Author: Libby

I Want You to Want

Libby, , , , 3 Comments

So, for me it started in High School. I don’t know what it was that prompted all of us to adopt this attitude that caring about things was lame. What a time to start that, eh? Right around the time that you want things so badly you’d do anything to have them all while pretending to be completely ambivalent about it all.

Did I want cool clothes? Psh. No. I was fine with the clothes my mom had been sewing for me since birth. I’m not materialistic like that.
Please, God, please let me have an Arizona jacket for Christmas like all the other kids have!

Did I want to be invited to the parties that all the other kids were going to on the weekends? No. Gross. I didn’t want to become an alcoholic at seventeen!
What’s wrong with me that no one wants to spend time with me outside of school?

Did I want to be asked to dance at the Oktoberfest street dance? Ugh. Please, I didn’t even want to be here.
I’ve been planning my outfit for weeks and I stole my mom’s navy blue eyeliner to apply in the Duckwalls bathroom before the dance started.

Part of it was the constant rejection of being the fat kid. Some of it was growing up in a house with four kids and there was just never quite enough money to go around. Asking for things was selfish. It was easier for everyone if we just pretended we didn’t want for anything. Another bit of it was being a woman in a Christian environment where we’re encouraged to chase contentment in all things that are handed to us. And where all these identities intersect is the perfect storm to create a person who doesn’t know she’s allowed to care. Wanting is for other people.

Even still, my partner is constantly asking me, “What do you want?” It’s become a lesson. Wanting is something that I have to practice.
It’s not that I don’t feel comfortable speaking up for what I want–it’s that for the most part, I’m incapable of wanting. I don’t want anything–at least not that I know of. My desire is constantly buried under a pile of things that come first. Other people’s preferences or needs or comfort.

I’ve built a life of defense mechanisms. Reactive to what’s around me without even recognizing that being proactive is an option. Proactive is new to me and it’s hard. But we can do hard things if we practice.

When it comes to this blog, I’ve been pretending that what happens happens and I’ll be okay with it even if no one reads it, I’m just happy to be writing. And that’s true. That is the core of why I’m even here in the first place. But as my honesty has increased in this space, so has the visibility of it. Other outlets are seeing what I’m writing and as their interest grows, so does mine. I want to grow. I want to reach more people and I’ve never said that before because I’m supposed to just be happy where I’m at. And I am! You can be happy and want more. You can be so many things all at once.

I want to be successful. I want to grind it out. I want to build a community full of people who are wanting space to be honest with one another. I want it and it feels really vulnerable to be seen as a woman with desires but here I am standing in my honesty with you.

I have desires. You do, too. We’re groomed to push those down and when we vocalize these desires, we’re taking up space. Which is another thing we’re not supposed to do.  We’re inconvenient. We’re disrupting the narrative that they’ve written about us in their minds. But that’s their thing to figure out. It really has nothing to do with you.

But I want.
And I want you to want what you want, too. IMG_3296

Don’t be afraid to be seen. Don’t be afraid to be seen as someone who desires.

XOXO, Lib

Recognizing and Caring for Your Seasonal Depression: An Owner’s Manual

Libby2 Comments

Last weekend I cancelled every plan that I’d made with anyone else and by midday on Sunday, I realized that I hadn’t been outside of the house since Thursday night. I noticed that I’d felt very flat the whole time. I forced myself to go to a Sunday evening meeting that I’d been wanting to flake out on and, guess what, I had fun. As an introvert, alone time holed up in my quiet spaces is good for me and helps me to feel recharged. As someone who is prone to depression, it can be hard to tell the difference between excessive self-care and getting pulled into a crater by a monster that feeds on my feelings and wants at least a part of me to die.

I remember when my therapist pointed out that I seem to always lose myself a little bit more when the season changes into fall. It’s true but I never noticed it because Fall is my favorite time of the whole year and so there’s always a sweetness that floats on top. Fall is also the time of year when my dad died and I thought I might, too. Fall is a season with its own colors and smells and tactile sensations and my body–my whole soul remembers it all. I know that I compare it to a monster tugging on my pant leg but it really is just all these parts of what makes up the core of me that is just remembering what it feels like to have half of you ripped away while you weren’t looking. And these parts of me don’t want to be caught off guard when it happens again. So in their remembering, they brace themselves. No matter how many times I try to tell them that it won’t happen again. I think they can’t hear me.

