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. 

Is Adult Life Just Complete And Utter Chaos?

 

My heart is pounding, I unwisely poured myself a second cup of coffee, my shoulders haven't relaxed since Monday, and I am racing with nervous energy that simultaneously shouts "do all the things NOW!!" and "just stare at the wall and dissociate for a bit."

We're in a bit of a family crisis at the moment. Our dog, Bear, got out of the house Monday afternoon and bit our next door neighbor. He is okay, thankfully--bruised and broke skin, but everything was surface level and there shouldn't be any long term issues. Chris brought him to the emergency room immediately afterwards to get checked out. We emailed our landlords and told them about the situation the second we got the neighbor home. That night they let us know that Bear is no longer welcome here, and we had three days to get him off the property. 

We are not getting evicted...Bear just isn't allowed to live her any more. Which makes complete sense. I cannot describe how utterly shitty it feels to be the neighbor with the problem dog. We both feel so ashamed. And so upset. And very overwhelmed by how to move forward. Our neighbor has been literally too kind to us, considering. We're grateful for him. And we're grateful for landlords who are also not kicking us out. That gives us some flexibility. 

Monday night was horrible and I rage cried for hours. I called my friend, and my mom. Tuesday morning I grieved a little but overall felt way more clear-headed. I was unfocused all day and then stayed up until 1:30am writing an 8-page research paper that I had, of course, procrastinated on (here's a lesson I probably won't learn: don't procrastinate because emergencies happen and surprise!! you still can't drop any balls!!). Wednesday we made a thousand plans for a thousand different scenarios, and let ourselves just chill and spend time together. Today (Thursday) we went on one last of our perfect, family coffee walks and then Chris left for New Jersey with Bear. He'll stay there with his parents for at least two weeks, while we make more of a game plan and explore some options. Today I will finish this blog post, work out, eat real meals, and go to work. 

A bookshelf Chris just finished. 

The plan right now is not to rehome Bear. He's still young (he's just two), and in my heart of hearts I do feel like there is room to make progress and work towards making him less reactive. Rehoming him in this moment seems irresponsible--like we are just walking away from our problems and putting him in a stressful situation that likely will result in him getting more aggressive. So we need to try. Of course, this mostly hinges on us being able to find another living situation. We have to be upfront with new possible landlords, and it's scary to feel like no one will want us with Bear's history. I don't know what we will do if we can't find a place to live, but we 're going to give us some time to search before we worry about that. If we are able to move, we will be able to break our lease once a new tenant is found for our current apartment. It will just be continuing to pay rent until the next renter can start (which is pretty generous given that our lease continues until August). 

I am scared about the increased training we will need to undertake with Bear, to ensure that we can be good owners to him for the future. I'm scared we won't be able to handle it, or that it won't work and we'll still have to consider getting rid of him. I honestly do not think my heart could take getting rid of him. I've been very slow to get used to owning a dog, but now that we are two years in I really would be heart broken without him and I don't want to do that. Still, I worry about what this means our future lives will look like: what will happen when we have kids? Will we ever be able to have friends over, throw parties? 

I am very sad to be leaving this apartment. I really love it here. I love the space, I love the location. I love that it's clean. I love that we have laundry in the basement. I love that it feels like a real home. I love that it's the place I started to feel really grounded in my grown up rhythms: clean sheets every Sunday, the weekly meal plan stuck to the fridge, extra bedding stored for guests in the closets, long walks with Chris and Bear every morning and afternoon. We were really coming into our own here. I was loving this season of life. 

I was looking forward to a lot in this home: I just bought pansies and tomato plants to cover the porches in summer-fueled life. Chris' parents were supposed to visit in two weeks, and I was scheming last-minute decorating projects before they saw the place for the first time. I wanted to host a Mother's Day Lunch, and a Memorial Day cookout. Chris just finished a bookshelf he designed himself, to fit exactly under the big living room window. I have a pile of frames waiting to be hung above our bed. 

Chaotic Easter snaps. 

