On Being Bold

The other day, I told someone they were being a dick. I said it to their face. And I don't regret it. It felt both exhilarating and uncomfortable. I was both pleased with myself for confronting them with my feelings and appalled by my insensitivity. I then proceeded to spend hours questioning whether I did the right thing or something wrong. What I could have done better? Who I should I apologize to? And whether or not I'd do it again because that really determined whether or not I should take the whole thing back.

In the end, I told myself to stop sulking, pick up a book, and get over it. It happened. Although I approached it poorly, I would not be apologizing for WHAT I said. But if it came up I would apologize for doing it in front of others. That was rude of me. But I wasn't going to let their douchebaggery continue in front of me. I just couldn't stand by watching it any longer. I had had enough. And I wasn't going to take that kind of crap in the future either. I demand more respect than that. And I expect more from my friends. And if I didn't consider you a friend, I wouldn't have wasted my time telling you that you were acting like I douche bag--I'd just ignore you till you went away. I don't waste my breath on people I don't deem worth it.

Why am I talking about all this? I grew up around passive aggressive behavior. My household was full of little jabs that aren't outright directed at anyone most of the time, but it made others feel like shit without the outlet to fight back because of the indirect nature of the comments. I picked up this type of behavior too. It's very easy to pick up and almost impossible to get rid of. I've been aware of it for about 10 years now. I'm still trying to learn how to be assertive and lose the snide remarks when I'm grouchy.

Now, swinging the other way is so hard, that we often over shoot our goal with the sheer force we use wrenching ourselves out of the ditch we were trapped in. In this case, I over shot my goal of assertiveness to the point of being confrontational. Definitely not my goal, but I still count it as moving forward. Here's why:

When my husband and I started dating, I told him if had relationships fail due to lack of communication on my part--I tended to want to run and hide instead of talk about my feelings. (I was already doing phenomenal just by telling him this and it was only because I was working on changing this about my personality that I was able to share it.)

So we decided that it would be better to be confrontational with each other--if we could find no other way to express ourselves--than to say nothing and not communicate altogether. It was never our goal, but it was still better to yell at each other once I. A while than to risk losing each other due to never talking about our feelings. (And that happens far more often than you might realize. Whole marriages end because one or more parties chose to stop talking about their problems with each other.)

So it is with this attitude that I now approach any relationship I value. Is this a good plan? Probably not. But I know what it's like to live as a "people pleaser." I know what it's like to be unhappy all the time because I never stood up for myself. And I know what it's like to regret never speaking your mind.

After years of weighing the balance, the scale tips in favor of truthful over like-able every time. I'd rather someone hate me for who I am (someone who is a little abrasive), then like me for someone I'm not. Trying to be like-able to everyone you meet is a losing battle and one that I don't have time for. Life is too damn short.

I guess I'm also saying, if you've ever known me long enough (say maybe a couple of years), you know I step on toes every once in a while. And you know I'm not nice about it. But you know that I love you. Because we wouldn't still be talking and sharing our thoughts together if I was afraid of what you'd think of me. <3

A Sea of Emotion

Years ago, I described writing poetry to my friend, Hollie, as immersing yourself in a sea of emotion. Once consumed by the undertow of an emotion you can either let it carry you through to the end of the current [hopefully you don’t run out of air] or you can thrash about and drown yourself in it. I could describe my recent emotional panic as the latter. Trying to kill the emotion before it could kill me.

It was a terrifying experience; I don’t recommend it. The sane thing to do would have been to holler for a life preserver; but my pride kept me from going easy on myself. I even cried out to God to rip the emotions out of my chest. And do you know what He did? He showed me what they stemmed from so I could get over myself. Can you believe that? I ask for a life raft and he tells me I can swim if I’d just calm down.

He was right of course, but I didn't have to like it. It took me several days to climb back up into the boat, shaking my head at my own ridiculous reaction to pain and fear (the fear being nothing more than my own creation). How silly we are sometimes. The whole world seems backwards to us, all the while they’re yelling at us, “Just stand up. You’re in two feet of water.” And then we scowl at them later for their willingness to let us drown.

If you’re sinking, try to stand up. If that doesn't work, demand a life preserver. When they deny you that, ask God to fork it over already because no one else is. And if He happens to tell you to swim, you just might find that you’re the only one who’s going to drag your ass out of the swamp. You’ll resent them for a little while. But if you can manage it, you’ll be stronger than an ogre and as free as the eagles.

If you're curious about my recent journey into the depths of my soul, you can read about it here: aseaofemotion.blogspot.com. It's not pretty.

Butter Friday

Last Friday, I made butter from scratch with the help of modern technology. One late night of random research on how to make whipped cream lead to how to make butter, which lead to what to do with the byproduct, buttermilk. Why did I do this research? It was there. I was curious. Actually, I just wanted delicious whipped cream, but this is internet research. You can’t have JUST the whipped cream recipe. Inevitably online research ends in strange places. I also know how to grow sugar cane now. But we’re getting off topic. Today, I made butter.

I made butter and it was glorious… and messy. I’m wearing a quarter pound of cream, but it was worth it. It was the best right after I made it. Maybe that’s because I spent 20 minutes standing in the kitchen with a powered hand mixer waiting for what felt like an eternity. Suddenly from the soft peaks of whipped cream to chunky butter MY FOOT. That took a solid 5 minutes after it was whipped cream for it to get remotely heavy. If you don’t notice your whipped cream is done by then, you’re doing it wrong. It only took two minutes to make whipped cream out of one cup of heavy whipping cream. TWENTY MINUTES for butter. There’s a big difference.

The butter was ready just in time for dinner, which we proceeded to drench with butter. I’d wager we used about a half a cup of butter on our potatoes, biscuits and bread. Even the chicken got buttered. It was delicious. I’d do it again. Although, I now understand why someone would invest $400 into a large mixing contraption. (Wouldn’t we all love to turn it on and walk away?) In the meantime, I highly recommend doing that once in your life. The most satisfying part (other than licking your fingers) is squishing it in between your fingers. Why? Try it. Then we’ll talk.

P.S. I got a mixer! It's 30 years old... but I got one. ;D