Friday Five: Things I Want to Tell Women of All Ages (especially Teenagers)

The other day I was reading this article, about advice that this woman wants to give to teenagers. While I feel like the spirit of it comes from a place of caring and goodness, parts of it sounded hostile, judgmental and passive-aggressive  (which is ironic since she talks about passive-aggressive behavior in her article). It did give me cause to pause for a long while to think about what she was saying and why I was left feeling a bit frustrated. It’s because although the message says “you are worthy”, leading up to that great message it sounds very cynical and judge-y–which is just what teenagers need to see role modeled in their formative years.

I appreciate the article, however, because it did help me to think about the advice I’d give, not just to teens but to women of all ages. I have a unique perspective since I’ve worked strictly with college women for the past three years and during that time I’ve become both more compassionate and more questioning about a lot of things because I’ve come into my own as a feminist. All of these things shape the advice I’d give to anyone, but especially to those females who are experiencing vulnerability in their lives. I may never have the chance to tell daughters this, but I wanted the world to know how I’d advise women of all ages.

1. Societal standards suck and should not be the lens through which you view yourself and others. They are the reason why you feel like you hate your body and your hair and your curves. They are the reason you rarely see women who wear something other than a size 2 on television or in magazines. Don’t buy into these suffocating standards; recognize that beauty can come in any shade, size and sex. Don’t focus on what some may see as “hot” or “beautiful”; outer beauty fades. We live in a society that values youth and skinniness but you have to find it within yourself to rise above those oppressive standards and accept and love yourself no matter what. Please know, too, that because of these standards, society also is extremely judgmental of females and tries to tear women down, which leads to derogatory name calling and people who feel entitled to judge you. People may say you’re a “whore” or “slut” because you’ll want to explore your sexuality or call you a “bitch” if you decide use your voice or ask questions. Don’t let this stop you from doing those things. Focus on exploring who you are and let the negative influences flow over you. This will be hard to do, but know that every day women fight to do this and the planet is better off because of it.
2. You have choices, you have a voice–choose wisely. Wear what you want but know that you have more choices than what may be initially presented. Be aware of why you feel like you need a pair of $200 jeans or a shirt that hugs your chest. Is it because you really want it or because you feel like you need to fit in? You have a choice and it doesn’t need to be the skirt every other girl in your class has if you don’t want it to be. Also recognize that society expects you to wear skin-tight clothes and makeup for a reason. You don’t need to do buy into that, but if you choose to wear those things because it makes you happy, then do so with pride and don’t let anyone get you down for the choices you make.
3. Know where you’re spending your time. Try not to waste your time worrying about if you need to lose three pounds or if your hair is shiny enough. Most of your insecurity comes from external forces that bank on you buying products to make yourself feel better. Instead of wasting your time worrying about superficial things, do something that makes you happy, whether that’s running cross country, designing jewelry, playing the drums, writing poetry, reading Jane Austin or doing physics equations. Cultivate your passions and spend time devoted to your hobbies. Also spend time making memories with your friends. Doing these things are so much better than wasting time looking in the mirror wishing you fit into a smaller size.
4. Follow your heart–but take inventory of what your body, soul and mind are telling you as well. Know yourself well enough to know if your gut is twisting for a reason. Know the reasons why your heart is telling you to take Path A over Path B. Know what makes you happy. Cultivate a relationship with yourself and trust that your senses and intuition will help you make the right choices. Because they will.
5. Don’t tear other women down–it only erodes the sisterhood. We need to stop judging one another. We need to stop calling each other soul-sucking names like “whore”, “bitch” and “skank”. We need to stop tearing each other down and instead recognize that we can build a supportive sisterhood together. We need to work to build each other up. Life is hard enough as it is. The world doesn’t need more cynicism, judgement and negativity. What it needs is women who are happy with themselves as they are and women who want to extend their hands to help one another. Be a positive force in your own life and in the lives of others. Do good. Feel good. And rock the world, woman.
6. (Bonus advice) Surround yourself with support. It’s not easy being a woman, in case you couldn’t tell. We can’t do this alone, so find a sounding board where you feel safe venting, emoting and processing. Find friends you can let loose with, mentors you can turn to for advice and people who can be a support system through the good and the bad. There’s a lot of love in the world, you just have to be open to finding it. So many people care about you and so many are feeling exactly like you. Find those people, hang on to them, thank them often and then be that person for another. Like they say in High School Musical “we’re all in this together.”