If this feels familiar to you, it’s important to make a list of resources. Keep a list in your phone. Set reminders in your calendar to get out of the house or just evaluate yourself. Remind yourself of the people that you should call on and if you feel comfortable–ask them to check in on you from time to time. Ask them to force you out of your house every now and again.

photo(23)

Here’s a glimpse at a few parts of my list–things that I’ve actually written down on paper to myself to get myself though days when I’m not sure if I can:

  • Allow yourself to make concessions. Now is not the time for judgement. Now is the time to do what it takes to bust yourself out.
  • Listen to Top 40 Radio and let yourself sing along. Don’t feel bad for feeling giddy when “Despacito” plays for the 4,000th time.
  • Shamelessly Google things that make you feel happy:
    – Baby goat GIFs.
    -Recipes for donuts.
    -Photos of Glennon and Abby.
    -That one photo of a hedgehog that Ryan always sends to you when you’ve had a rough day.
  • Take a shower even if you don’t feel like it. Shave your legs. You like doing that.
  • Limit your exposure to William Fitzsimons music, Lars von Trier films, and the news.
    -Instead, listen to Lady Gaga, it’s fine.
    -Watch Big Mouth on Netflix. It’s FINE.
    -Read only fashion blogs. LOOK, THIS IS A NO JUDGEMENT ZONE!
  • Daydream about extravagant trips you could take. Browse “Portugal” on Airbnb.
  • Commit to leaving the house and really feeling that outside air:
    -Even if it’s just to check the mail.
    -Even if it’s just to buy toilet paper.
    -Better if you walk around the block.
  • Wash the dishes or whatever other mindless task gets you out of your chair.
  • Promise yourself that you’ll drink a glass of water before you drink anything else:
    -And if you don’t do it, don’t worry about it. You’ll be fine.
    -LaCroix counts.
  • Do all of the cheesiest shit that you can think of to up your mood.
    Look. Listen. Look and listen (name that podcast): Cliches are cliches for a reason. Fuzzy slippers. A beautiful cup of tea. Sitting by an open window. Petting a cat. Do it all.

little things, all the stereotypes
they’re gonna help you get through this one night
and there will be a day when you can say you’re okay and mean it
I promise you it’ll all make sense again
I promise you it’ll all make sense again

So, what’s on your list? How do you know when you need to utilize it? You don’t have to answer here but I hope you come up with an answer.
I love you.

September Things

LibbyLeave a comment

So, I’m going to start this off with this song by Mary Lambert. Maybe just keep it playing in the background so that it can color the tone of the rest of this post and every post that I ever write for the rest of my life. Yeah?
“They tell us from the time we’re young to hide the things that we don’t like about ourselves inside ourselves. I know I’m not the only one who spent so long attempting to be someone else. Well, I’m over it. I don’t care if the world knows what my secrets are.”

Oh wow did September just fly by? I know it feels like we say that all the time but this time it feels exceptionally true. I think it’s because, as I type this, currently, Sept 22 (the first day of Autumn) it’s still 90 degrees outside. But after this weekend, Kansas should be in the solid 70’s for a while. I’m excited for that.

 

Autumn is my favorite time of year. Which, okay, is super obvious. It’s like saying, “You know what is really good? Pizza.” But October is my birthday month and I have a tendency to just claim all of Autumn as a gift from the world to me. I take it very personally. Autumn is a very short-lived season where I live so I don’t think it’s unreasonable.

With the promise of Autumn upon us, I bought this dress (which I wore for family photos) and these boots (which make me feel significantly more bad ass than my flip flops do). These look great together, by the way, when I wear the dress unbuttoned over a tank and my leather-paneled leggings.
And I can’t wait to see what comes in my Dia & Co. box! PS If you want to try Dia & Co., it’s totally fun and totally worth it and if you use this link you get $10 off your first box I think? Gosh, I’m not really sure if that’s completely true. Though, I am at least, 50%  sure.

This article on Wit & Delight about the Therapeutic Power of Writing is full of truths that I’ve known to be true. Even if you don’t consider yourself a creative, having a writing practice can be super beneficial to processing.