This past weekend was Easter, and it was such a good one. I was utterly blissed out. In the morning we walked Bear and then made a special Easter brunch for the two of us: mimosas, french press cafe au laits, cinnamon rolls, and fruit salad. I made appetizers and homemade rolls to bring to my parents for a big family lunch. We talked about how this was really the first holiday since we've moved in together where everything felt so right: we didn't overcommit, but also set aside time for fun holiday things; there was no tension with my parents; we weren't stressed about Bear. It felt like we were finally figuring out what our adult lives could look like.

And instead, and instead, and instead. What a shitty turn of events. 

We can only focus on what we can control, and right now that is: being proactive about looking for places. Being honest with friends and family and asking for help. Being on top of our finances so we're prepared for whatever needs to happen. Taking care of ourselves. Honestly though, part of me wants to just burn it all down: go full send and just move to New Orleans, or just bop from Air BnB to Air Bnb and see the country. Sneak away to a new city and live in a tight, sunny little loft. I think you only get one shot to really burn down your life and start over; maybe this could be it?

This feels like the start of a formative moment; a challenge that will shape us. I'm proud to say we feel really together and are each proud of how the other is handling things. Maybe in a few years we'll look back and this will just be a crazy, chaotic adventure. It sucks right now though. 

Is this just what adulthood is? Continuous, utter chaos?

Leaving Middle Street

This coming Saturday, Chris and I will be moving out of our Middle Street apartment. Our landlord decided to sell the house, so for the past few weeks we (well, mostly Chris) have been hustling to find a new place. We're going to be moving about 20 minutes south, two towns over from where we are now in Portsmouth. We're moving into the middle unit of a tri-plex in a small town; we'll be across from a large park with walking trails and have a yard!

We are excited to move. A spare bedroom! Two parking spots! A yard! A full size kitchen! Laundry hookups! But, this also feels a little sad. This chapter is closing. I have loved every minute in this cramped little apartment. 

Chris moved into this apartment in June of 2018, just a week before we met. It was his first apartment without roommates. I came over for the first time sometime in early July. He had two beach chairs set up in the living room, and I helped him put an AC in the window before we left for our third date. 

This apartment is an attic one-bedroom, on top of an older house about a 10-minute walk from downtown. All the walls have slanted ceilings. In the bathroom, the shower is built into the slanted ceiling, and the shower rod sits so low that you can see Chris' shoulders above the curtain. You enter the apartment through a galley kitchen, and directly across from the front door is the bathroom. From there you cross into a little hallway, with the steps down into the main unit cutting up through the floor. On one side of this hallway is our bedroom, and on the other side is the living room. There is a very long, angled closet in the hallway, which we sarcastically called the shed. We keep the pet food and camping supplies and paint cans and tools in there. We've called it the shed so often, though, that now we call it that unironically to everyone, which is confusing. 

The rooms are choppy and none of the doorways flow into each other, which makes it horrible to cool down in the summer. Attics are always so, so hot. To get up to our apartment, there's a huge outdoor staircase that ends in a little landing right outside our door. We spent a silly amount of time on that little, maybe 3x3, landing. We squeezed a tiny grill out there. Last summer during quarantine, I had flowers and veggies going up and down the stairs. The landing is Bear's favorite spot to perch, and every day when I leave he gives me kisses through the slats. 

This apartment was so fun in the first year or so of our relationship. We went on motorcycle rides, went on early morning runs, and went downtown for drinks. I had never consistently stayed over at a boyfriend's before, and I really reveled in showing up for the weekend and getting to live an almost alternate life.

 Sometime in that first year, we had some of Chris' friends come over and I made homemade buffalo chicken dip. We dropped it directly on the newly-installed carpet, of course. We cleaned it up, and I scrubbed and scrubbed the spot with baking soda to get the stain out. Finally, Chris asked how I was planning to get the baking soda out of the carpet. "I'll just vacuum it!" I said, and that's how I learned that Chris didn't own a vacuum, even though he'd been living there for months. 

