What's stopping YOU???

The cool thing about getting older is truly the wisdom that comes with having had so many life experiences. It is totally true that I am wiser now than ever. And I am really liking myself so much more now than ever. Have you ever had a moment where you kind think to yourself, "I like me"? And REALLY mean it??? I've had that happen to me this week, honestly, for the first time ever in my life that I can remember.

I see my twenty-something friends struggling both financially and emotionally. Your twenties can be such a hard time--finding your way in the world; planning who you're going to be for the rest of your life and all the pressures that come with it. Younger people feel like time is their enemy and they have to do it NOW or never. And it's funny, cuz whenever I see some old geezer driving five miles an hour under the speed limit I think, "you'd think he'd go a little faster cuz his days are numbered" and when I see some young woman stressed out behind the wheel clearly speeding I think, "What's her rush?"

I have come to understand so much about life, and a lot of this understanding comes from experiencing adversity and overcoming it. That's where maturity begins. I am so impressed with my twenty-something friends--most of them are in school trying to better themselves and set up a good financial future and working full-time. Some have kids already, and yet still independent. Some still live at home with parents, but struggling to get out of their situation. I see the optimism and energy they have and it's so fun to be around them. I think they are amazing people.

I have noticed that something interesting happens to many, many people as they leave their twenties and move into their thirties. I think being in your thirties has got to be the toughest age so far. My thrity-something friends lament to me about still not being married, or rich, still stuck in a dead-end job, and wanting so much more for themselves but somehow not understanding why they don't have everything they say the desire so badly. For my married friends in their thirties, I see them struggle to "have it all"--trying to be mommy and wifey and employee and still stay thin and sexy and eat right and exercise and keep a clean house. Societies' standards for women, AND for men, ruin people and ruin relationships.

We can thank the media for screaming at us everywhere we turn. We are inundated with direct and subliminal messages that we are less than constantly. I used to think that just muting the commercials on TV was enough, but now we've got Facebook ads and pop-up ads for diet this and diet that and you can't even Google a single thing without ads prompting you to "buy this and have better skin" or "eat this not that." It's EVERYWHERE. And no matter how hard you try to eliminate the chatter from your life, it's there. Unless you unplug yourself completely and go live in a cave somewhere.

I've gotten a lot of my current wisdom courtesy of a book by an amazing man named Augusten Burroughs. It's called, "This is How--Surviving what you think you can't." It's a collection of short, personal essays (like the kind you're reading right now) about everything from losing weight to suicide. I've read it backwards and forwards and I've bought copies for two important people in my life.

And their completely different reactions to it spoke volumes to me.

The girlfriend I gave the book to had a very similar reaction to mine--lots of "aha" (also known as "lightbulb) moments. My brother?? His was, "yeah, mostly common sense."

I think that change comes when we have those lightbulb moments of clarity. You know what they are, and how they feel. The thing is, we don't always listen to them. Sometimes they annoy us and make us feel things we don't want to feel. And we have to be receptive to really hearing it.

I love my brother dearly. We have grown close thanks to texting. He lives in California with my parents and he's had a rough life. BUT I see that a lot of it comes from his choices. And I realized something he said was so interesting. His car is 20 years old, and he was lamenting that he had to take it in again and would probably cost around $1000 he didn't have to fix it. I told him, 'maybe it's time to not waste that thousand dollars and save it to buy something newer." I told him, "maybe ride your bike or get a ride from Dad and in six months you can buy something newer. " But here's what upset him--I told him, 'Don't wait for a crisis, when you're stuck by the side of the road somewhere. It's not like you can't see the demise of this car coming. It's astounding it still runs at all!" He responded by saying something to me as if I didn't understand. That it's "not easy."

I felt bad for him and didn't know what else to say, but those last two words ate at me as I thought about what Augusten Burroughs says in his book about willpower and comfort. He basically says that we don't do the things we ought to do to help ourselves because we can't stand the feeling of discomfort. Isn't it true?? We don't like to be uncomfortable and those around us don't like us making THEM feel uncomfortable either, therefore, we don't change and we don't get better.

I'll use myself as an example.

I gave up red meat over a year and a half ago. It was a spiritual decision for me that just came to me one day. It was not easy for those around me to accept. It wasn't like I'd grown a third arm or anything but you'd think I had. It WAS weird for me too. Suddenly, this 4-day a week red-meat eater wouldn't touch a hamburger or a juicy steak cooked just-the-way-I-like-it-on-the-grill. I became an inconvenience and an annoyance, even to myself. If my husband chose to cook steaks, he had to go out of his way to first buy me something else I'd eat and then cook it separately. And while my family had no choice but to get used to this new non-red-meat-eating mommy and wife, for me, it was just about the easiest thing I'd ever done.

Because it was something I WANTED.

