Wednesday, August 28, 2013

a clear perspective


One of my most loved poets, Oscar Wilde, once said: “Most people are other people. Their thoughts are someone else’s opinions, their lives a mimicry, their passions a quotation.” We are constantly told that the friends we choose determine the people we will become, as we unknowingly acquire the behaviors we observe. We are given counsel that those who we surround ourselves with, whether by choice or by circumstance, influence the very core of our beliefs, thoughts, and consequently, our actions. Our conscious life decisions shape our identities, as do the societal standards and influences placed on us as members of this American and worldwide society. This real and physical sphere we live in is made up of artificial structures based on expectations of belief, behaviors, and roles. As if it is crucial to our survival, we must understand that we are not only existing in this environment, but that we create and maintain these boundaries ourselves. According to social expectations, I am bound by the chains of artificial labels: White, female, brunette, artist, Mormon, student.
Aside from these obvious labels, there are countless other artificial labels that, while seeking to define self-identity, have the power to destroy it. These labels and expectations are the forces that drive our daily actions and thoughts. These are the forces that make us look in the mirror and decide on the self-empowering beliefs that we will choose to embrace: I am beautiful, I have so many wonderful qualities, I am kind, I am a good friend, I am a talented painter. However, this force is what also forms the self-limiting and destructive beliefs that we hold about ourselves: I am not funny enough, I am not charismatic enough, I am not pretty enough, I am not good enough, I am not smart enough, I will never be enough. These “I am” statements are what I believe to be the most powerful words in the universal language of human feeling. 
What we believe about ourselves and our own capacity determines every aspect of our existence. It not only affects the way in which we communicate, but defines our behaviors and actions. The traits we believe to be true about ourselves determine what we believe to be true about those who surround us, about our world, and about the society we choose to perceive as reality. Not only do our own beliefs make up our self-concept, but the evaluations of others and how we think they perceive us can change fundamental self-views. This explains why those who have been bullied or experienced trauma have an altered and unhealthy self-concept, as it was warped by the evaluations and treatment of others. As Latter-day Saints, we are not only expected but also required to attain certain standards. By my parents, both of whom I believe to be the best parents I could ask for, I was taught by silent expectation rather than spoken principle. Through my childhood and adolescence, I attended church each Sunday, only then to be conflicted by what I observed the other six days of the week. We are taught “right from wrong,” yet what we are being taught is contradictory to that which we observe on a daily basis in our environments. How can we develop a healthy moral compass when we are taught to give selflessly, yet blindly ignore men on the street corner asking for spare change?
One crucial aspect of early childhood is our gender, which we begin to understand as early as fifteen months old. By age three, we have formed a foundational gender identity that will remain rigid through the remainder of our lives. Upon reaching this, children begin to understand culturally-derived gender roles, associating certain behaviors with that of either a feminine or masculine role. As young children, we struggle to create an identifying relationship between ourselves, others, and the world around us. Through this process of self-discovery, we subconsciously adjust our predisposed identity to closer match those of our families, friends, and societal system. Based on societal beliefs in the role of families, this gender identity should be taught in the home. Yet what happens when the child’s influences come from television or movies that glorify a sexually based identity? 
From the moment we enter this earth, we are bombarded with society’s ideas of what is important: Possessions, money, status, and appearance, which is focused on a sexually based identity. Social networking has also become an important aspect in the way we view ourselves and others, and with social media on the rise, authentic interaction in social relationships and in the family structure has declined drastically. Because social media is such an integral aspect of society, it influences any of us who so much as leave the house. We are imprinting our children with the responsibility to feed into this influence because controlling social expectation is a profitable business. 
In both our country as a whole and in the Mormon church, education is held to be of utmost importance, whether the motivation be for financial success or personal agenda. We are taught through the scriptures and by prophets to study and obtain knowledge in preparation for our lives. Not only is education encouraged, it is tied closely with social standing. But why? It is said that we live in the land of opportunity, yet 75% of Americans with college degrees say they are middle class, and the other 25% are struggling to make ends meet. It is true that college graduates earn a significant amount more per year than those who do not attend college, but even with a bachelor’s degree, you join the force of middle class workers who support a consumerism-based society and a profit-based economy. As a woman in the church, I am expected to gain an education to one day teach my children about the world and about the gospel, guiding them in the way of righteousness. Yet despite there being equal pressure on both men and women to gain an education, equal rewards and rights are not given. Women make only seventy-seven cents to every dollar earned by a man working the same job, partially due to occupational choices made by women, but also partially due to immeasurable factors. Beyond this, women of color experience an even higher wage gap with their male counterparts.