Of course, this apartment was Chris'. But I took it as mine well before moving in. I had a part-time coffee shop job at the time, and in between those shifts and coaching I'd often hang out at his apartment even when he was at work. He got me a very ugly dresser from the side of the road, that had two drawers missing. Over time we acquired everything necessary to make cookies whenever I got the urge. We at a lot of frozen pizzas, often with the office in the background and a new bottle of wine from the store directly across the street. Other nights, we'd go out for a quick drink before dinner, then spring for an appetizer, and then go to a second place, and just eat appetizers the entire night. 

I moved in in January of 2020. I cannot thank my lucky stars enough that we moved in together before covid. Moving in was a Big Deal. But, I don't know if I've ever felt something that felt so right, straight from the start. It was such an obvious decision. This apartment--and more importantly, Chris--were already home to me. I just needed to move all my stuff in. 

Even so, that first year of living together was hard. It took us a long time to get in the rhythm of things. It took a long time for the apartment to feel like mine. But this year, we've really hit our stride. The apartment stays relatively clean. There is always food in the fridge. We make a good, decently healthy dinner most nights a week. We spend a lot of time chatting at the kitchen table, and a lot of time working quietly in separate rooms. Our favorite weekend activity this summer has been curling up on the couch with Bear, while I read a book and Chris plays videogames. 

I love waving to the neighbor I park my car in front of at 5am every morning, while I head off to coach and he walks the dog. I love seeing Bear wait for me at the top of the steps. I love the light that streams in through the kitchen window at golden hour. I love how cozy the slanted ceilings make each room here. 

This apartment was many firsts, for both of us: first dog, first place together, first time living with a significant other, first time buying furniture, first time trying 1000 new recipes. This was our quarantine home, my oasis on long workdays, where we fought and laughed and made plans and made up. This is where we lived when we got engaged. This has been the place we celebrated, and relaxed, been productive, and retreated when we were sad and tired. 

I have a thousand more photos that are making me teary-eyed, but I'll close it here. Here is to new chapters! New things! Growing together! This new chapter feels very grown up. But I am sad to leave this tight, old apartment. This little place has given us so much space, and so much freedom. Middle Street, you've been the place both our adult lives really started. We'll miss you!

A Wedding!!

I am not going to lie: the past few days have been a bit shitty. Actually, just very shitty. Not in a bad day way, but more so in a heart-breaking, sad way. I feel lost. We got a pretty brutal response to some wedding related things, related to the fact that we live together. I feel stupid, and naïve. I feel misunderstood, and unseen. I feel like I've misunderstood, and failed to see clearly. But mostly? I feel sad. Like my dear friend said during a tear-streaked phone call the other night, "you're on the precipice of something." That feels very, very true. I'm just not excited about it. The hard changes and conversations coming are things I actively did not want now. But here we are! And the only way is through. This is life I guess. 

I would love to talk about this in more detail, and I will. Someday. In my frantic googling to find some voices to lean into, I've discovered that there is not enough conversation about stuff like this. I don't have the heart for that conversation today though. So instead, fun stuff! In the classic cyclical nature of life, THERE IS STILL SO MUCH GOOD, ALWAYS. And the good I am leaning into today is that there! is! a! wedding! to! plan!! Incredible. I am so excited for a wedding. 

I thought it would be fun to do a little brain dump of everything I'm thinking, wedding wise:

When

October of 2022! Official date TBD. I am thinking early, early October. We just need to pick venues. 

Where

Chris and I's entire relationship has been centered around where we currently live in Portsmouth, NH. Our first date was downtown! So many dates after were downtown! We've met friends here, quarantined here, had our first apartment together. So even though Portsmouth is pricey, we want the wedding to be here. 

In terms of the actual venue...we don't know? We're looking at a very cute little chapel for the ceremony this weekend. And then there's a historic home down the street, that I would love to see if we could rent the lawn of for the reception. So we'll see. Octobers outdoors are also a little chilly? So it may be better to get inside. 

Bridal Party

Chris knows exactly who is bridal party will be. I mostly know mine. Once I officially decide, we will ask everyone. In stalking OG Elise Joy archives recently, I stumbled across her cute bridal party "invites". I love this idea, especially to officially lay out some of the plans and expectations, and it's such a cute way to connect the people that don't know each other together. 

