noticing

 

We are in that typical New England time of year where we oscillate between desperation that it is still so cold out, and unbridled joy when the sun feels like we're already in mid-summer. Neighbors we haven't seen in months are suddenly outside on their annual dog walks. New noises drift through open windows. I am getting excited to have some outdoor plants this year. We don't have any private outdoor space, just a little bit of gravel around our parking spot and then a large porch connected to the shared entrance to our building. I want to put some pots of flowers out (maybe zinnias? and marigolds?) and attempt some tomatoes as well. I am being patient, though. Most of the time, the first warm day hits and I plant everything too early, dooming myself to watch their slow and anticlimactic demise. Instead, I've been taking my dog walks past the houses with the best, most cared for gardens and front porches. Like my own personal groundhogs, I'm waiting for the first sign of freshly bought mulch or clay pots pulled from the garage, the first hopeful tray of grocery store pansies sitting in the driveway waiting to be repotted. These garden houses certainly know better than me, and I'm trying to notice and follow their lead. 

I spend a lot of my time running around from one thing to the next, so much so that sometimes it's easy to miss that the underlying feeling of frustration underneath is my impatience that this is also a season of waiting. When I take the time to notice, I can see that both Chris and I have landed in a place we used to dream of. This June will mark five years since we've been together, and while that is such an incredibly small percentage of a life it is also a huge percentage of the time we've been adults. It feels like we've made it to the end of a chapter, and have checked off a lot of dreams: getting married, getting a dog, Chris working at a fire department, me skating in shows and coaching full time, an ambitious road trip honeymoon. I want to not just notice but to revel in these achievements, these things that felt so out of reach just five years ago when we whispered them to each other. But it's hard to revel in something when I am also finding myself anxious for the next step, itchy and restless and desperate for some direction so I can know who I am in the world. 

I am noticing that I spent a lot of the beginning of my twenties in survival mode, desperate to become someone and changing rapidly as I discovered who that was supposed to be. My inner world has settled more now that I am 26, and I feel more capable of looking at the whole picture of the person that I am. There are so may pieces I am dissatisfied with; how I cry almost every time I say what I think, how I can get so angry and combative before I've even noticed myself starting to get frustrated. I'm proud of the person I've become, but I also think I'm not always a good friend. I would like to be more level headed. I would like to feel like more of a grown-up to myself. 

This noticing sucks so much more than noticing when the first crocuses pushed through the snow, or when you can first smell the wet dirt in March. I hate it and I want to push it away. It's not a task that I can add to my monthly list, or an aesthetic little reset I can make a tiktok about. There is no quick fix. While I know it's good to look into the deeper recesses of yourself, I also just DON'T WANT TO and I really hate that in so many ways I am the problem. hi! It's me. 

I am noticing what makes me uncomfortable and what makes me comfortable. I'm noticing the thousand ways each of those is good and each of those is bad. I am noticing that I am in a season where I need to listen a lot more than I usually do, and I'm noticing it's high time I challenged my gut reactions, old dreams, ways things have always been, and the inner dialogue that tells me if I'm behaving the way I want to. I am taking the time to notice what is next, to notice where I am going, instead of racing there and misunderstanding the path. Someday, I would love to turn 36. I would love to have decade-old friendships and feel like todays demons are well behind me. And I would love to be in-tune enough with myself and with the world to know when a season is coming, and to sense when it is time to plant. 

I can't move on until I say something about 2022

 

I've been working on a post that adequately sums up 2022--a year that was equally full of the most heartbreaking moments of my life, as well as the most joyful--and also explains every way in which I intend 2023 to be better. To be fair, I didn't intend for 2022 to be so challenging. January of last year, I was also journaling and planning blog posts and getting ready for a busy year of achievements, new hobbies, travel, better habits. But some years are just like that--unexpected avalanches of challenge and grief. I think it would be more fair if these moments were spread out, like mini snow squalls of unhappy things spread over a decade. I guess we have about as much control over that as the actual weather, though. 

Amongst everything else, there is something about this year that has felt so solidly grown up, so adult. When something goes wrong, there is no one to tell, no one to get. I can (and do) tell people about it, but there's a big difference between retelling a story and leading with "help!". I also find myself using the word "adult" more than any other adults I know. Somehow, I am constantly looking for the grown-ups, trying to mimic their behavior and walk in their shoes in a way that definitely comes off less cute and more naïve than when actual children do it. I wonder if large, out-of-our-control circumstances is what helps people turn the corner from looking for the grown ups to being looked to. Alongside the anxiety and grief and weight of this year, I've also felt a perverse sense of pride, even of joy, in how we (my husband and I) are able to handle things. An unexpected move and six weeks living apart, my partner's concussion, loosing grandparents, and loosing someone who was basically my brother in law unexpectedly a week into our own honeymoon. The shitty circumstances remained shitty but I am still proud of how we reacted. We took actions, came home early from trips, were reliable and present and made ourselves voice our thoughts. We showed up--dressed appropriately, with tote bags of food and markers for guest books--and stayed afterwards to clean up, like the grown ups we apparently are. Is this really what we were looking forward to all these years?

Because everything about growing up is gray and nuanced, it would be unfair to write bout 2022 and only list the circumstances that were hard. This year also held a jam-packed, adventurous summer, making a lot of art I felt strongly about, moving to a new town and feeling like it is exactly where we wanted to be. This was the year I got to marry the man that stood by me and picked me up and made every hard circumstance of this past year doable. Our wedding was beautiful and fun and very us, and we cried the whole time. 

My whole life, I have felt both incredibly excited and incredibly terrified to grow up. I was one of those kids that was always a bit too grown up; prim and proper and obedient, never overly excited and (predictably) too wrapped up in the approval of adults. I never felt like a kid, so imagine my confusion when I hit birthday after after birthday and instead of finally feeling "my age," I started feeling younger and younger. I became somehow more inept and confused, and way less impressed with my own capabilities.  I have spent this first half of my 20's feeling remorse for all the ways I wasn't more wild when I was younger, feeling embarrassment for all the ways I haven't felt more grown up, and desperately throwing myself on the hamster wheels of "catching up" and "good enough."

Perhaps this year was a chance to stop and realize that life comes at you too fast to worry so much about being on top of it. Our lives are often messy, chaotic, unsatisfying; sometimes it's our fault, and often it's not. Life is just all the things, constantly. The parts of my life that often feel the most embarrassingly non-grown up didn't affect how I showed up with my family as we were grieving, or how Chris and I planned our wedding and life together. You don't have to be emotionally mature to clean the house, but you definitely do to attend funerals that really shouldn't be happening. Or host a huge party and not yell at anyone. 