Day 22: Outside the Box

Today the Broads want to know “If someone made a board game of your life, what would it look like? What pieces would you need to play?”

This topic confused me. OK, confused is not the right word….this topic made my brain want to implode. I read a lot of the Broads’ entries, I reflected on this for a long time and eventually I’ve come to realize this:

My life would not be made into a board game.

I’m OK with this. And, no, I’m not trying to cop out on the topic. It’s really true–my life would never be a board game. And here’s why: My life is too random and fabulous and lovely to be boxed in and one dimensionalized.

Instead, here are the tools needed in order to live life the KP way:

• A sense of whimsy and wonder. View the world as if everything (or most things at least) are magical.
• A big sense of humor. Life is more enjoyable when you laugh.
• A wicked sense of adventure. Be up for anything. Say yes far more often than you say no.
• Passion. Great things (and fun things) are only accomplished with passion. A zest for life is necessary.
• The ability to use your voice. Speak up for yourself; stand up for your needs and what you believe in. Otherwise things may not be as enjoyable or positive as they could be.
• Nearly no shame. Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there. Don’t let the fear of being embarrassed stop you from trying something new.
• Fear. Acknowledge that things may not go how you want them to go. Then take a deep breath, jump in and do the best you can. Fear is a sign that you’re on the right path…or so I’ve heard.
• The ability to reflect. Learn to make meaning from your experiences. Life is much richer and deeper that way.
• A love of learning. It goes hand in hand with the reflection piece.
• Good friends and/or a strong partner. Because life is more fun when you’re sharing a joke, glass of wine or experience together. (They, also, should have many of the items on this list.)

I’m not saying I have everything figured out. On the contrary, I feel as though I fly by the seat of my pants, hyperventilate, reevaluate and reflect on a regular basis. But I also feel like I’m in a very positive place in my life and I’m excited to see where my journey (or game!) takes me.

Day 3: Growing Into Myself

Day 3 question:  How did you become more of a grown-up this year? Or did you pull a Peter Pan and stubbornly remain childlike?

At four years-old, I had no concept of what grown-ups did. I knew that my mom stayed home and cooked and played with me. I had no idea what my dad did when he left every morning. I could only assume that he was heading to a playground to hang out with friends. At the wide-eyed age of four I assumed that when people got big, they got to do whatever they wanted and have fun all day. I couldn’t wait to get through the inconveniences of school so I could swing into the sky day after day, forever and ever amen.

By all accounts, I am now a grown-up. Except I occasionally have this moments where it’ll suddenly hit me–”oh shit! People think I’m a grown up!” I mean…I sometimes don’t feel like a grown up. I live with college-age students and I have a consistent bedtime of 1 am. I eat cold cereal for dinner on a regular basis. I have no stock options and I’m don’t plan on buying a house at any point in the future. And yet? I am a grown-up.

While I sometimes exhibit behaviors that are a tad irresponsible (I hate chores and likely always will, so anyone wanting to put a ring on it better enjoy taking out the garbage and cleaning), I’ve been discovering that being seen as a grown up has some advantages. The conversations I have with my friends are no longer about which bars are the best but rather where our journeys are going and how we can support each other. Students come to me for advice about everything from clothes to life choices. I’m learning how to calm my mind and look within to find the root of my thoughts and fears. I’m not afraid to question things. I’m not afraid to use my voice. I’m not afraid of my future, though it at times seems to be nebulous, because I know that I’ll take it on with zest and energy because of what I’ve weathered in my past. These are all new developments that began to bloom in the past couple of years.