As someone who has used her art in the past to benefit different charitable organizations (and has plans to do so in the future as well, stay tuned) this article about radical female artists sang to my soul!
IMG_4425

Ryan and I went to the Kansas State Fair like we do every year. In 2011, we went there for our very first date. It was the first time that someone had ever held my hand in public and I was happy, cheesing and thrilled. Anyway, ever since then, we make a point to go every year. Usually we go after work when it’s getting darker. This year we went in the middle of the day. I gotta tell you–the fair in the daytime is not really that fun for us. It’s hot. And there are four billion more people there in the day time. The lines for everything are so long! After walking around for an hour, we sat down on a bench and looked at each other and said, “Are you having fun?” and “You know, I’m really not having any fun at all!” So we left and went to Carl’s Bar with some friends and that was great. We didn’t have fun at the fair but we did bond over how much fun we weren’t having and that was the fun part.

Our Virtual Book Club selected NOTHING to read this month and that has been so beautifully satisfying. I was so excited to get to read all the books that I wanted to in September but instead I selected a 700 page book and I still haven’t even gotten through half of it. It’s good. I’m enjoying it. But I’m kind of thinking about putting it down for a while.

 

Here’s a recipe that I’m going to keep in an open tab on my browser all autumn long, trying to convince myself that I’ll make them but I know I won’t. But maybe you will. And if you do, maybe invite me over.

I’m obsessed with the velvet trend lately you guys. I almost bought these shoes. Still might. Did you see Corissa in this pink velvet dress on her instagram? What do you prefer, crushed velvet or standard velvet (somebody, please, somebody buy those pants)?

We work so hard to find out the best way to love our partners but what about using the Love Languages to love yourself well? Kellory wrote this super informative article to teach us how.

Finally, I was so excited that Bobbi at Wise Women Rising asked to feature my work on her website. Go take a look and bookmark it if you’re looking for encouragement and wisdom from Wise Women.

What was your favorite part of September?

XOXO, Lib

Yesterday, it rained.

LibbyLeave a comment

CW: Discussion of past suicidal thoughts.

Yesterday, it rained.
It rained the kind of rain that makes you nervous to be driving home from another town with a trunk full of groceries. You’re nervous even though you love the thrilling feeling of driving in the rain. Even the hard rain. Even the hard rain in the middle of the day. Even the hard rain in the middle of the day that feels like, if you stepped outside, you’d become more clean and holy than you’ve ever been in your life. Yesterday it rained like that. Yesterday I walked all through it.

I woke up this morning with a familiar feeling that I couldn’t place. I laid in bed and relaxed my shoulders and tried to unzip my heart so I could think back to when I’d felt this alive but this beaten and bloodied all at the same time. And it took me back to college.

It took me back that late night/ early morning when my body was raging with a new and inexplicable energy. This was before I learned that panic attacks were going to be a chronic thing for me and that I was in the midst of one. It didn’t feel anything–other than having been overtaken by a monster. Everything in my body was impulsing me to take the car and drive on the freeway and maybe everyone would just think that you fell asleep and then it would all be done. And then everyone could just breathe their collective sighs of relief and move along.

I sat out there in the middle of the circular lawn that connected the boys’ dorm to the girls’ dorm and clutched the keys in my hands for what felt like hours. I don’t know what I was waiting for. I kept waiting till I was all alone but I just kept seeing people. Couples getting out of cars. Couples getting into cars and never leaving to go anywhere. People walking across the lawn. No one waving at me. To anyone else, and also in retrospect, it was probably obvious that I wasn’t going to do it. But understand that in my mind, it was happening. In my mind I was all but gone.

The sky cracked open and the rain started without warning. The kind of rain that hurts. The kind of rain that was enough to knock myself out of my place and drive me inside where I stripped off my soaking wet clothes and laid naked in my twin-sized bed with the window still open, mist making its way through the screen and covering me. I could listen to the violence and crashing that was happening outside. “Tomorrow, then,” I thought to myself and I tried not to fall asleep.