In the mundanity that's (luckily) filled our lives this fist part of 2023, I'm enjoying a sense of feeling grown up in more gentle ways. Throwing flyers in the recycling instead of on the table when I check the mail. Lighting a candle to make dinner. I am grateful to be enjoying these things. To not be worried if I'm too young or too old, but just to be who I am, where I am, carving out some space for myself amidst the noise. 

Intentional Living: Less Aesthetic, and More Mess

#1: A fun, special weekend breakfast at home. Fun brunch vibes!

(Sharing this post along with some more fun ways I've been trying to "live intentionally" this summer).

A perpetual theme in my thinking, Youtube watching, journaling, and existential crisis-ing is my deep desire to be living an intentional life. 

So much of life feels completely chaotic, and this year for me personally has been the most chaotic yet. In many ways, though, I'm incredibly grateful that this string of unfortunate events took place this year. For the first time in my entire life, I feel more equipped to handle it. Chris and I are stable, and good. We have strong friendships. We're both relatively comfortable at work, and have control over our work lives. We've started to feel like real adults, and with that our capacity to deal with challenges has grown larger. 

Moving in with Chris was a milestone in my life for many reasons, but one of the most challenging aspects of it at the time was what a strong break it marked between me living my life the way I wanted to, and me living in a way that my upbringing expected. Growing up in not just a conservative Christian household, but also a fundamentalist-leaning homeschooling community, moving in with a boyfriend carried the weight of not just a life change but of moral failure. At the time, I was still doing my best to be a good Christian and form my life in that way. While I didn't believe moving in together was wrong, I also spent a lot of my emotional energy coming up with ways to defend myself. 

#2: Always having fresh flowers (once a bouquet starts to die, I pull the ones that still look good and make these mini bouquets).

While we hadn't tried to hide it (and actually, had explicitly told our close church friends before we moved in together), a pandemic meant that it took six months before most of the people in my home church "knew." A lot of people were upset. We received heartbroken texts, and went to dinner with one couple who told us everything we were doing wrong. Fast forward a year, and we were engaged and starting to plan a wedding. We reached out to a church I had been to get married, and received a double sided pdf in response. The letter held many bullet points (and interestingly, only one bible verse) and demanded an apology from me. It stung. I felt abandoned and alone by a church family I had tried for a really long time to please. 

These scenarios, which all occurred within a year and a half of each other, were monumental shifts for me. They marked the first time in my life where I chose myself--my needs, wants, and desires--over the life that has being handed to me and expected of me. I grew up with a lot of expectations around me, as well as a lot of black and white thinking over what the "right" way to be was. Even when these expectations didn't seem to fit me (and to be honest, they often didn't), I tried my best to change myself for them rather than finding a different way. I did this as a kid of course, but I also did it as an adult...for way too long. 

#3: Cooking with both smaller portions of meat, as well as less days where we eat meat. This veggie stir fry has been a go-to this summer! Cheap, cleans out the fridge, and doesn't heat up the apartment. :)

The past few years have felt like crash-landing into an adult life where I actually have options. It's been exhausting, and to be honest, a little traumatizing. But while the last two years haven't exactly looked like a That Girl video waxing poetic abut the importance of routines, I can't imagine a way I could have lived these years more intentionally. In all the mess, this season of life meant me finally getting real about what kind of future I wanted. It was about me challenging old beliefs, and standing up to people and systems I had previously believed it a sin to question. For the first time in life, this season I embraced change and discovering new ways of looking at the world. We don't talk to talk about the mess, but I think the mess has way more to do with "living authentically" then we care to admit. 

Perhaps our views on living intentionally need to shift. Perhaps it's less morning routines and fruit infused water and more hard conversations, setting boundaries, and challenging yourself in therapy. Maybe living intentionally is making scary, annoying, and even mundane choices. I love an aesthetic "Sunday Reset" vlog as much as the next person (and honestly, maybe more), but we all must realize deep down that changing your sheets don't actually change your life. The most important stuff isn't the pretty stuff. 

As we've worked through everything the past few years, I have felt a lot of grief, a lot of anger, and a lot of disappointment. I've realized my self-esteem was based largely on what others think of me (a pretty unstable foundation). I have felt the inclination to hide from family, to hide from the world, just to avoid getting rejected. Carrying all of this has felt so heavy. 

#4: Taking a second to CHILL. I've been trying to be very aware about my energy lately, and turns out, after running around out in public for a few hours I am STRESSED and need to sit on the bed or the couch, have a fun drink, and just zone out or else my brain becomes mush. 

As the waves seem to settle, and a new season emerges, I'm preparing to feel a lot more satisfaction in this life we are living. We are only two months away from getting married! We are all moved in to our new apartment. Bear is behaving significantly better than he used to. We have fantastic friends that have stuck by us through all the sticky parts. And we're ready to live with a lot more JOY. 

Because it's a huge gift to get the chance to build a life. Though it feels like I'm starting from scratch, it's a gift to have a fresh start and to get to explore all the ways I could be. The world is truly brand new: are we sleeping in on Sundays or going for a run? Happy hours with friends or brunches at home? Beer or wine on a Friday night? Trash tv or curled up with a book? Where do we get the news? When do we read the news? How do we budget? Who are our friends? What are we valuing in the world, when we aren't told what to value? How are we showing up for our communities, when we aren't told who to show up for? What do I think and want, when I finally get to tune out decades of other voices?

#5: Going on way more fun, little adventures that remind us we are ALIVE and DOING THINGS! Bonus points if they include friends, and double bonus points if they include something local we haven't done before (this was a Portland Sea Dogs game!).

I'm excited to find out. I suppose if I had to have a quarter life crisis, I'm grateful for where this one led me. Here's to continued question asking, intention setting, deep thinking, and a lot more spontaneous fun in the next 3/4 of my life. 

25?!

 

Last week, I turned 25! So weird. So fun! But honestly, crazy. There is something really interesting about being, inarguably, in your "-mid-20's." 25 seems to hold some kind of grown-up gravitas that 24 just didn't. 

I love getting older. I can truthfully say, even a pandemic later, that every year has been better than the last. I would never want to go back in time to live at a previous age: with each year that passes, I feel myself becoming more like the "me" I'd really like to be. Bumps and all, I am 1000% happier with myself, than I have ever been. I don't just mean "happy"--there are definitely days/weeks/seasons/years where I am depressed, or just not bright and positive. I mean happier with who I really am, as a person. Like I like myself. That's a new feeling! And one I hope just keeps getting better with age. 