I am growing into the person I want to be. I’ve cultivated my love of reflection and questioning. I’m just as happy to spend a quiet evening at home with a good book as I am to grab dinner and rock the mic karaokeing.  My voice is ever evolving. My laugh comes easily (though sometimes at inopportune times). My passions continue to grow wider and deeper as I discover more abut myself. These are all important pieces to who I am that I’ve discovered as I’ve grown. At the same time, there is an inner sense of wonder I will always want to honor. The little KP within will always squeal at twinkly lights (YAY CHRISTMAS!!!), get giddy when someone gives me a gift, dance whenever I hear a good beat or a fun song, continue to collect Disney movies and will never give up the dream of wanting to be a princess (I have several tiaras to prove this point).

In the past people have rolled their eyes or made sarcastic remarks about these parts of me–that I need to grow up or stop acting immature. It’s not a Peter Pan complex that I’m cultivating, however. I’m sincerely honoring the parts of myself that find magic in the mundane and fun in the everyday life experiences. Life is an adventure that I want to experience as much as humanly possible. And while I may have to work in order to, uh, make a living that does not mean I cannot have fun and experience the present moment. This year has taught me that I can make peace with this lovely part of me–I can be the woman who laughs easily while asking the deep questions. I can be the one who can see the varied sides of a situation and then reference Friends or The Office. I can have Lucky Charms for lunch and then cook a Filet Mignon with mashed potatoes and green beans for dinner. I don’t have to choose one piece of myself or another. I’ve learned to grow into myself and accept all parts of me.  I am a jewel, carved and angled by my experiences, preferences and passions, shining most brightly when multiple facets catch the light.

Sunday School: The Rave Edition

Happily, this week has not been nearly as exhausting or taxing for as the past couple of weeks have been. That doesn’t mean that they haven’t been without their challenges. Luckily, it was a short work week since my school was on a fall break (I LOVE this idea–why didn’t Michigan schools do this?!?) and I am coming down from a long weekend high/laze. That being said, here are the biggest things I’ve taken from this past week:

• The road to healing is never quite complete. I learned this when something that in the past had been a minor irritance suddenly flared into a major trigger that left me ugly-crying and nearly vomiting because it reminded me of all of the massive, horrible fights I’d had with my first ex-boyfriend. This in turn lead to a lot of insecurity  and introspection as I tried to figure out what the hell was going on. What I realized was that if I feel attacked (even if it’s just perceived and not truly real) then I’ll flashback to a dark place where I was blamed for all relationship problems, devalued, taunted and demeaned. (Yes, all by my ex. He was quite a man.) The raw feelings were something I wasn’t used to and I thought I was past–I was wrong. I was re-reminded this weekend that the healing process is a long journey that really doesn’t end. I need to heal on my own time and it will likely take a while, though it’s been an on-going process for the past three years. Is it frustrating? As all fuck. Is it necessary, though? Of course. And so I’ll soldier on and be grateful that I have a partner willing to listen and help carry my heavy baggage.
• There is no better indulgence than sleeping in late and lounging in pajamas all day. None.
• I will never be as into a game as I am when I’m watching Michigan State battle Michigan. (Thank you ESPN for airing the game–I love you.) The epic rivalry has me very invested since I’m a Spartan and very proud of that fact. I don’t understand why U of M feels it’s so much better than State, but it’s that snobbery that had me screaming at the Spartans this weekend. I’ve learned that when I’m super-invested in a game I’ll nearly have a heart attack at any fumble or move that isn’t of any benefit to my team. I’m glad I didn’t end up in the ER. And that the Spartans dominated the game for the fourth year in a row. Hurray!
• I’ve heard so much about how fabulous Modern Family is but I’ve never given it a chance. Well…I gave it half a chance when I turned on an episode last year, didn’t laugh, got bored and switched it. But then it swept the Emmy’s this year, so I Netflix’d the first season. Holy shit! So funny! So layered! So my new favorite obsession!  (And how much do I love Cameron and Mitchell? They’re so great. I want to be friends with them.) It was a great way to spend a weekend.
• The Water Park of America? Also awesome. I spent my day off playing there and falling in love with the Lazy River that ran through the park. Floating on a raft in a warm park? Yes. Going down swirly water slides and screaming my head off? Hell yeah! I don’t even mind the bruises that decorate my knees and thighs right now because it was so damn fun. It’s a perfect way to play hooky.
• I’ve decided to use the words “lovely” and  ”whimsical” more. Because I adore those words. Ooh! I want to use “adore” more as well!
• I decided to weed through my wardrobe this past weekend to get rid of stuff I no longer wear. What I found is that it’s hard for me to part with clothes. I have blouses I haven’t worn in a good eight to ten months, yet I love them so. Instead of getting rid of them I’ve issued myself a challenge: wear a new outfit of clothes I haven’t worn in at least six months each day this week. Challenge ON! I already have three of the outfits planned. The only issue? What accessories to pair with the fabulous-ness? It’s going to be fun! Game and week ON!