I have never for a second complained that I can't eat my favorite soup anymore because it's made with beef broth (french onion) and I actually will ask if the pepperoni on the pizza is pork or not. I don't apologize, and I don't feel bad about it, and I don't lament "poor me". I never have. Because I know that no one is stopping me from eating red meat products--not my doctor (it's not a health issue) or my religion (I don't have one). It is now who I am. I am someone who doesn't eat red meat. The same as someone who doesn't eat octopus either--I don't like it. So what's the big deal? If every fast food restaurant served octopus burgers (maybe that's what's REALLY in those Spongebob crabby patties!!) it would be a big deal. Because people have a group mentality that red-meat burgers are American and society accepts this and supports and encourages this. If I lived in a Hindi country like Nepal, I wouldn't be the odd-man out, I'd be just as common as everyone else.

I'm happy to say that now my family is nonplussed about the whole thing. It's a non-issue. And I'm so proud my family is proud of me. My husband made my heart flutter last weekend when we were at a wine festival that seemed to serve nothing but red meat and carbs--he was worried about me because we were drinking wine and I couldn't find anything to eat. He took me by the hand and said, "C'mon honey, let's go find you something", and he was on a mission to take care of me. I was filled with gratitude and love for this gesture. Not, "You've gotta stop with this silly diet. There's plenty of food here." He didn't make fun of me; he embraced the changes I'd made and honored them.

We need to be conscious of, "who is society anyway??  It depends on where you live. Who hasn't seen the picture of the plus-size mannequins in stores in Sweden? (or is it the Netherlands?) I can't remember, but the point is--it's so unusual it the picture spread like wildfire on the Internet. Seeing it made me uncomfortable, because it reminded me how painful it is to be a girl living in a society that drums into everyone heads that being thin is the most important thing a woman can be. I wanted to move to that country when I saw that picture and I know every American woman felt the same way: understood.

How often do we sabotage our loved ones with our own discomfort?? When was the last time you made a snide remark when we heard someone say, "Not for me, I'm trying to lose weight" or "Just iced tea, I'm trying not to drink so much." We say things like, "Oh come one, what will one hurt?" or something like that. How dare we tromp on someone else's efforts to better themselves? We do it because when the people around us change, it makes US uncomfortable. If they can decline dessert or a third martini and we don't want to, we put THEM down so we don't have to feel bad about the fact that we can't, or don't want to say no ourselves. Our weaknesses are triggered. We aren't sure we really want to say no, or change, but somehow, something in us is triggered when we are confronted with a major change in someone else.

This is so interesting to me. I have become so aware of this lately. My husband told me about a guy he works with who's lost 60 pounds. He has become completely different. He told me, "He's just not really fun to be around anymore. He used to be the fun guy. Now he's so serious." And when he told his co-worker this jokingly, the co-worker agreed. He knows he's different, he knows he's not so much fun anymore, but his health was more important. His definition of "fun" has changed. Fun for him means fitting into clothes he feels good in and not worrying about dropping dead of a heart attack anymore.

When we know what we want, we go and get it. It's not a matter of "easy".

It's not a matter of willpower, Augusten Burroughs says, and he's right. He says, "If willpower is required to achieve this goal, that's how you know you don't want it enough on a deep, organic level...willpower is like holding your breath: you can only do it for so long." So true.

Think about the last time you made a significant change in yourself or your life. How about an insignificant change, like driving a different way to work? How about abiding by the speed limit signs for a change? How about reading at bedtime instead of watching TV? How about not checking your phone every 5 seconds and really listening to your spouse, kids, or friends? These are truly "easy" things to do but yes, you will likely feel discomfort. That doesn't mean you shouldn't do them. Augusten thinks that the more uncomfortable you make yourself, the closer you will get to achieving your goals. And sometimes, the discomfort is not your own--it's dealing with everyone ELSE'S discomfort.

Just food for thought folks.

Big Girls Do Cry

     Every once in a while, when I'm just be-bobbing along in my life, something will happen that will take me back to my previous life in Reedley, or West Covina, or any one of the many places I've lived in, and bring me to tears. For instance, we took a family trip to Minneapolis to the Mall of America this weekend. As we're walking around the enormous and crowded mall, Ian noticed all the strollers, and was getting annoyed trying to dodge them constantly. Before I could respond to him, I had a memory flash of Ian being the little boy in the stroller, feeling overwhelmed and frightened at being thrust about, zig-zagging powerlessly by his mother who was at the helm. I remembered how he used to cry and wanted out. I didn't tell him all this; it was a momentary memory flash that was so vivid, and so emotional, the tears just started to fall. Thank God for sunglasses.  I blinked the tears away, and kept walking, and muttered, "yeah, they're annoying, huh?"