Throughout our history, men have held more civil rights, wealth, property, and general status than women, who have been refused equal rights. Yet despite women not receiving equal rights, they are expected to raise our future’s children. As a woman, I am required to be: Skinny, dainty, a housewife, available to fulfill men’s desires. I am constantly bombarded with media images that sexualize and degrade the role of women, advertising that “thin is in.” Women are receiving the message perhaps thousands of times a day that the most important thing about womanhood is not our minds, hearts, and abilities – it is our sex appeal, our beauty. Television programming and online social networks communicate that being stick skinny is the sole way to achieve the societal idea of beauty, and that sex is not only required of us by men, but also risk-free. As women, we reside in the dusty and folded pages of magazines that limit the spectrum of beauty to one ideal, suffocating our self-worth into compartments as narrow as a tube of lipstick. Not only do media and society support self-hatred, they thrive off of it. The model industry is in search of the perfect Barbie girl, when in fact, if Barbie were life-sized, she would stand at six feet tall and be 110 pounds, fitting the weight criteria for anorexia. She would most likely not menstruate, not be able to bear children, and have to walk on all fours because of her proportions. Yet, we readily embrace this as a societal expectation. We not only accept this Barbie doll requirement, we obsess over it so extremely that women will go days without eating, or will binge and purge. The desire to be perfect has the untamed power to drive women and young girls alike to depression, self-hatred, and eventually self-harm.
So, what does this all mean for myself as an individual? 
My beliefs about these societal norms are some of my most precious thoughts, and I am more than acutely aware of the dangerous society in which I live, one based on false advertising, body shaming, and unrealistic expectations. However, because my sense of self has emerged through social interaction within this label-based society, it is assumed that many aspects of my belief system are based on that which I have observed throughout my life. It is only natural that I am absolutely a result of my environment. My beliefs, behaviors, and actions are all in accordance with what I have observed to be appropriate or expected. To restate the previously quoted Oscar Wilde quote, “Most people are other people.” My self-identity is based upon the identities of others and the way they have defined preexisting social identities. Because I follow a map guiding the requirements for social roles, when fulfilling my own roles, I ask: What does it mean to be a daughter, student, Mormon, friend, or sister? The answer that may come to my mind may partially be due to my own thoughts and self-discovery, but are partially made of these preexisting standards.
The mastermind of a worldwide standard meticulously calculates every move I make, from when I awake in the morning to when my head hits the pillow. Upon waking, I begin in the monotonous routine that for women is referred to as simply “getting ready,” typically involving an hour of blow drying, straightening, applying make up, plucking, primping, and prepping for the day, all of which is viewed as mandatory. Here in lies the distinct flaw in our system of physical standards: the phrase “getting ready” communicates that we wake up not ready and “unfinished,” as if the lines on our face mark the pages of a book yet to be written. In my heart and soul, I know that I am complete and whole as a perfect daughter of Heavenly Father. I know that I am a divine being, and not only blessed with countless talents and abilities, but blessed with a physical body created in the image of our perfect and loving God. Despite this glorious and infinite creation, millions of women gaze into their reflection each day with empty eyes and hollow hearts.
But why in the world is all of this so important?
It is important because we race through days, months, and years without once considering the influences that are impacting our behaviors and beliefs. As human beings, it is in our instinctive nature to protect and preserve what we know to be true. Viewing society through a transparent lens may potentially be painful or shocking, but it is imperative that we do in order to gain a full perspective of our reality. Through the process of writing this, I was able to both gain new insight and question the way that I am living as a woman in American society. I know not who will read these words, but it is my hope that as a society, even if only within my own university, we begin to expand our personal understanding of the social constructs we yield to. A woman named Andrea Gibson, whom I feel I know well through her words and poetry, has transformed the way I view so many dark areas of my own human vulnerability. In one of her poems, she quotes an Indian writer, Jiddu Krishnamurti, who stated, “It is no measure of good health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.”
I implore you. Wake up. It is my wish for us all to understand our own boundless worth and ability. I absolutely believe that we are products of our environment, and because of this, it is crucial that we alter our environments to match that which we hope to become. If this means making changes, make them. Despite what your parents believe you should do, if you want to go to school for Music, chase after that with all your passion and power. Although harsh social expectations exist and are real, you are not limited within the hollow bounds of their screaming sounds. Be louder than the noise and stronger than the fight.  

