of the park. But he isn't home a lot so I find myself growing in situations I'm sure are a million times worse in my head, but I have no one to ground me. Another part of this feeling is this generation. We are so used to instant gratification that we freak out when someone doesn't answer our text within 5 minutes. I know my love language is Words of Affirmation, and I need people to verbally quell my anxieties and fears in order to stop them. If I make a big purchase and I'm nervous about Stephen's reaction, the minute he blows it off or justifies it, my heart stops pounding and I can breathe again. When I get verbal feedback on my work, I am always so relieved to at least know what the other person is thinking. Anytime I'm asked which superpower I would want, I always say to read people's minds. I wouldn't need to fish for verbal confirmation. I hate fishing, but I don't have the confidence to ask outright if someone could help me get a job or to tell me how my work is improving.

Even now as I type, I am wondering if I should even continue this post. I ask my self what the purpose is for typing this. Am I even going to publish it? Sometimes I just have to do it. I just have to suck it up and start a conversation. Sometimes I have to bite the bullet and make the difficult phone call (anyone else have a hard time talking to some people on the phone?). So I hope this crazy mess of word vomit can help someone somehow just know they're not alone. If anything, it was a nice venting session.

On Minimalism and Consumerism

My life has changed so much since becoming a mom. While that is probably the most obvious statement of the century, a lot of the changes were unexpected and completely surprising. I've become stronger, physically, emotionally, and mentally than I ever thought possible. I have become a lot more confident and now stand up for myself and my family in situations I otherwise would not have for fear of being called "picky" or "particular". And I have become a beginner minimalist. I say beginner because I have only just begun my journey of decluttering my life. I am so excited to share my thoughts on this subject!

I used to be such a consumer. I was an advertising agencies main audience. I would soak up whatever was trendy and desire to own it. Once I got whatever it was, I typically wouldn't use it as much as I thought I would and it would collect with my other "needs". Thinking back to my middle school self at the height of my materialism, I had so many things, but I didn't like it. I felt chaos when I went into my room, overwhelmed by things. However, I could never get rid of them. Reason 1) What if I need this someday. Maybe one day I will fix my Tamagotchi and it will be fun and trendy or worth something eventually (I wish). Reason 2) This is way too sentimental for me to ever not own. Reason 3) I wanted this so badly, so I'm just going to hang on to it because I must have wanted it for a reason. I cringe when I think of everything I could've gotten rid of. When I moved out, I got rid of a lot, but tried to hold on to everything I could. I would frequently go through things and get rid of little by little, but it wasn't until I had a baby that I realized it is impractical to hang on to a lot of things, my materialism has shattered as I've found more joy in Jesus, my husband and baby, and my church, in that order. 

I think a practical approach to view this change would be to discuss my change in interior decor. When I was in high school, I was very impressionable. I was on the cheer squad, so I had bows and long everywhere, including all over my room and walls. Posters of the Jonas Brothers were carefully hung as wallpaper. In high school, gone were the JB posters. In their place were picture frames and brand name store bags (what even!). When I got married and moved out, I embraced the South (still impressionable) and attempted the rustic look for a year and a half. Eventually I "found myself" and realized I was an eclectic bohemian gal. Our apartment was carefully curated with deep, rich tones and carefully selected pieces. When we brought Daxton home to this environment, I realized I couldn't handle the apartment the way it was. I felt like it was constantly in disarray with the dark colors making the space seem smaller. The baby gear quickly overwhelmed the space and I knew I needed a change or my anxiety would never cease. I would scroll my Instagram and spend a bit of time on profiles I found peaceful. They were scattered with whites, neutrals, wood, and beautiful greenery. I would feel calm even looking at these pictures and realized I needed to quickly bring that into my life in order to finally get a hold on motherhood or I would always be the frazzled mom who never had anything done on time. I now identify my interior style as modern bohemian. I had a real come to Jesus with my closet, my living room, and my makeup/toiletries under my sink (you know how that stuff collects!). I went through our DVD's, linen closet, hubby's closet, Daxton's closet, Daxton's toys, under our bed shenanigans (how is there SO MUCH stuff?) and was so proud at how much went to Goodwill. This was a process that lasted a few weeks. As I got rid of 20 items, I would bring in one more. Though the consumer is still alive, she is subdued. 

NOTE: This translates into baby items and clothing. I now find myself looking for timeless clothing and few mix and match pieces. I seek neutral color items and things that serve more than one purpose. I traded our old high chair for an Ikea one because it's extremely lightweight, easy to clean, and looks so much more pleasing to the eye. This doesn't mean I won't keep toys out or need my apartment to be clear of all baby gear, I just need everything to have its' place and still have enough room to stretch.