Chris wants five groomsmen, and my list is looking like I will also have five in the bridal party. So then the question is, do we attempt to make them exactly even? Does one cut/add people to make them even? When have you crossed the line into adding so many friends to the bridal party, that you have no friends as guests haha?

Clothing wise I want to be really chill. I'm planning to ask all the bridesmaids/MOH to to pick a floral printed dress that they love for the ceremony. Mismatch, dark floral prints seems so fun! And then I'm thinking the groomsmen will have dark printed floral ties? Or maybe just different shades of darker vibrant colors?

Food

I want mulled wine. And comforting, good food---not gross typical wedding food. But most importantly, I want a DESSERT TABLE!! A whole spread with pies, different cakes, little cookies, tarts....a whole spread. And I want to make our "main" wedding cake, that we slice. I don't know why, but somehow I know for sure that's what I want to be doing the day before the wedding. 

Colors

For colors I am picturing vibrant, rich earth tones with gold. Lots of greens, navy blues, golden yellows, some cranberry reds. 

Dress

I know I want to feel like me. Nothing too fluffy, something a little timeless, a little glam, but also very comfortable and chill. And killer shoes, and great, big earrings. I'm not sure if I want a veil or not, but I'm leaning towards no. 

I'm also not opposed to an ankle length dress. That's actually what I'm leaning towards...long but not too long? I definitely don't think I want a train. 

The rhythm of the day:

We would love a late afternoon ceremony on either a Friday or Saturday night. We'd follow with a fun reception, hopefully out doors, that doesn't go too late. And then whoever wants to would go out downtown! And we spend the rest of the night out on the town in Portsmouth. Maybe we'd make a reservation for the first place? But then moving forwards, we're just out!

There is so, so much more. We need a photographer! And engagement photos! And approximately 1000 other things. I have been so excited to be married since we got engaged. But a light switch finally clicked, and now I feel so excited to actually plan a wedding. 

Just Wow!

This past Friday, February 12th, Chris and I got ENGAGED!!

Back at Christmas, I had booked us a two-night stay in a Yurt in Chatham (near Jackson/Conway), New Hampshire for Chris. We had missed our typical traveling so much over the year! And Chris was such a supporter of me over all the changes in 2020. I wanted us to have a fun getaway, that was in-state and therefore could happen even with restrictions, and that was isolated enough that we could "forget" about the pandemic. 

The yurt was incredible. We snow-shoed in with our stuff, about a mile from where we parked the car. The yurt had plenty of room and a woodstove for heat. Bear came with us, and was just living his best life. Going outside whenever he wanted! Running around without a leash! Spending the whole day with both of us! He's such a mountain dog. 

We arrived on Thursday night, and spent Friday morning snuggled up reading and drinking coffee. Later on, we pulled on our gear and went snow shoeing on all the snow mobile trails that crossed the property. On the way back, we stopped at a clearing where we could see the mountains in the distance. After a beer, and a PB & J, Chris proposed! It was the sweetest. I was so surprised, and honestly wasn't even processing what was happening. My only regret was not being giddier while it was happening! But I was plenty giddy after (and still am, tbh). 

The rest of the trip was bonkers, but so worth it and a little funny in retrospect. Friday night we went out for an engagement drink. By the time we got back up to the yurt, the fire had gone out and the stove was too cold for me to get a new one going. We tried for an hour and a half but couldn't get it to start. Finally, Chris called it and we hiked back down to the car at 10pm and slept there. In the moment, I was really frustrated. But it is a hilarious story. 

Saturday morning, we both were wide awake at 5am (the car isn't the most comfortable, after all). We drove to a Dunkin Donuts and then drive all around watching the sunrise over the mountains. We ran into Walmart and bought a Duraflame log, then hiked back up to our yurt and started the woodstove. We snow shoed a bit more, packed up, and had some time to just enjoy the yurt for the last few hours. We stopped for a fun lunch on the way home, and had a great, talkative drive. 