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

home

It'll be hard and different, but I know that there will be more overwhelmingly wonderful moments that shake you with truth so hard and fast that it will leave you feeling cored-out, smiling and thinking: THIS, this moment right now, is what it's all about. 
So, this is growing up huh? Shoot. Didn't think it would come this fast. But I'm ready, and I know that you are too. It's about flying across the country in search of something more than this sleepy town has in store for you. About feeling completely scared shitless and innocently brave all at the same time. Sorting and shifting between what matters and what doesn't. The space between leaving and left; but still remembering what it feels like to be home.
Leaving home, I have a steady heart beat and open, clear eyes fixed on the clay which shaped me - sculpted into me my dreams of the future, giving me this innocent, blind trust in one shaky stride forward. I have one foot in the sand, and one foot through the kitchen door, clinging to that reliable "AM, I missed you" even though only twenty hours had passed since our last hello's. I have a duffel full of threads, each backward stitch pulled through the trust in your handshake. The black suitcase full of containers, some empty, awaiting the depth of late nights, spent hovering over my sheets and dreaming of the infinite space between what is now yesterday and what will become tomorrow.

Arizona, I love the souls you cradle in your cotton candy sunsets, the snapshots of crystal coated dreams in a scorching summer. Grid system cruises across this whole damned city just to see panoramic glow, fingers interlocked with junior prom and hard learned lessons. The strings of your guitar lacing my shoes, lifting me through this dark alley lined with love letters and mixed CDs that only could be written as Perfection. Arizona, I carry you in my heart.

Monday, June 17, 2013

when you love someone

"Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made or dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused." Alan Cohen

How beautiful it is to give love and feel love. But love only exists when it is unconditional, without judgement, and given freely. When you love someone, you do not wish change on their imperfections. You don't tell them, "I wish you were going into nursing" when they want to start a band. You try your best to trust that they will make the best decision for themselves because you know their heart. When you love someone, you answer their calls late at night, and even if you're too tired to talk back, you listen for as long as they need. When you love someone, you are never too busy for them. You forget to answer text messages because you're at work, but you call them to say you've been thinking about them. You ask them to go grocery shopping with you, because you are a little busy, but it's nice to have them by your side in the produce section. When you love someone, you forget their middle name, their favorite color, and what they want for their birthday. But you know their dreams, aspirations, what hurts them, what they'd like to accomplish. You know the darkness of their soul because you remember every time they cried to you. When you love someone, you call them out on their crap, and you don't let them get away with things. You tell them when they're being dramatic, because you want them to tell you when you are. Sometimes you're harsh, but they need you to be. When you love someone, you let them have their alone time. You understand that they need time to recharge and be away from you. When you love someone, you can sit in quiet and enjoy each other's company. You study the details of their face that you have always loved, and silently compare arm freckles. It's a beautiful thing when you have the same arm freckles as your brother, because it must mean you have a special kind of love.

When you love someone, you allow them to do things that make them happy. Even if they want to move far away from you, you tell them you'll write them every day. You will miss them terribly, so you send them light and love with every breath, and you let them go.

Monday, June 10, 2013

marriage and being single

Yesterday, we were invited to spend the day at my grandparent's friend's house up in Osoyoos, BC. While eating lunch, the topic of marriage came up, and the 80-some year olds all spoke about how much "times have changed" and how it used to be that girls were getting married at 16. Our host for the day turned to me and asked when I was planning on getting married, a question I was asked dozens of times at my sister's wedding (which I was 17 at, by the way). I responded as gracefully as I could, saying I had no plans to marry any time soon. He then said, "If you aren't getting married, that doesn't leave you many other things to do, now does it? What will you do if you don't get married? Girls can't do anything without a husband."

Not only is this hurtful, but it's completely stupid, for lack of a better word. This generalization marginalizes women, and myself as an empowered and capable individual. It communicates that without getting married, I am powerless. I have heard dozens of adults, as well as members of my church in their late 20's say, "Once you hit 25, you need to start worrying." Start worrying? 25 is the prime of your life. I look at the next 10 years of my life as a time of endless opportunity. I could finish school, move to another country, start a career, all while being single. I've been single thus far in my life, and I'm happy as a clam. So, the question, what will you do if you don't get married? really should be, what can you NOT do if you don't get married? I completely invite and love the possibility of having a family and being a mother, but I'm 19, so you can't blame me for thinking other possibilities are pretty great too. I'm open to having a life partner, but I'll be okay whether this happens in the next 5 years or the next 15. I believe in the plan of families, but I don't believe in the constant cultural and religious pressures placed on young adults to date and get married. I view myself as an independent woman and despite the culture I have been brought up in, I will not allow others to place a timeline on my life decisions. I will not rush into a marriage or relationship because it's what I am "supposed to do."

Also at lunch yesterday, the couple hosting us spoke of their 35 year old son who is unmarried and "must be so unhappy, lost, and have no goals in life." It shocked me that such words could be said about their son, especially in front of guests. What is unfair is for others, strangers or family, to judge someone's spiritual and emotional place in life, and whether they are or "should be" ready for certain decisions. What is unfair is for young adults to be degraded to someone only good enough to marry someone and lean on them for personal self worth. It is wrong for someone to assume that someone is single because something is wrong with them. In my eyes, self worth is determined by one thing, which is that you are a child of God, and a human being on Earth to have beautiful experiences. I believe that these are best spent however makes you happy, whether that be within a marriage or on your own.