Today at 25, I barely recognize myself. The past two years have held the most growth of possibly any other time in my life. I feel unrecognizable to my 22 year-old self...let alone my 20 or 15 year old selves. The past year held so many wonderful things and so many hard things. I am grateful for all the people that were a part of it, and let me lean on them. But also: I am very proud of myself. I am proud of who I am entering 25. There is not a single moment, of a single day, that I am not astounded by my good fortune in life turning out this way. Someway, somehow, I've ended up in a life story that I think is pretty cool, and as a person that I think is pretty cool, too. It's humbling. 

I was listening to a podcast recently and they were talking about how often we are sold this narrative of "Successful people are successful because they are ambitious, work hard, and refuse to give up!" In reality, however, there are lots of talented people involved in any art form or any industry....and not all of them are on the top or "successful" in our narrow definition of the word. Being "successful" requires ambition, hard work, a refusal to give up, and a lot of chance, luck, and circumstance. It's not going to shake out the same way for everyone. 

But what do we do with that information, as ambitious people? For me, I'm choosing to find a lot of freedom in it. I can own both my successes and my failures, but I also don't have to beat myself up for either of them. Sometimes I will fail because of my own short-coming, and sometimes I will fail because of a circumstance. They are both okay. They are both great! They both are opportunities for growth. 

At 25, I want to move forward into allowing myself more space for that concept. More space to be ambitious and ask for the things I want, as well as more space to be honest about what really doesn't feel good for me. I want to show up and challenge myself towards growing into the type of creative I want to be, while also knowing that who I am as a whole person today also holds incredibly value. At 25 I want creative projects, work, school, learning, studying, building, as well as deeply nurtured friendships, a precious marriage, time for books and crafts, dinner in the oven, long hikes with Bear, art on the walls, and flower gardens. Time, space, and openness of heart and mind towards all the things that make life worth living. I want that elusive "balance", or perhaps more accurately, the ebb and flow. 

I am setting this time aside to be proud of how far I've come, and to hold some hope that there is still so much time for a thousand more crazy, wonderful things. Here are a few things I am proud of myself for, in the past 25 years:

• Taking a real look at my skating self when I turned 18, and acknowledging that if shows were something I wanted to do, I'd have to make some changes. 18 year-old me knew nothing, had no connections, had no money, but honestly was pretty ballsy. I switched coaches, joined different teams, trained 6 days a week, watched countless videos, and talked to everyone, all while working full-time with a part-time job on the side. 3 years later I got a show! And was a fundamentally different skater. Honestly, I'm amazed I did this. 

• Always having a very clear gut feeling about whoever I was dating at the time, that I trusted. Even when I was with certain people longer than I "should" have been, I always knew what was and wasn't going to be a good situation. I trusted that feeling when it meant not being with people, and I trusted it when I met Chris!

• Moving out! Moving out was a really, really scary experience for me. It was emotionally heavy and anxiety-inducing to tell my parents what I was doing. But it was also the single best decision I've possibly ever made, and really led me to feel so much more myself and therefore just so much happier. Forever grateful for making that happen. :)

• Being a really good paraeducator. I don't think I talked about it on the blog much, but I worked as a para at high school for two years. It was so hard, and I was only 19 when I started there. My student was pretty high need. But I dug really deep, took lots of feedback, and I know I did a really good job. That job was an awesome experience, and sometimes I get nostalgic about it. 

• Running 4 miles last summer haha. I know that is nothing for some people, but I used to not like running, and have always struggled with pacing and distance. Running 4 decent miles was huge! As well as the fact that I am finally at a point where I really enjoy and crave running. 

• Starting to coach full-time. I fell into coaching a lot post-COVID, and then this spring I made the leap to make coaching and skating my full-time thing. Very, very proud of this, and honestly never expected it. 

• Being pretty great in the kitchen. Growing up with a mom that was always baking and cooking definitely helped, but over the past two years I've also experimented with lots of new recipes, and read quite a few blogs and books on food. I feel pretty confident to try basically anything, and to know that I can salvage most things. I love to cook, I love to bake, and I love the canning I've been able to do. Part of it just feels innate, and I really love that. 

• Having a really strong relationship with Chris. I'm proud of how neither of us played any games when we started dating, how we've both always been honest about what we wanted and needed, the way we talk about things that aren't working, and how much fun we have together. I'm very proud of just the healthiness of it. 

• Outgrowing old opinions. I used to be a far more judgmental person than I am today, and I had a lot of black and white thinking. I would love to write more about this at some point, but for now: I am proud of moving myself past that. I'm proud of how even when I was in the midst of it, I was open enough to entertain other ways of thinking, and how that listening eventually led me to re-evaluate some strongly held beliefs. I'm definitely a kinder person today, because of it. 

• I'm proud of being more fun that I was growing up. Hear me out: I used to be really uptight. I am still very uptight! But I'm much better at relaxing and letting myself enjoy things now. Life's a lot better that way!

• I'm proud of finishing MCT, the choreography training by American Ice Theatre. Another thing I haven't talked about a lot, but I'm really proud of not only taking the course but the work that I put into it. I'm especially proud of my final piece. 

• Having good taste in beer! I am weirdly delighted in my decent but rudimentary knowledge of beer, and I'm proud of how much I like it and like to talk about and seek out new ones. 

• Going to therapy! Even leading up to March of 2020 I was feeling so, so low, and the pandemic really exacerbated it. I am so glad I started going to therapy early on. It's been life altering and so, so helpful (if any part of you thinks you should go...you should go!).

25 is the year I'll get married! And maybe run a 10k? Do a new ice show? Move somewhere new? I'll definitely go for winter hikes and keep focusing on coaching, choreograph some fun stuff and make lots of food. It's going to be a good year. :)

changing & questioning

How much can I coach? Where will I coach?

Will I skate in shows this year? Next year?

Do I want to be skating in shows this year? With everything going on?

Do I need another job?

Do I need multiple other jobs?

Should I go back to this old job, but make it better?

Should we move?

Will Chris be working from home FOREVER?

If he is, should we make a big move?

Is all the discomfort at church a sign that people need to change? Or that I need to change?

If I think differently than I did a few years ago, have I sold out? Or grown?

What do I do, now that I have no close friends in the area that I grew up in?

Now that I have the option to return to certain things, isn't it mean if I want to stop?

What if "getting back to normal life" fills me with a lot of dread?

These questions have been pounding around my head, in varying degrees and forms, since June. I don't have answers to any of them, but with fall right around the corner I'm feeling the pressure to.

 

Pre-covid, 2020 already held a lot of changes: moving in with Chris. Setting big goals together for the next few years. Coaching as my primary source of income. Knowing that the current pace I was working was not sustainable, and had to change.