     Last week it happened again. I just started a new job--bartender at the gym our family belongs to. I absolutely love my job, and being the new girl, I'm constantly meeting new co-workers and being introduced to them or, being the talkative one, I introduce myself. I met a new front-desk girl who the moment I laid eyes on her, the same familiar feeling came over me: a vivid memory flash as if my life in Reedley was a movie I was watching. This girl had welcoming wide eyes and a happy smile, and she was petite and giggly. Melanie. My beloved Melanie, whom I miss so very very much. I gasped, literally, and had to tell her right then and there she had a twin out in California. 

     "Really? I do?" she inquired.

     "Yes! You do! And she was my BFF and I miss her SO much!" I excitedly declared to her. "Here! This is her!" and I thrust my iPhone to her and showed her a pic of Melanie. This girl, whom I just met and can't remember her name right now and another woman working with her, leaned over and glanced at the beautiful smiling face of my Melanie. I was beaming.

     "Eh, different nose," the other woman sort of sneered. Clearly she wasn't impressed. The Melanie-twin didn't say anything. Her face didn't give away any clues either.

     "She's 4'11" and wears a size 5 shoe!" I gleefully added. That was the clincher. Both women looked at me wide-eyed, mouths gaping open. 

     "Really? NO WAY!" they took turns saying.

     "REALLY! YES!" I confirmed. 

     "SHE'S 4'11 WITH SIZE 5 SHOE TOO!!"

    "REALLY? NO WAY!" I exclaimed.

     "Yeah", they quietly admitted. It appeared she really might have a twin after all and it was sinking in. How this made her feel, I have no idea. Maybe I should've just kept it to myself. As it happens, a customer appeared and we all dissipated. I walked back to my bar and the tears started again. I didn't want to get to know this Melanie-twin. I wanted my Melanie.

     And so it goes. I had a moment laying in bed in the middle of the night a few nights ago; I'd gotten up to let one of the cats out and sure enough, I have no idea how or why, but I started to cry realizing how much I missed our old pool. We don't have a pool here, and I just can't get excited about summer coming. What are we going to do? Yes, there's a lake, yes, but we don't have a boat, and it's not like you can just go out in your backyard and jump in. I cried and cried thinking about all the friends we'd entertained, all our kids' friends that went swimming there summer after summer, and I was just so sad. It's all over with, can't go back.

     I know my kids feel the same way. I know it's been hard on Tim too. We see old friends in stranger's faces. We feel lonely, and sad, and we've put up a wall. It's a tremendous amount of effort to make new friends. It's hard not to feel that we're somehow replacing them. Nobody can replace anybody. The friends we made in California are in our hearts forever, and we hope they all know that. Thankfully we've got Facebook and texting and phone calls to stay in touch.

     It's been 8 months since we moved here now, and sometimes it gets easier, and sometimes it feels like we're going backwards. The snow has melted but it's still freezing out.  We see the temps in California and remember what we were doing a year ago there. Ian's in track now, and although daytime temps here are still in the 30's, they are running outside. In Reedley, the track kids are running outside too, but it's in the 60's and 70's. Stay with that for a moment and feel how that must feel to Ian. It's very hard.

     Even the happy moments can be tinged with sadness. Ian's driving now. He's almost 16. Any parent who's been at this moment in time knows what I'm talking about. It's surreal, it really is. He's becoming a grown-up right in front of my very eyes. I'm proud of him and sad all at the same time, as my chauffering days are slowly coming to a close. He will no longer need me in a way that has defined me in a lot of ways. This is not easy to swallow. I'm getting used to it, and I will be happy for him. And scared. It's a scary world out there. I won't be able to protect him like I could when he was that little boy in the stroller.

     Watching a young mom with her toddler daughter in the grocery store, the same thing happens. Even if she's angry at not being able to get her child to stop a tantrum, it's instant tears. I think of my curly-blonde cutie who accompanied me like glue to a stamp. We went everywhere together. Now Jenni would rather stay home and watch TV or play Wii while I go alone. No little hand to clutch onto and make sure she's safe constantly. She's a big girl now. 

     Whether it's moving to a new city, new state, or new country, or the kids growing up,  the inevitableness of change can be so hard and so sad. The circle of life goes on, and with it, new experiences and people come into our lives as we grow and change along with it.  I'm so grateful that my life partner, best friend and husband Tim has been along with me the whole way, and we're in it for the long stretch.

     I know it will get warmer, and we know that we have enjoyed the snow. Like everyone else in Wisconsin, we are sick of the cold and can't wait to be able to be outside in a pair of shorts. And yes, as time goes on, and we say less and less, "I just moved here from California". The newness has worn off and we appear to be Cheeseheads like everyone else. Only we aren't. Our accent gives it away every time. And quite possibly the sadness in our eyes. We are trying, people. I'm proud of us. I'm proud of Tim. We are doing okay. 

     As they say, you can take the Kuckelman's out of California, but you can't take the California out of the Kuckelman's.