Tuesday, December 31, 2013

On Weddings

First of all, let me promise you here, before you roll your eyes, that the next six months will not be filled with wedding planning updates and bridezilla-style rants (oh, did I mention I got engaged on the 23rd?). But I feel that I do need to establish a firm stance on what I've observed and witnessed in my first week of betrothed life. 
 
To modern American culture, I give a big Screw You! A lovely close friend of mine sent me a engagement care package with a few bridal magazines in them, and I also received "the wedding box" from Derrick's aunt, and inside that box was a wedding planning book. I quickly became disgusted by both the magazines and the book and now understand more than ever why divorce is so prevalent in our society. Midway through the wedding planning book, full of great tips on invitation wording, time lines, sticking to budgets...smack in the middle was a whole chapter on losing weight before the big day. Um, what? Why? What does this have to do with wedding planning at all? The fact that this one day, eight hours or less really, is so flippin' important that we must calorie count and schedule extra workouts to get the perfect bod for all your family and friends and new hubby to see, is completely insane! How about we do those things irrespective of a wedding date because we want to be healthy! Not because we want to slim down for a day. Ugh. Not only that, but the bridal magazines and google image searches make it utterly impossible to have the "perfect" wedding day for normal oafs like me. The women in those magazines are so airbrushed its a wonder they still look human, and every page is filled with fantasy images of romantic gazebos strung with yards of whimsy fabrics and delicate lights followed by honeymoon ideas that would drag most new couples directly to bankruptcy. How did we get here? What happened to the church basement reception? The celebration amongst friends? More importantly, what happened to the marriage?

In conversations about wedding planning so far, my most common response to just about any question has been, Oh, I don't really care. The reason? Because I hate that this is what weddings have become. I hate our culture for forcing us to try to live out impossible dreams spending every penny we have on one day with little attention paid to what happens on day two or week two or year two of being wed. Now don't get me wrong, all of this firey wrath toward our culture's misdirection of matrimonial magic will not somehow lead to a schlumpy, jeans-and-t-shirts wedding. We will throw a nice party. We will bring together all of our family and friends, and we will eat, drink, dance, laugh, hug, cry, and party epically. But we do it because the life that follows the day is worth the celebration not because the celebration somehow defines the life that follows.

We will have good food and drink to share but not because I want to flaunt the fact that we can afford it but rather because with that much celebrating, people will get hungry and need to eat. We will have good but somewhat unusual music because it represents who we are and the things that we love and share. We will have close friends and relatives stand with us not to show off how cool we are and how many friends we have (have you seen that trend recently with the 12+ attendants - silly) but because they are dear to us and we want them close by when we seal one of the most significantly life altering decisions of our lives. The rest? Well, the rest I really just truly don't care that much about. I'm sure there will be decorations and lights and details and personal touches that will have to be added in, but they won't define the day, and they certainly won't define our lives together. 

So screw you society requiring weddings to be just so to be "right". And screw perfection and pomp and tying tiny little bows on hundreds of invitations and giveaways and programs. And screw matching fonts and pantone color numbers and identical shoes and dresses and suits. My attention is focused on the fact that Derrick and I will be married rather that just get married.

Sunday, December 01, 2013

Stress Isn't Sexy

Let me just preface this post by saying stress happens. Trust me, I'm one of the first people who can, from first-hand experience, justify this being said. There are just times when freakouts, tears, meltdowns, and all out wig-outs are perfectly warranted. However, as a general rule, I have come to learn that this should not be, well, the general rule. Here's my probably skewed, far-too-closely-removed, just-been-there-just-done-that perspective on stress from both the internal and external view.

To those suffering from acute amounts of stress and the mismanagement thereof (and I speak as a recently recovering stress-addict myself), stress is not a badge of honor. Now, I know what you're about to say (because I've said it). I don't 'honor' stress! I know you don't. I didn't think I did either. But whether or not you actually consciously think/say it or not, here's the logic.

Stress is hard.
I'm stressed because I have so much to do.
I have so much to do because someone has entrusted me with all of it.
I must be pretty good at things to be entrusted with so much.
I will do all of the things because I know I can.
I am stressed because I do all the things.
Stress is hard.

Do you see what I did there? There is no fatal flaw in this logic necessarily. In fact, perhaps all of those things are true. But somewhere in there, sometimes, maybe even just a little, there's a hint of pride that slips in there. Something like, the stress is good because it results from me being good at things and people trusting me, therefore I should be stressed. And that, friend, is honoring your stress which may result in you wearing it with a little pride.

Stress has more to teach us than this, though. Stress does not control you. And your response is naturally (again, because it has come out of my own mouth), But I can't change my situation. Or, My job is doing this to me. Or, If I don't do this, it will fail. The objects of your stressful life are merely that. Objects. Or maybe people or time or a situation. And if they are only that, then they are, indeed changeable, avoidable, or fixable. Now before you launch into an all out less-than-logical-because-it's-emotional argument with me, I get it. I understand how you feel and I know why you're thinking what you are. But I am not the Pollyanna, puppies-and-rainbows, be joyful in all things girl you're thinking I am. In fact, more often than not, I describe myself as an ambitious worst-case-scenarioist at best. But here's the deal. If you're ever going to find a way to live a lower stress life, you're going to have to change the way you think about stress and who you consider to actually be in control here. 

A very valuable word should enter into your vocabulary: no. You may have a lot to do. People see this and ask you to do more because you're pretty good at doing stuff. You think you can so you say yes. And then you're more stressed than you were before. Sometimes things just have to give. For me, blogging primarily fell by the wayside as I floundered away in my stress. Some relationships took a hit. Some of the quality of my work began to get shaky. Because I could not, in fact, do it all. Enter the glory of the word no. By saying no to coordinating the office gift exchange, I have freed up an hour or so to, say, write this blog entry. By saying no to staying late at work one night a week, I can workout instead. By saying no to an exciting offer to work on the next big visionary project at work, I get to spend an extra night with Derrick. By saying no to obsessing over timelines, I allow for the flexibility that is required sometimes when working with others. Each time I say no, I find something that I can say yes to. Priorities begin to shift, productivity and quality in many cases goes up, and I am free of the weight that comes with being the woman who can do all of the things. This is control, folks.

One more lesson from stress for the road: Stress isn't sexy. That's right. I said it. When you're stressed, people honesty don't know what to do for you. They don't know how to help you. And in most cases, there isn't any actual way that they can. But they try. They let you rant on the phone, hug you when you cry, wait patiently to get to see you on your mega-stressed terms. It's no fun. It makes them feel bad. It makes them consider keeping their distance. It makes them walk on eggshells to try not to make it worse. Your stress has the potential to harm and change others. For some of you, this news is more stress inducing than reducing in this moment. Now again, there are times that you just need someone to lean on, and there will be times that people you know will need you. But when you always choose to live in high-stress mode, you're not sexy. 

It's time we take a good look at our lives, and realize that stress is not honorable, uncontrollable, or good. It harms you, it harms others, and it can serve as an awful ugly addiction that we refuse to believe can be managed. But it can, and it must be. I have started by making small choices here and there to take back control. Some of them were easy. Some of them have challenged me to rethink everything. But I'm starting to feel sexy again, as if I can be someone that acts more like a people magnet than repellent. And I feel like I know who's in control here, and it's not my job, my dissertation, or my travel schedule. And I know that stress cannot be linked to pride. Doing all of the things does not make me a superhero. It just makes me cranky. 

So here's to a low-stress, high-choice, sexy December that I intend to enjoy to the fullest.