During, but not directly because of, covid, has also held a lot of changes: I'm starting school this fall! We have a dog. I'm going to therapy. My closest friends are not local to me anymore. I'm questioning how I fit inside the church. 

To me, these changes and questions are all inextricable from each other. It feels like I can't answer one, without answering them all. I have been holding back from moving anything but the absolute bare minimum of work forward, for fear of pursuing the wrong thing too much, and trapping myself. 

I have busied myself writing out "dream schedules" on slips of scrap paper at work. Mystical, ridiculous schedules and dream lives, where I magically am an established coach at multiple rinks, I have plenty of time and money for school, working only a few hours a week at a second job is more than enough, and I can easily incorporate lots of time with my new, close friends. None of these fantasies are based in reality right now. And while I love making lists and dreaming of the future, doing this while I'm incapable of making even one decision about what the next few weeks should hold, doesn't seem healthy. 

Though I try to fool myself, most of these questions aren't about schedules and numbers. They're about saying yes to new things in the face of uncertainty, and saying goodbye to things I used to love. They're about taking risks and moving on. About opening myself up to making, potentially, very wrong decisions, or not seeing anything come from ideas I've floated out into the world. I am very afraid of regretting things in my future, and I know I tend to avoid it by changing as little of my present as possible.

We have seasons of life that are pretty neutral, and then seasons of life that are very transitional. I hate the transition. I hate the gray area. I keep finding myself thinking back on 2-3 years ago, when my life was extremely fulfilling and full of new experiences, but overall, didn't hold a lot of big changes.Conversely, I keep imagining 5 years in the future: this is behind us. I've booked a yoga retreat in another country with a close friend. I might be married, or at least, a lot more settled into living with Chris. I'm seamlessly managing coaching and school and working on new project that I'm excited about. I feel grounded, and confident. 

While being stressed about all the changes with work and routines is real, I also know that most of this is just me being scared to change, even in the face of desiring that change. I want closer friendships. I don't want the awkwardness of making new friends. I want to coach more. I don't want the risk of not having another job. I want large chunks of time for school and projects. I don't want the income drop. I want less anxiety in my day-to-day life. I don't want to admit that I can't do everything. 

I am not who I was 3 years ago, and I am not who I will be in 5 years. I may not love these transitions, but fighting through them is what gives us those yes! I feel good right now moments. Regardless of what work does or doesn't happen, regardless of what friends I do or don't make, regardless of any timeline I end up on, I can keep moving forward. 

I can make the first friend move.

I can pitch new coaching ideas. 

I can apply for jobs in and out of shows. 

I can block of time for school, 

for long walks,

for yoga,

for reading,

for going out,

for new projects, 

for sitting and doing nothing. 

I can actually do the exercises that help me feel less anxious.

I can keep throwing things at the wall, seeing what sticks, re-thinking, and keep making changes. 

While a global shutdown has made all of this seem more desperate and acute, a part of me thinks I would have ended up in this space, anyways. This is a season of change. Of questioning what I want, and what I think, so that I can be a better and truer me in the next season. Growing pains are tough. But this season holds a lot of hope, too. 

On Being Between Contracts, and Worrying Instead of Enjoying.

Being between contracts might be the only part of skating professionally I wasn't prepared for. 

I got home from Miami two weeks ago. The day I got back, Chris and I went to our favorite brewery, and my parents met us there. That same week, I grabbed dinner with a very close friend. We had family from out of town visit for a a few days, and we spent a lot of time looking at old photos, making cake, and eating donuts. I spent an easy-going Easter at home with lots of little cousins, Chris, and one of my closest friends (and her baby!). Being home is utterly fantastic.

But the thing is, so is being away.

What feels especially significant this time around is the absence of a departure date. Chris and I were reflecting a few weeks ago that this is the first time in our entire relationship that we don't have an end-date. I got my contract offer for Sea World in early August, only 6 weeks after we met. We planned everything in a 'we have until November 1st' frame of mind. I came home from Sea World with another signed contract, and the knowledge that I'd be flying out again on March 7th.

Now though? I'm just home. Maybe for a little? Maybe for a while? No clue.

So what do I do with myself? How does one make a plan, with no timeline to fit the plan into? Do I relish the free time, and spend it with friends while I can? Do I lay low and save money? Do I find another job?

On Tuesday, I walked by one of my favorite coffee shops in Portsmouth, and noticed their 'hiring' sign in the window. On Wednesday, I emailed them and scheduled an interview. Thursday, I interviewed for all of 10 minutes and left with a job offer. I'm excited to start. I really like working, and I happen to really enjoy this spot. It's in Portsmouth, and I'm already fantasizing about becoming best friends with the owner, and walking across the street for drinks after work. I'm hoping it will be the perfect mix of flexible and fun. But is it a failure to fulfill the starving artist trope and become a barista? What if this is me settling? What if this is the beginning of me becoming a broke, going-nowhere creative, stuck making coffee for practical people that went the traditional route and now make enough money to regularly afford fancy coffee?

I know that that's crazy. I know that, for anyone pursuing an abnormal, creative life, this is incredibly normal. Skating is a small, seasonal industry. It takes time to get your footing. I've gotten two contracts; I will most likely get more. At the end of the day, it matters that I work hard, and it matters that I pursue what I love: it doesn't matter how many side jobs I have to pick up.

I keep coming back to one thought, though: what do I tell people? When someone inevitably asks the dreaded question 'what do you do?', what do I say? Do I answer with my ambitions, and say I coach and skate professionally? Do I keep it simple, and say I make coffee? Do I lengthily explain that I'm currently between contracts? Do I crack a joke and avoid the subject?

I realize that I'm the only one worrying about this. That that question is filler, an ice breaker. But if I can't even tell my Uber driver what I do, what do I tell myself?

Because really, that is the root of the problem. The only voice demanding to know what I'm doing, is my own. It's unsettling, to not be able to answer yourself. On any given day, I have no idea what I'm doing. So it's no wonder that as big and defining a question as what do you do makes me queasy.

Maybe, though, the problem isn't the question. Maybe, the problem is that I'm answering it the wrong way. Hopefully, as a well-balanced, functioning adult, I 'do' more than just the things that make me money. Contract or not, what I actually do doesn't change that much. Contract or not, I still work on my skating. I process life with my mom. I call my friends for long chats. I insist to myself that I'm going to start running. I cook with a lot of vegetables, and very few spices. I get excited to explore new places. I go for walks when I need to clear my head. I call Chris before I go to sleep. I apply to jobs constantly. I attempt to make it to church. I am never without my planner. I journal a lot.