I remember waking up and feeling truly surprised that my body was there. My room was filled with my things. My skin felt clean and cold from the breeze blowing in the window. I felt tender and bruised and slow-moving but I still felt alive. I remember that I wrote a poem about the way that the rain can clean away and hold down or drown out everything. I remember feeling truly joy-filled that I’d made it through that night. That I’d made it through all alone. Someone knocked on my door and shouted, “Happy Easter!” and I felt like I’d had my resurrection. In a twin-sized, rain-soaked mattress.

That is what I woke up covered in this morning. That familiar feeling of having brought yourself to one of the most painful places you’ve experienced so far and crawling out. Only this time, I hadn’t made it out alone. I could feel Ryan curled up next to me and reaching out one hand to find me like he does every single morning when he’s just barely, barely awake. I had a phone full of texts from chosen family that said, “Just checking in.” I felt more alive today than I did even that Easter morning eleven years ago.

And I will keep doing what it takes to be, stay, and feel alive.

XOXO, Lib

When I dare to be powerful, to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid.
Audre Lorde

A Gratitude Filled Follow-Up

LibbyLeave a comment

This week has been incredible. I just wanted to pop in with a few sundry thoughts that I’ve had since my last post.

The way you’ve all come along side me in the past few days is incredible. I don’t think I understood the joy that I was subjecting myself to when I came out to you all on Monday. I knew that I was opening myself up to criticism. I knew that some people would say, “you go girl” (which is one of my least favorite phrases). I thought that was as far as it would go. But I was selling you short. I didn’t get either of these responses. There are a few people who have been notably silent and while that is not lost on me, I’m okay. Because for the most part, since Monday I have been getting texts, comments on Facebook and Instagram, direct messages, two emails and a partridge in a pear tree. And you’re pouring your heart out to me and I’m just so humbled. And grateful.

Grateful for this community and grateful that I listened to the drumming in my heart that told me that it was time to say something. Time to put words to this. Time to shine light. I’ve gotten so many messages that say, “me too.” Some of you only recently discovered a new part of yourself. Some of you have known your whole lives. A lot of you have been living with secrets. But I’m so glad you’ve told me. I’m so friggin’ glad you told me. It’s been a bit of a lonely summer (albeit an exciting and life-giving one) in this regard. I thought I’d maybe hear from one person who said they could relate to what I’d said. I didn’t expect a dozen. So, thank you.

I know that some of you still don’t really know what to say when someone comes out to you–and that’s okay. We’re all in a perpetual state of learning. I want to share with you something that a friend of mine wrote on Facebook a few days ago:

How to respond when someone comes out to you (from someone who has come out):

1. Make sure the first words you respond with are I love you. Full stop. No buts. Say it first, say it last, and keep saying it. Coming out feels like standing there with no skin on and begging someone not to slap you. Give them some skin back by making sure they know you care. If they’re trusting you with this information, it is clear you’re someone they care about. Honor that.

2. I know this is going to be hard to believe, but you don’t have to tell us how you feel about homosexuality. We know what you think, we’ve been listening to you. Having you reiterate it to us is not going to change who we are, and in that moment it only drives a wedge between us. We aren’t telling you because we want to convince you of something different. We are telling you about this important piece of who we are because we love you. Keep this in mind.

3. It’s okay to say that you don’t understand. It’s okay to say you don’t know what you think or feel. I’s okay to tell us how uncomfortable you are. This is where the I love yous come in handy. Use them a lot, sprinkle them between the I don’t know what to says.

4. It’s okay to ask questions. We probably are hoping you will. There’s likely a whole lot that we don’t have answers to, but we can tell you that. Ask us how we are holding up, how we feel right now. Be open and listen well. Hearing us out makes you a caring person, it doesn’t mean you agree with everything we say.

5. Check in on us! This is likely the most emotionally exhausting experience of our lifetime. Even if we are met with only love and support, we could still use more (we all can!). It takes a lot of energy to interact with everyone’s emotions in response to this truth about ourselves. It takes a lot of energy to stay present in our own emotions and processing. It takes a lot of energy for all of us to just live whole-hearted healthy lives. Let’s support each other while we do that.

And finally, for fun, I put together a playlist of all the girl-songs I’ve had crushes on throughout my life. It’s on Spotify–it’s public and collaborative so add your own!

I love you and I’m grateful for your love.
XOXO, Lib