The concept of minimalism is that you find joy in freeing yourself from consumerism and materialism. I held on to so many things I thought would bring me joy, but I always remind myself that joy comes from Jesus, happiness is of the world. I know I would rather live in joy, so I get rid of things. Hubby always says he wants to help me relax by getting rid of things. I am proud of the way I tackle this task. I had a shirt in my closet that hadn't been worn in 4 yeas, but never would be donated; it was the shirt I was wearing when Hubby proposed. It was a teal lace number with a button in the back. I can't remember the last time I wore such a bold color. I knew I was literally NEVER going to wear it, so I had to tell myself that pictures will be enough and I need to part with the shirt. The freedom that came from that motivated me to get rid of 125 items from my closet. I have a long way to go, but this is a journey about focusing on the important things in life and realizing Jesus is all I need. Jesus and coffee.

http://www.theminimalists.com/minimalism/

On Maturity

Lately I have come across a lot of instances in my life that have made me inflect on the idea of maturity. Defining maturity is just as difficult as it is easy. There are different measures of maturity, different types of maturity, and various things can be assigned a maturity level: cheese, people, wine, video games. I know this may seem like a very random or vague topic, so please bear with me as I write and try to make sense of my own thoughts as well!

When it comes to wine and cheese, maturity is measured by age. When determining the maturity of a person, I can assure you, age has nothing to do with it. I have met the most astonishingly mature ten-year old and a very immature person of fifty-five. One could say that the person who acts childish is the less mature. When we see a child acting not like a child, we praise him for being "mature".

I believe true maturity is when a person is able to act in a manner that is truly reflective of who they are. Basically, when you see guys being complete tools in the manner they treat women, that is honestly not who they are, but they are deflecting some other emotions or feelings in an unhealthy and immature way. When women are full crazy drama psycho maniacs who have no regard to other people's feelings, they are masking their true self and guarding their feelings and emotions in an unhealthy and immature way. But the minute a person decides to fix that, to right their attitude and own up to their emotions and feelings, no matter how irrational or flawed, is the minute that person truly matures. On a much smaller scale, looking back to myself just one year ago, I think how immature I was; I was forcing myself into a career and a lifestyle I was not happy with (this change is reflected in my design style, as illustrated in my previous post "On Starting Over" http://rosemaryandjames.blogspot.com/2015/11/on-starting-over.html). Recently, I began a journey on identifying my true self. In doing so, I have been able to feel more and more like I am truly acting in a way that is reflective of who I am. I find myself slipping and saying or doing something that is immature, meaning a way that is not reflective of who I am, and I always try to catch myself and use it as a springboard for growth.

Maturity in a person has little to do with age and a lot to do with experiences. If a person has been in a situation where they have been encouraged and allowed to be true to their self, they will often be much more mature than someone who has not. Perhaps that is why tweens (hate that word) and teens are usually seen as immature; they are finding identifying themselves while they are often trying to graduate, pick a career, struggling to make their parents happy, make good grades, stay involved, and just have fun!

So basically, if you're reading this and hoping to take something away, remember that life is too short to be anyone but yourself...I know I heard that somewhere so I just looked it up. Thank Anne Hathaway for that advice. But really, seek true maturity and you will find yourself; seek yourself and you will find true maturity.

Au revoir!
T

On Finding Yourself When No One Is Looking

I recently started a journey of upheaval and chaos in my life. I am now on a search for happiness in which I am hoping to find and define myself. In the past three months, I have quit my job and decided to change everything about the direction my life was headed. The issue that caused me to step back and reexamine my life was that I was simply not happy. So now, I need to figure out what it is that would make me happy and I need to define my own happiness. In order to do that, I need to find myself. But how on earth and I supposed to find myself if I am the only one looking?

I lose things. Ask each and every friend I have and they will all recall how at least twice a day I say, "Where is my chapstick? I swear, I just had it. I put it down right here and now it is gone!" I know many of you are laughing because you know it is so true. It happens with all my things: my phone, my glasses, my chargers, hair ties, clothes. In all those instances, I can always call on someone for help. Now I have lost myself, and no one can help me find me. There is no "Find My iPhone" and I can't just check in my purse or under my pillow. I know that in order to find myself, I am going to have to search deep within my soul, and that is a scary place. Perhaps the reason I have put this off for so long is because I am scared of what I will find. In fact, I am positive that is the reason. Redefining myself isn't just about revamping my closet, sticking to one genre of music, or finally having favorites; redefining myself means looking at my soul straight on and asking myself what is important to me and what truly makes me feel happy, appreciated, important, and needed. What I find my answers to be may not fit in my life as it is. So I ask myself which is more important: comfort and security, or dream fulfillment and true happiness. No matter if I use my pathos or my logos, the answer is pretty clear. I know there are people out there, even within my family, who would rather feel safe and secure than risk everything they know for a dream. So maybe I have already begun to find myself, because I know the path I will pursue is that of dreams, happiness, and a serious issue of wanderlust.

Looking back through my life, I don't know that I ever knew who I was. I constantly adapted to my surroundings in an effort to fit in. I became so many different people, that I never even thought that I wasn't me. This is not going to be easy, and it isn't going to always be happy, but it is an adventure, and I know the end result will be me having no regrets for things I wish I had done. I am going to take risks (skydiving, anyone?) and I am going to have to take some leaps of faith. I am going to raise hell and create a certain kind of chaos. I am going to break social norms and I am certain I will do whatever it takes to make me...me. Because I am on my own on this one, and I don't do anything the easy way.

Adventures are waiting for me, and I am just as eager for them.

Au revoir.
-T