Those things all paint a better picture of me, and what I do, than any job description ever could. I want to be a full-time pro-skater and coach, with consistent contracts, and plenty of students. That is what I'm working towards; that's my dream, my end goal. But when I look at the life I want, those goals don't even make up half of what I want to do. Figuring out how to be 'successful' at skating means the world to me, but if that's all I were to accomplish, I would be dissatisfied with my life.

What I really want to do with my life is more than skate, and frankly, more than work. I want to be a good daughter, a good sister, a good friend. Someday, I want to be a loving wife, and a loving mom. I want to have a colorful kitchen, and have long, talkative meals. I want to travel, and live in different places. I want to push myself artistically, and tackle the things I've always thought I wasn't good at. I want to skate because it makes me happy. I want to keep writing. I want to go to school, and work with people that are struggling, and hike a lot more than I currently do. I want to help people be creative and capable. I want to have strong friendships in lots of different places, and I want to always be excited about the future.

Not knowing my next gig is tough. But it's not the worst. Life is really long, and I believe, holds enough flexibility for some things to not always go as planned. This season, I want to focus on embracing what's in front of me. Instead of fretting about where I'll be in a few months, I want to focus on enjoying being home; and, later, enjoying being away from home. I may feel like I have little control, but in reality, I hold all the power over what I do with my time. I want to be better at appreciating that.

What are you worrying about, instead of enjoying?

Thanks for reading! Be the grittiest.

xoxo Gillian

Merry Christmas!

Christmas with the fam, 2016.

As I'm typing this, it's 10:19 PM on Christmas Eve. Per Robidas family tradition, I've been banished upstairs so my parents can do their last-minute wrapping in the living room. No matter how old you are, some traditions never die.

To be honest, I've been hot and cold when it comes to Christmas this year. Before Thanksgiving, I was super excited and brimming with ideas. Over the last month and a half, though, work has become super stressful, I've had to have some tough conversations with my managers about changes in the new year, and my weekends have been full due to a second job (which I love!). On top of that, the rest of the family has been juggling school and multiple jobs and everything, too...so our whole house has been dragging a little going into Christmas.

But. This weekend, we are home. I went to church this morning and got to go to lunch with my amazing church family after. We spent Christmas Eve at my aunt's house, celebrating with my dad's side, which was fun. Tomorrow, we get to have a quiet morning with just our family, and then head out (in the forecasted snow!!) to my uncle's house for my mom's side's Christmas. It will be loud, and crazy, and filled with lots of running around and good food. I love big family holidays.

I love this time of year. I love Christmas and everything that comes with this season. But, every year I get a little sad, too. I always end up with a little knot in my stomach that won't go away. On the surface, I'll get a little sad about all the things I didn't end up getting done or thinking of. But, the root goes deeper than that. I get weirdly nostalgic; I start to miss times that I've never lived. I can't walk through a store without thinking about how weird it is that I'm so close to so many people at that moment and yet am never, ever going to meet them again. I get lonely for not just the people in my life, and the people who used to be in my life, but also the people who will never be in my life. I start to want to know all the alternate paths and random people and opposite lives I could be leading. And, I start to miss them all.

I don't hate these Christmas aches. They keep me grounded, I think; they help me see a little deeper than all the commercial stuff. But it's not comfortable to feel it. I start to miss life when me and my cousins were younger, or at least the times before girlfriends and boyfriends, when there weren't those family outsiders to talk around. I miss future us, too: I think about the inevitable day when this whole family unit won't be together, I think about my aunt and  uncle's divorce, and even though they both still do holidays together, all that unsaid tip-toeing. I think a lot about my friends, too; sometimes about how I wish I could spend Christmas with them, like when they all sing around the piano in You've Got Mail. I think about all those awkward family conversations, and how on earth we can become so disconnected to our own flesh and blood. I think a lot about what I wish I did during the year to make these talks better, whether it's spending more time with family or fixing my life so I have better things to talk about.

Personally, I feel (am) on the cusp of some pretty big things. I am hoping for them, praying for them, and so ready for them, to come true. But, it's also heart-breaking to think about future me not being here, so close to family, with the churches I've grown up with and little cousins everywhere. If I get what I want, and everything changes, it won't be the same again. How scary is that?

Since yesterday, I've been so uncomfortable with how cluttered the house is, and the piles of stuff everywhere and a planner I can't even read, that I've been dreaming of skipping over Christmas and getting a head start on my week off work to re-set and re-group. I am so looking forward to 2018: not because 2017 was bad, or just that I'm super excited for some cool opportunities, but just that I need a fresh start. But, these Christmas aches have made me slow down a little. Christmas Day, I want to make a point to take my time. Really talk and listen. Enjoy some good food and not sweat the small stuff (because let's be honest: at a family holiday, there'll be a lot of little things to possibly sweat over). Regardless of what does or doesn't happen in 2018, I do know that Christmas 2018 will be different just because it's a new year. 

I'm okay with taking a step back from a couple of traditions this year. We didn't have the time, and that's okay. Not every year is the same. My goal is to soak in all the wood stove, twinkling lights, loving family, giving spirit, stupid jokes, and snow falling New England Christmas vibes tomorrow. No matter where I am or who I'm with, today, tomorrow, and next year, it's special to have this day to relax and reflect and enjoy. I may lean into the Christmas aches for some perspective, but I'm excited to soak up the unique joy that every year brings with it.

Merry Christmas, everyone! Praying that you and yours have a safe, warm, joyful holiday.

Merry Christmas! xoxo

~Gillian

PS-As part of their gift, I made a Christmas movie with my cousins as our virtual Christmas card. It's cheesy and super fun. It's unlisted on Youtube, but I'm going to leave the link HERE for a couple of weeks if you want to take a peek. :)

20 Things About Turning 20

I've been searching for the right way to reflect on being alive for 20 years. I thought of listing what I'd learned, but that seems overdone. I wanted to list 20 favorite moments, but they all seemed too recent. So here is 20 Things About Turning 20. 10 are things that shaped my 19th year, and 10 are moments/experiences I'm looking forward to in the next decade. 

10 Things That Shaped My 19th Year:

01: Passing my senior moves in the field test. I was extremely proud of it, because I completed the 8-test track in 5 years, instead of the typical 6-8. I love moves, and this was very validating of the time I dedicate to them.

02: Working retail 35 hours a week. This job was boring and hectic, grueling yet easy, anger-inducing and laugh out loud funny. I shared it with some of my favorite people in the entire world, and others who's path I'd rather not cross again (it's mutual, I'm sure). 

03: Going to ProSkaters in Knoxville. This was so eye-opening, and really shaped the way I approached the rest of the year in terms of skating. While I've been open about how I wasn't particularly happy with my performance, I've accepted that I usually need a trial run of something before I do my best stuff. I am SO looking forward to this year. 