Sunday School: the Inaugural Edition

It’s no secret that I love reflection. I’ve known as the Question Queen within my professional staff (though, um, I may have given myself that nickname) and students tell me that the questions I ask them are “hard”. I think that there are lessons to be learned in most of life’s moments and that the smallest things can affect and change a person’s life. With that in mind I’m implementing Sunday School, a weekly round-up of the things I’ve learned throughout the previous week. These things may or may not be profound or earth-shattering, they might light-hearted or reminders of life lessons past that I’ve remembered or relearned thanks to something that’s happening in my life. In any case, this is a way for me to reflect on the week and the things I’ll take from it.

Lessons learned (or relearned) this week:

• Sometimes the best bonding doesn’t happen over intentional trainings or lessons but over cupcakes or because someone asks how to master liquid eyeliner. (For the record I am really good at it, and love to spread the gospel of the classic liquid eyeliner look.)
• I’m not as undomesticated as I thought since I masterd a cheesy rice and chicken caserole AND managed to whip up six dozen cupcakes for my hall-wide Cupcakes at Krissy’s program.
• Students love cupcakes. And talking about how stupid their classes are. (“How are your classes going?” “STUPID.”  “UGH!” “Is it Christmas yet?”)
• I feel a lot more centered and on top of life when I don’t have clutter all over my table, desk and/or counter. Good to know.
• If you choose to only talk to me via text I’ll think you’re passive aggressive and I’ll re-evaluate my relationship with you.
• Despicable Me is now up there with Lilo and Stitch in terms of Movies That Never Fail to Make Me Laugh No Matter What. Ever.
• Skype is a God-send in a long-distance relationship. I feel so much closer to my guy after we Skype. There’s just something about seeing the face of the person you love. Viva la technology!
• The website Pinterest is a new-found obsession that makes me think I’m very crafty. I’ve found approximately 3940398 new ideas I want to try in terms of parties, recipes, crafts and writing prompts. I’ve yet to determine whether this is a good or bad thing….
• I’m a tween in the fact that I really enjoy Big Time Rush on Nickelodeon. Like, really enjoy it. It’s brain candy that features an adorable boy band. Boy band!!! From watching it this weekend I’ve determined that *NSync may always have my heart and also that Logan is too adorable for words. Also, this show makes me giggle.
• The best way to cap off a weekend is to drink a couple of glasses of wine. Yummm.

May-hem

Today’s been the kind of day that sounds good on paper: an all-morning training session that fits in with career goals and professional development.  Chinese buffet for lunch. Lots of good stuff going on job-wise. Glee night.