I was completely surprised. We've talked about it a lot, obviously, and I knew it was going to happen at some point this year. But I definitely wasn't expecting it this early, or on that particular trip. I didn't even know he had a ring, and for whatever reason, I thought I would just know when he had one. It was the best surprise!

Ecstatic doesn't really cut it. I am so excited for this, and for us! This feels like the perfect timing. I love the time and experiences we've had together so far, and they give me confidence that we will be able to continue to grow together. And I love that we aren't waiting, just because we're relatively young. I am so excited to get to start this phase of our relationship. 

I also just feel...different? Like much more grown-up. And much more motivated to get back to working on building the life I really want, and "correcting" the parts of myself that I feel like are just a little immature. I feel responsible for something incredible fragile, and important. If I'm going to be a married person, I want to put in the work to make sure I'm bringing a solid, mature, and less chaotic version of myself to it. 

Chris put it really well. He said, "It feels like one less part of life that's abstract." YES! It's not a someday anymore, we are really doing this! We are really showing up and doing the things. 

I love you Chris! Are we really doing this? Just wow!!

One Year of Shacking Up

This past Sunday, January 10th, marked  the one year anniversary of Chris and I moving in together. I can't believe that it's been that long, but I also can't imagine it being any other way. 

December of 2019, I was skating at Sea World's WWOI. I had left for Florida in November with a rough plan that we would most likely move in together after I came home. Over the next two months, we decided for sure. 

December 2019, we talked a lot about living together, and what it would mean. That conversation, though, had really started over a year earlier, and became a serious topic over that summer. We talked about every side of it, from timelines and expectations about marriage, to how we'd split finances, to how we'd make time to do things without each other. For me, though, the number one topic I kept coming back to was a little less helpful: how would we handle people's reactions?

I was worried about what my parents would think. What my grandmother would think. I was worried about the thoughts of people at church, and especially worried about my closest friends at church. I was worried I would disappoint someone. I was worried that people would think I was some kind of fake Christian, or just a terribly weak one. I was worried that somehow I was failing. And all that worry made me obsess, and attempt to prepare for, so many worst case scenarios. I was prepared to be openly ridiculed, excluded from people I loved, and get the cold shoulder from family. 

But, I also knew that I really wanted to live with Chris. I knew that after all the time I'd spent staying over at his apartment, I was happiest there. Going through normal, daily rhythms with him made me feel the most grounded, the most whole, and the most like myself. Our time together made me want to keep growing as a person. A year and a half into our relationship, I found our love the most exciting, and most nourishing, part of my life. 

We also knew that this was just really good for us. We wanted more space, more time, a routine. We wanted to live with less of an audience. We felt like the next step of our growth as a couple was to act like a proper, partnered couple. 

And while I worried a lot about the opinions of my church, I also didn't believe this was wrong. Maybe those reasons will be their own post some day, but suffice it to say, deciding not to move in together would have been a decision made out of fear of resentment, not fear of actually doing something wrong. Even on my most people-pleasing days, I couldn't live with the idea of that fear shaping my life. 

This year, perhaps, wasn't the easiest one to start our lives together: there was that pandemic, bouts of unemployment, disappointments, actual criticisms my church members, and coming to terms with some deeply rooted anxiety. But on the flip side, every single good thing that did come out of 2020 for me, is somehow linked to the happy little life we've made together. Without Chris vacuuming dog hair and doing home workouts beside me, this year really would have been unbearable. 

A year later, I am proud of us. I'm proud of the life and the cozy little  home we've built. I'm proud that in the face of knowingly opening ourselves up to criticism, we stuck together and focused our actual decisions on what we needed as a couple. I'm proud that we've both been open and eager communicators, to make figuring out what we need doable. 

We have so many more ways to grow, but the growth we did experience is something I'm very proud of. Happy one year of shacking up, Chris. I am so beyond grateful to get to be delinquent with you. 

For anyone thinking through this transition: listen to your gut, not everyone else's reactions. You absolutely know what the right decision for this moment is.