04: Loosing my paternal grandmother this summer. After my grandparents living out of state for most of my life, they finally moved back summer of 2015, and I visited them every single Saturday that fall and winter. We lost my grandmother almost exactly a year after they'd moved back. While her actual death was not a shock, it made me grieve all over again for all the time I lost with them growing up. I am so grateful for that year of Saturdays. 

05: Skating at the National Theater on Ice Competition this summer. In my second year there, I found I was so much more present while we competed. We did David Bowie's 'Fashionista' for our Freeskate, and performing it was fun and fast and bold and so right. It was a great way to finish a rocky season of bad critiques and scrapping programs.

06: My best friend getting married. When you've been friends with someone since you were 11, their wedding is a big deal. It was a great day for a great couple, and only promises better things ahead.

07: Getting my new job. I knew that eventually if I wasn't spontaneously cast into Disney on Ice I'd need a job that was more stimulating than retail, but I hadn't made any real plans about moving on, because I was 19, and it was fine. But after talking with one of the paras that assisted one of the work-program store employees, and realizing the hours were practically what I was working already, I went home and applied. I didn't overthink it. I just sent it in. And now I'm here, in a job that's unveiling a passion I wasn't sure about, and a skill set I didn't know existed. Really looking forward to the rest of the year. 

08: After about a year of deliberation, this spring I placed membership with a different church than the one I grew up in. No gasps needed, it's still church of Christ. My reasons for leaving were many, and varied, and extremely thought out. This was me choosing a congregation as a single, contributing adult, and that is scary. But it is so great, and exactly where I need to be. It has restored my faith in a way I can't even describe. I have real, deep connections with my brothers and sisters, and the mutual support there is amazing. They have given so much warmth to this year.

09: I want to challenge my soloist performance skills more, so I decided that this was the year I'd start competing in Showcase. I worked with Kate McSwain to create a show program to 'Candyman', and It. Is. The. Literal. Bomb. This program is my happy place, the light of my life. You'll see it soon, promise.

10: Driving. Everywhere. I don't even want to know how many hours I logged in the car. But: I've listened to hundreds of hours of audiobooks and podcasts, navigated Mass highways at night with only notes written on the backsides of envelopes, learned exactly how far you can get on a quarter tank of gas, learned which gas stations have the best coffee, and learned the invaluable skill of manually turning headlights on when yours stop working. #commuterlife.

10 Things I'm Looking Forward To For My 20's:

11: Lots of skating related travel, audition opportunities, performances, and experiences that will only make my skating better. I'm excited to keep striving and performing and searching for my niche. 

12: Getting better at daily life stuff. I just learned to drive a standard, and I want to be able to do it without thinking. I want to keep up with laundry. Learn how to cook really well. Make my bed in the morning. You know, act like a functioning human. 

13: Getting physically and mentally stronger, to support more adventures in my life. I want strength, energy, flexibility and resilience, in body and soul. 

14: Doing work that is more a lifestyle and value system than just work, and involves me creating, actively contributing unique ideas, challenging myself daily. Whatever that is, or whatever multiple things it is, I want it. 

15: Having better relationships. I want closer friendships, people I work with that I can collaborate with, side projects started with friends, and eventually a real, healthy relationship that brings us both up. 

16: Finding a Luke's Diner. It's all I really want from life. Universe oh Universe, send me a Luke's!

17: Living in new places, in whatever way that looks like. I want a cute, small town New England apartment. But I also want to try living in a city, or a completely different state. This is also just an excuse for me to decorate multiple imaginary apartments.

18: Learning things that seem impossible now. I was thinking about how different I am now than I was at 15, and imagining what I'll be like when I'm 25. I want to learn how to better navigate life, obviously, but I also want to learn some skills. Know how to put together projects and be really good at whatever work I'm doing. 

19: Tackling my nagging insecurities and anxieties, and being more successful (not to mention happier) because of it. 

20: Finally feeling 'my age'. In some ways I feel like I'm already 23, and in others I still feel 15. In my 20's, I'm looking forward to being what I am...not ahead or behind, just present.

I remember being ridiculously excited when I turned 10, because I was finally 'double-digits'. I am equally excited to start living my 20's. Onwards and upwards (and happy new year!).

Happy Friday, xoxo.

PS- 16th birthday, 17th birthday. OF COURSE I wouldn't do something obvious like post about my 18th and 19th. 

Gilmore Girls

I make up a minority of the American female population, in that I have not yet watched all of Gilmore Girls. Shock! Horror! Shame!

As a book-obsessed, comedy-loving 90's child, I realize that this is ridiculous. When it was actually airing, I was just a tad too young for it, and more interested in I Dream of Genie re-runs, anyways. But now, with Netflix at my fingertips, I'm finally living out my fullest potential, and binging it as quickly as possible. There is a revival to prep for, after-all!

You ever notice how some things, like a quote or a book or a blog, find you exactly when you most need them? That's how it was in 2014 when I read Someday, Someday, Maybe Lauren Graham's (Lorelei Gilmore) debut novel about an actress in NYC struggling to 'make it' before her self-imposed deadline. That book was life changing for me. As a junior in high school, it spoke to everything I was feeling as I entered my senior year and faced what adult life would be. There were times that I felt my dreams were silly, and not possible, and this book taught me to hope, and chase after them anyway. I felt so seen and understood after reading this, which was welcome after all the hard questions like "so where are you going to college?!" that I was getting daily.

So, when she already had that much impact on my life, maybe it's not surprising that I completely fell in love with Lauren Graham and everyone else that brings Gilmore Girls to life. I feel like it is yet another moment of finding what I need, exactly when I need it the most.

Right now I need community. I need friends, and neighbors, and the small-town vibe of Starshollow. I was starting to really feel it this year. At my job, I knew everyone that come in. Since it was a grocery store, I knew every local chef and driver and restaurant owner. I knew all the local construction company guys, all the elderly couples from assisted living, all the elementary teachers that run in before school starts. I had my favorite manager, and each morning we'd have a new story to update each other on.

But I just got a new job. I start the 31st. I am over the moon excited and grateful, and it's going to be such a better situation than my old job. But Saturday, I also found out that my favorite manager just got transferred. I won't even get to say goodbye, he's in a new store starting Monday.  And that all just feels like too much change. I'm already missing my little community. It took me a while to feel a part of it, and I don't know if a new one will be easy.

I wish I lived in Starshollow. Right now, I need that community. I wish I could walk to everything. I wish I knew exactly who to call when I'm feeling down. I wish I had a Luke, with a diner that is magically open at any time of day, yet also incredibly easy to leave so that he can come help me fix problems. I wish I could eat burgers everyday with no repercussions.