In reality however, I’m left with a bitter taste in my mouth because of the day. The first half of the day was great. Fabulous even! Moments like the first half of my day inspire me to learn, grow and figure out my shit, life-wise. But as the day progressed I realized just how long my to-do list was and how little time I have to figure some shit out. Small crises seem to be popping up all around and the only way I want to truly solve them is to yell at people. Lots. Like “get your shit together and stop bothering people” yelling.

And then Glee sucked tonight so that didn’t help. (Seriously? No group numbers? All Broadway songs? No true forward-motion with anything? WTF, writers?!?)

The hardest part of this whole thing, though, is knowing that my biggest support system is many states away dealing with his own crises and stresses. Knowing that I can’t do a lot to help him and realizing that there isn’t a lot he can do to help me was a rude awakening tonight. It’s the first time in a long time where I’ve felt helpless and a bit invalidated. What do you do when all you really want is a hug from your boyfriend? How do you cope when you’re on the phone curled up in a fetal position because you’re stressed and you’re hearing stress coming across the wire from the person you love? How can you focus on love and compassion when you know there isn’t a lot you can do to solve each others’ problems so the words come out as exclamations of frustration?

Today’s been a lot to take. I’m left with more questions than answers and I’m feeling unsure how to navigate these waters. As I wrapped up my conversation with my partner tonight all I could do was whimper “is it May yet?” Because sometimes the only thing I can do is look forward to a brighter future. Hopefully it’s one filled with hugs on stressful days.

The No-Car Conundrum

I am officially without a car. Truth be told, I’ve technically been sans car since the Spring. Only then I was in denial–I’ll fix it, it’s fine! Mighty Rexy will roar again. Only…not so much. The car was a 1993 Grand Am–they’re not exactly built to last forever. And when I said I’d drive it until I ran it into the ground? Mission accomplished there.

I was fine with driving it until it died for a couple of reasons:
   a.) new (or newer) cars are expensive and I liked not having a monthly bill that would set me back hundreds of dollars.
   b.) I wasn’t sure where life would take me and I didn’t want to be saddled down with a vehicle if there was a chance I’d end up in a place like Chicago or Seattle. You know–a city with good public transportation options. I’m all about utilizing my options and not driving whenever possible.

My issue now, however, is that I’m, uh, not living in a city. I live in a rural area where a vehicle is necessary. Kind of. I live where I work so I don’t have to worry about a commute, which is a big blessing. But I’m stuck because I don’t necessarily want to purchase a vehicle. I don’t have the money to buy a car outright (I work in the field of higher ed–professionals in this field aren’t exactly millionaires) and I don’t know that I want to be saddled with a car loan and insurance payment. I enjoy having money–and the freedom to travel and buy clothes and non-generic groceries. Plus there’s the uncertainty of the future–what if I’m not living in a rural area for that much longer? Why invest in something that I may not use for that long?

That’s not to say that just because I’m choosing at this moment to not have a car that it isn’t frustrating. Because it is. I’m a highly independent woman so having to depend on others sucks. A lot. I stress out when I ask friends if I can go with them to buy groceries. Impromptu trips to Target are super-exciting just because I don’t get to go there as much as I’d like at the moment.  And it sucks not having the freedom to jump in my car and see a movie on a whim or travel to the Cities for an art exhibit or musical. It feels like I’m a caged bird. Or like my wings are clipped. Take your pick of metaphors. Any way you look at it, it’s not fun. I’m just torn about what to do.