Everything is looking up right now. This is going to be a great winter, I know it is. I've been anxious about everything I've said above, because change is scary and I'm very easily spooked. But I know in a few months, I'll be happy with the new situation. But right now, when I forget to calm down and enjoy, I turn to Gilmore Girls for the reminder. There will always be family to turn to. There are always more people than I think willing to help me. You need to find friendship before romance. And we all need something to work hard for.

Currently on Season 2, episode 18. No spoilers, please! I know a few are obvious but I'm trying really, really hard here!!

A Year In

Hey guys. Took me a million years, but I'm back.

This time last year, I was embarking on my first post-high school year. My first year as a 'real adult'. I know. Cue laughter.

Looking back on my senior year of high school, I remember how restless I was. It was like I spent the whole year feeling anxious and fidgeting. I worked a lot, and skated a lot, and dated a lot, but I had a really hard time feeling sure or stable. I do feel like I did more growing that year than almost any other, so maybe that's a part of it, but at the time it just felt like I couldn't get my feet under me.

But the restlessness of my senior year left me even more ready to move on. I came with a lot of ideas but no sure things. A year in, I have mixed feelings about how well I used this year. Part of me feels like I did a lot of running for not a lot of progress or hard results, but I also realize that I learned and grew a lot this year, and am now in such a better place to build a happy, successful, complete life.

Here's what I learned, about myself and life and work, this year.

Not going to college was the perfect decision for me. I've never really been pulled by the whole college experience/lifestyle, and I'm so happy that I didn't push myself into it based on what my peers were doing. I'm sure further education will have a role in my life at some point, but definitely not in the traditional sense. Being in the same place for four years continues to be extremely uninspiring to me, so I'm happy I listened to that.

No matter how much I work, not working will always be more stressful. I feel like I wasn't even home this year, just jumping between work and skating! I pulled some really long hours/days/weeks this year, but no matter how stressful those were, I was always unhappier and more anxious on the days/weeks when I wasn't working. Work, and progress, and moving forward keep me centered and content and help me feel in control. If I suddenly have downtime, or start to get comfortable, I immediately stress out.

Personality can open just as many doors as skill level. I worry about not being 'good enough' to go after things. But I've realized that, to get you started and open the door, our attitudes and personalities have as much to do with it as our skill level. Many people will be understanding of the fact that you're 19 and maybe don't know a lot. But they'll still be impressed if you're excited, hard working, make the first move, show up on time, prepare, and don't need to be micro-managed every second to stay productive.

Our society is screwing 20 year-olds, but you don't need to fall victim to it. I'll be 20 in December. Our society thinks that at 20, you shouldn't have to be supporting yourself. Shouldn't be thinking about marriage. Shouldn't be getting up early on Saturday mornings and sometimes, even declaring a major. But we are adults, and that's all lies. Be responsible for yourself and make good decisions, because the same people who are telling you 'not to worry about it' now, will think you're a joke when you turn 26 and haven't accomplished anything.

Money is great, but make sure it's not the only reason you're there. I'm all for being financially independent and doing what you need to do, but a job is more than a paycheck. It's where we spend most of our time, interact with people, and contribute to the world. We work because we need the money, yes, but we also need to create something, help someone, learn a skill, or at the very least, be shown we're appreciated. So whether you're an architect or a dancer or a cashier, don't put up with a toxic work environment, a stagnant career, or utter boredom.

You need friends, and walks, and stupid sitcoms, and books, and haircuts. A huge lesson from this year is learning that working for the paycheck and grinding for your dreams is fantastic, but it is not all there is to life. No matter how driven we are, we need to make time for relaxation and fun and joy. I started to cut these 'extras' because they weren't necessary. But being joyful is necessary, so now know that I need to be more diligent about making time for them on the regular.

Overall, I'm happy with who I became this year. I feel so much more level-headed, and clear on what my priorities for my life are. With September right around the corner, I'm confident in the fact that this Sophomore year of life will be filled with grit and work and hopefully, satisfaction.

Thanks for reading! xoxo

PS-Can you believe my last post was in April, guys? This summer was full, so an unintended (but, apparently, needed) break was in order. I don't know exactly what blogging will look like this year, but I am hoping that there's more of it. Thanks for sticking around!

PPS-2015 Was Quite A Year, and 2016 Will Be Quite A Year.

Knoxville, Part 1

Photo Cred: The Ice Chalet

Doubt is a killer.

For months now, I've been living with a tireless pit in the bottom of my stomach. It flares up when I've had a bad practice. It flares up when I'm at my part-time retail job, so far removed from what I really want.

Being a show skater has been my end goal for years. It is a very integral part of what I hope is a lifelong career in skating. But as a 19 year-old, almost a year out of high school, I've been feeling so much pressure to really get it going. 

Now granted, most of that pressure is coming from me. I'm the one worrying. Comparing. Judging. I'm the one who believes I'm a horrible skater just because I've had a bad practice, or not put together because I've made one clumsy mistake. All this pressure I'm talking about is coming from me, not others. But it is no less anxiety-inducing. 

I have an extreme fear of being stuck. It may seem contradictory, given my love of routines and how uncomfortable I can be with new situations, but I live in fear that I will end up stuck. That a year from now, nothing will be really that different. That I'll miss my opportunities to leave my job, be skilled at my passion, create something new. 

That's what was on my mind on a Saturday afternoon in February. I was excited about skating and was making lists of everything I wanted to do...but I was also giving myself a panic attack over the fact that I might not be able to make all those dreams come true. 

And that's when I stumbled on ProSkaters. And, right on the home page, an advertisement for the 2016 Pro Skater Performance Camp and Live Audition in Knoxville, Tennessee. 

I quickly read through everything. Held in March, it's a weekend camp focused on educating aspiring show skaters with on and off ice classes. It culminates in a show with group numbers you learn over the weekend, and a chance to audition a solo. The best part? Casters from major ice shows sit in the front row the entire time. A fun-filled weekend put on by top choreographers, it has a high success rate and many skaters have been cast after being spotted there.

I showed it to my mom. And in the matter of an afternoon, just three weeks before the event, we decided I had to go. 

And I am so glad I did. Doubt is a killer. It's debilitating. And I have spent far too much time worrying about whether or not I'm good enough, instead of simply putting myself out there and finding out. 

I don't believe I'll be getting any offers this go-around. We had the opportunity to speak to all the casters after the auditions, and I have to admit, I was scared. In my 4-H days, I spoke in front of crowds, led groups, and was interviewed constantly. But now, I'm supposed to be an adult going for a real job and unlike my 4-H self, I'm not completely confident in my ability to nail it. And that shows.

And, as I've learned, comes back to haunt me. I'm not overly proud of the first impression I made. I didn't feel put-together, or confident, or strong. My routine was clean, but the performance was sorely lacking. I was nervous and didn't put my best foot forward.

Doubt is a killer. It got to me this weekend, and my skills--my work--suffered because of it. 

I am not allowing that again.

It is the human condition to have insecurities, to sell ourselves short. It's something I've personally dealt with on a seemingly daily basis since Freshman year. I've made a lot of progress towards having confidence in myself, but I definitely take steps back sometimes. Skating, unfortunately, always seems to bring up the worst insecurities. 

I took so much away from this weekend. I learned on ice techniques, some great choreography, what I have to work on, and tips for getting a contract. But I was also made aware about parts of myself I haven't had to deal with before. On the ride home, I made a long list of skating moves I want to learn or improve on. But I think I'll be making a second list of mental shifts to make as well. 

Like to stop feeling so down about this 'rejection', because it was my first time trying. And to stop feeling like I'm running out of time, because no 19 year old can possibly have tried hard enough yet. To spend less time worrying about what others will be wearing/eating/doing, and simply be myself. To realize that no one will think you're silly for trying to sell yourself. To realize that you're trying to be a show skater, and silly is allowed (duh!). To be more present and focused and learning in the moment instead of always running a few steps ahead (or behind!). And to take more deep breaths, and walk up and start talking to more people.

I'll admit, doubt got the better of me this past weekend. I let it control me and it cost me the ability of  making a good first impression. But while doubt may reside in the back of mind for awhile, I no longer have to listen, and certainly not give in to it. I am in control of my life. My choices. And to a large degree, my feelings. I, no outside force, decides if I'm stuck or not. And I am decidedly not. 

Thanks for reading! xoxo

PS-Check back in on Sunday for Knoxville, Part 2 where I share more details on what I learned, who I met, and my program! 

For When You Realize You Grew Up and Became Toad

The Frog and Toad books by Arnold Lobel are some of the sweetest, most heart warming books you could ever read. They were a huge part of my childhood, and like all great children's books, are even better as you get older.

Toad is my favorite. Toad has bad days. He gets tired, gets frustrated, and has doubts. But sometimes, things go really well. And he's always ready to appreciate those moments.

Frog and Toad is about little things. It's about contentment, joy, hope, friendship, and putting others first. So for all the times when you realize you are Toad.....

For when willpower isn't one of your strengths...

And when diets are for the birds (literally).

For when you procrastinate...

Only to feel overwhelmed and guilty.

For when a little thing....

...turns into a big deal.

And we overreact.

And then realize how ridiculous we were, and feel bad.

And the only way to make it up is just to act from the heart.

For when inspiration runs dry....

...and all you really want to do is sleep.

For when you don't quite know why you're sad...

And all you really want is a friend.

For when you worry you're not wanted...

And then we don't know the right way to help.

And we make the wrong assumptions.

For when making your to-do list is the most productive thing you do all day...

For when we want, with all our heart, just to be good...

And we get impatient while working for what we want...

For when the haters start to get to us...

And we begin to believe that we cannot do it.

"Toad ran back to frog.
"This kite is a joke," he said, "It will never get off the ground.""

But if you keep trying, it will.

You've just got to keep shaking it up to find what works. And when you've made it, you'll be so much higher than all the people that told you you couldn't do it.

For when the world starts to get to you.

And your head hurts. And your muscles are sore. And your heart is sore.

And you feel like you aren't seen, or heard, or wanted.

And the only thing you're sure of, is that true friendship is the most important thing in the world.

Happy Wednesday! xoxo

Guys, Work, and Getting Derailed

I can live alone, if self respect and circumstances requires me so to do. I need not sell my soul to buy bliss. I have an inborn treasure born with me, which can keep me alive if all extraneous delights should be withheld, or offered only at a price I cannot afford to give.

-Jane Eyre

A main theme of 2015 has been questioning.

Questioning my dreams. My methods. Questioning my motivations, who I really am, what I really want, what I really need. And at times, questioning my faith.

I want to work my butt off and reach my goals. I'm in love with the idea of being absorbed in work, grinding through with purpose and being creative and innovative as a result. But this year, I've struggled a lot with keeping that focus. A Distraction will come along, and suddenly everything is derailed. I'm waking up late. I'm getting less done. I'm less focused at the rink. I'm less motivated to push myself.

There are days when I feel like such a badass for doing yoga early in the morning, and driving to the rink, and practicing, and writing, and then having a long day at work. I feel on top of it and like I'm really trying my best. But there are other days (to be honest, usually when a Distraction doesn't text me back) that it just feels lame. It feels horrible to never have a free night. Or the fact that weekends literally do not exist. Or to always be going to the rink. And I most definitely never tell anyone about my blog.

The fact that I derail so easily really annoys me. The fact that my mood is dictated by whether or not my phone is buzzing is ridiculous. When did I start to care so much about what people think?

I've never had to deal with this issue before this year. But it's been a repeated issue since January, and one I've been trying to learn how to handle. I'm so far from getting this. So, so far. But there are two things that have been working this fall:

(1) Just work anyways. I know! Rocket science! But this has literally been all I've done. Just go anyways, regardless of mood. Don't indulge yourself. I'm much better at this one when it involves leaving the house (going to work, going to the rink). It's harder when I'm at home (write that blog post, clean my room, do a yoga video), but generally it works. I've come to realize the power habit has in keeping you on track.

(2) Realize that burnout is real, and sometimes you are actually tired. I know lots of people who work seven days a week. I know people who have a night job and a day job. I know people who skate while doing all honors in school. I know lots of people who go, go, go all the time. And I really admire that. I want to be like that...because frankly, there is so much more room to push ourselves than we think. We indulge our lazy sides more than we have to.

But, I've also realized that sometimes, resting is completely necessary. There's been a lot of nights this year where I've ditched blogging and gone to bed at 10 (which is ridiculously early for me). I indulge in guilt-free Netflix binges after I close at work. And when I'm sick, overtired, and really sore, I take the day off from skating. Which is something I still feel guilty about, but I'm finally realizing is important.

So that is where I'm at right now. I'm learning to find balance. I'm learning to stay focused. I'm experimenting and searching for that sweet spot where I'm working at my best. And I'm learning to be more confident in what I do, even when other people don't understand it.

I have goals, desires, and beliefs. I have a heart I'd rather not let everybody see. And I'd rather go through life be alone and true to myself, then change for people not meant for me, anyways.

Happy Saturday! xoxo