I realize that at some point I’m going to need to put on my big-girl pants and deal with this. I’m not blind or stupid. But for some reason I feel paralyzed by fear over this whole thing because I have massive fears of budgets and debt. I haven’t dealt with it up until this point because of that. Foolishly I think that my problem will magically be solved–I’ll win the lottery or somehow be gifted a car. (Hey, it could happen.) I’m realistic enough to know that’s probably not the case, but I feel frozen. All I know at the moment is that I don’t like how stressed I am about something that amounts to a hunk of metal and a first world problem. Innately I know that everything will work out, I just need to be patient. And smart. And intentional. In the meantime I’ll be grateful for the fact that I live-on and I have plenty to do to keep me busy. I’m looking at this time in my life as a creative and minimalist challenge that I’m thankful for. Because this may be a shitty and stressful situation but I refuse to let it bring me down. I’m too good for that.

The Optimist Creed

I advise a student group on my campus that’s a branch of a world-wide organization called Optimist International. I know, right? Doesn’t the name just make you smile? I absolutely adore my group (and their shirts with the catchphrase on the back that says “our glass is always half full”) but more than that, it’s inspiring. Because it’s a student branch of an international organization, the Optimists have some fun traditions. My favorite thing at the moment is the Optimist Creed, which I think is great food for thought and provides words to live by. This is said at the beginning of every meeting and each member gets a wallet-size copy to carry with them so they can live by these words. Personally, I’m trying to incorporate the principals more into my life, especially on days when I’m feeling down or stabby or stressed.

• Promise Yourself …
  - To be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind.
  - To talk health, happiness and prosperity to every person you meet.
  - To make all your friends feel that there is something in them.
  - To look at the sunny side of everything and make your optimism come true.
  - To think only of the best, to work only for the best, and to expect only the best.
  - To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as you are about your own.
  - To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future.
  - To wear a cheerful countenance at all times and give every living creature you meet a smile.
  - To give so much time to the improvement of yourself that you have no time to criticize others.
  - To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear, and too happy to permit the presence of trouble.

I Want the World to See You Be With Me

Six months ago today he reached for my hand and took the first tiny step to a relationship. Six months ago I didn’t want a relationship and thought I was in no place to even explore such a thing. Six months ago I had no idea that a relationship was about to bloom. Today I am so happy that my boyfriend summoned up the courage to take my hand. Today I can’t imagine my life without him.

I am the first to admit that I am in an unconventional relationship. Because I am. How the relationship began was unconventional—I didn’t know he had feelings or wanted to explore anything more than a friendship with me. Where we both are in life is unconventional—he’s just moved to a new state 1,800 miles from me and is beginning multiple new chapters in his life for a variety of reasons while I’m trying to figure out who I am on the brink of a new decade of my life and perhaps in my field and career. And then there’s the obvious reason we’re unconventional—my boyfriend is 15 years older than me. We’ll never be a part of the same generation. And while some have frowned upon us pairing up (including a lot of strangers in public and a few whom I thought to be good friends), the past six months have taught me to stand straight, look life in the eye and take pride in the love I have for my boyfriend.

And do you know why?

Because he makes me happier than I’ve ever been in my life.

So I don’t give a damn if others view my relationship as weird or scandalous or anything other than how I see it. Because I’ve been a part of ordinary pairings and they’ve only led to frustration and heartache and bruises of many kinds. It’s taken a couple of epic fails to make me realize that I can’t be with somebody who doesn’t hold up to my standards. I can’t partner with a person who doesn’t understand that my talking fast and laughing loud and being crazy-spontaneous is who I am and not a random moment or phase that I’m going through. I need something extraordinary in my life.

And my boyfriend of six months? He kisses passionately and laughs just as loud at dorky things and expresses his emotions openly. He tells me how much he loves me on a daily (and sometimes hourly) basis. He’s a feminist man who is excited to learn about the two of us and me and random topics in the world. He supports everything that I do and he isn’t afraid to show me how much he cares. This is the type of man that I’ve been looking for—only I didn’t know it until I’d survived several love landmines.

I’m not sure where our relationship is going. What I do know is that I am so grateful to have him in my life and I love the direction that our journey is taking us. Today I celebrate my partner and the past six months we’ve had together because they’ve been incredible. I hope to celebrate many more anniversaries on my journey with him.

Seared in My Memory

I’m always impressed when people can recall the crazy details of their days, their memories, their lives. I’m not good at that. I remember feelings, thoughts, reactions, emotions. I had multiple conversations with my mom about the events that shaped her life: the Kennedy assassination, the moon landing, Watergate, the births of her daughters. She can remember not only the emotions of those days, but where she was and all sorts of details. She assured me that if a time ever came in my life where I’d witness history in the making, I’d remember the minutiae.  I doubted her.

And then the morning of September 11, 2001 occured.

I was up early that morning to take my car to the shop for a minor repair. It was a gorgeous fall morning in Marquette. I went back to my dorm room to get ready for my 10 am class. I loved watching music videos to help get me going. A Sugar Ray video was on as I sat on my bed prepping notes for class. It cut out suddenly to a news report. I was so annoyed–if I wanted news I’d turn on CNN. The footage that was being shown was of New York City, smoky and devastating. It looked like it was on fire; I was so confused. It took a bit of listening to the reports to understand what was happening. I thought we were at war for a minute, not that we were under attack.  The second building hadn’t fallen yet. My mind blanked when I saw the second plane crash into the building. I couldn’t watch any more after that. I couldn’t comprehend how something so awful could be happening. I didn’t want to think about how many were dying, how much hurt was going on in the world at that moment. I didn’t want to go to class but I didn’t want to watch anymore.

I didn’t want to think about it.

The campus was somber. People didn’t look at each other as they trudged to their classrooms. The ones who did look up from the ground had tears in their eyes or grimaces on their faces. We were all in disbelief. Hurt, raw and vulnerable, radiated everwhere I turned. I was silly to think that class would be a sanctuary from the hurt. Instead of learning, each session became a mini therapy session. Most women were crying and several men dabbed at their eyes, uncomfortable with showing  emotion to peers. We each took turns talking about what we were feeling.  None of us could understand what was happening. We were scared for the country.

At dinner that night my friends and I tried to make sense of what was happening. We couldn’t stop watching the news, but there were no answers. We didn’t know what to make of anything. One friend, in an effort to make some sense of the tragedy, pointed out that her Disney Days calendar for the day showed a picture of Captain Hook, a villain who comes off as so dashing and confident but who has an Achilles heel like everyone else. We’d spent our lives thinking our country was invincible, but perhaps we’re no better off than that silly pirate captain. It was food for thought. It was all we had. That and prayer, which we fervently did at a circle that night with most of the other residents in the hall. That was the first time I cried, heaving sobs as the day wore me down. I had friends in the Army, the National Guard–would they end up overseas fighting because of this?

When it was my turn to share in class, I’d shared that I didn’t know what to make of the tragedy unfolding around us. I was hurt and confused like everyone else and I didn’t understand what was happening. But I also shared that I thought good could come from this, that we should love and support our friends, family members and fellow Americans because the hurt was so raw and palpable. I knew that this would be a defining moment in our history, but that we could turn it into something good if we intentionally reached out to others. If we acted in a loving way to help ease the pain. I wanted good to come from the tragic.

I still do.

I’m still devastated when I hear stories of lost loved ones, of heroes who saved others but gave their lives in the process.  I hear about 9/11 and I’m 19 again, raw and confused about the day that changed my country. I simply cannot comprehend the sheer tragedy of the lives lost and devastated by the events of that single day. But I hear stories of people coming together to help and support each other. Of heroes who changed lives, of the volunteers and service-people who survived and thrived. Of families who help the memories of loved ones live on. All of these things inspire me–if they can overcome the crisis and coax good from the ashes then we can all survive–and thrive. The world is full of suffering but it is also full of goodwill, love, strength and people who can harness those things to overcome it. September 11th to me is a day not of tragedy but of rebirth. We are strong. We will hurt, but we’ll persevere and overcome.  September 11, 2001 is a day seared into my memory for all of those reasons.