To anyone reading this, I hope you know that you are loved and have precious value in the eyes of your Heavenly Father, regardless of your relationship status or what path you choose to take in life. You are capable, strong, and powerful as an individual.

Canoeing Vaseux Lake, our trip to British Columbia

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

distance

Crouching Lion Hike
When the one you want is 4,103 miles away
take that skirt they used to love in 2011
rip along it's seams and pile the strips
tie them around your ankles
dance around your room, bare skinned
fall to the floor, roped and weeping

When the one you love is across the Pacific
build a boat, sail as far as your book will pull you
cling to the shoreline and crawl your way back
say you are sorry one thousand times
take the ropes and tie them down
tell them they are your only



So, does distance really make the heart grow fonder? My new answer is yes. The first experience I had with this phrase was when my big sister moved across the country for college. It wasn't until the week before she left that I realized that she was my best friend and had always been an example to me. Partly because I was a bratty 14 year old at the time, but partly because I realized all at once that she wouldn't be there if I grew out of my brattiness, because she was going on to have her own life. The night before she left for school, we sat on her bed until four in the morning, talking and crying, apologizing for all of the terrible things we had done and said to each other over the past 14 years.

After 19 years of living in Phoenix, I'm going to school in Hawaii, which is absolutely terrifying for me since I have never even considered moving so far away from home. It wasn't until my moving date was a month away that I realized how many people have impacted my life in Phoenix that I never thanked. Even people I had grown apart from or broken up with or gotten in a huge fight with my sophomore year of high school. I didn't realize how many things I had to say to them until I thought I might never see them again. It's not like I'll be coming home for Christmas break and hanging out with all of these people I haven't talked to in years. So I did a weird thing, very uncharacteristic of my high school-loathing self, and I went to my high school graduation with my ex boyfriend (from high school). As I walked around campus, I felt more emotion and nostalgia that I ever felt at my own graduation, only because I no longer will be in the same city as all of these people who changed my life in one way or another.

There was one person that I knew I needed to speak to, to thank for all of the things she taught me and did for me, and it was one of the best decisions I could have ever made. Distance is a strange thing. I hadn't talked to her in a year and a half, but we were still in the same city, so it was as if nothing had drastically changed. If I wanted to reconnect, she would have been there in an instant, but having her close never brought the thought. Knowing that I would be physically distant made me reflect on how crucial her influence had been in my life. This person helped me discover more about myself than I ever could have on my own, and was my world for a time in high school. Distance made me go to her and tell her how important she was to me, and with distance separating us again, I am finally understanding how important time is. As cliche as it sounds (and is), I learned how important it is to tell people you love them when you have the opportunity, and to tell them openly, honestly, and frequently.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

three summers

Groom Creek, Prescott AZ
There are branches of my past 
meant to catch flames and vanish from the park
like you made me disappear that summer day

Parts of me meant to collapse
crashing with certainty and lust
with the hope that I was never lying beneath those ashes

There are leaves of my body, diseased
meant to fall hard to the moss
like the draw bridge of a broken entrance

But you are the last breath of air in this dark chamber
your beauty held with inherited chains

I gasp for your warmth
that familiar feeling




It's been almost three rounds of summers now since I have been home. When I first came home, I went to bed at 9:30 every night and tucked in my shirt for months. I asked my mom to go to the bathroom and for a long while, and I struggled with feeling like I would never be able to move on and heal. I felt as if these parts of my life needed to be obliterated and not spoken about, because I knew I would not be understood or heard. For a long time (and sometimes still), I feel as if I will never meet anyone who can identify with these experiences. Mostly because this is true, and you never meet people that have been in a program. There was tremendous shame surrounding so much of my life and I felt suffocated by the smoke wrapped around those years that I would never be able to escape. I've discovered, actually, that I can't get away from any part of my life, even if I tried. This realization was painful for two years, but recently I have learned that I don't need to burn these branches of myself.

I have the same shell as I did three summers ago, but continually find new interests and new beautiful things to fill it with. There are so many aspects of myself that, three years ago, I would have been terrified to face. This summer brings a new day, as I am beginning to feel more whole. I am beginning to feel that I am capable of achieving whatever I want to do, with the (almost) surety that I will have people there to support me in those dreams. I have a better understanding of myself, and what is important to me in my life. When asked by a school assignment to write about 5-year goals, the only thing that came to mind was "be happy." Somehow, someway, find out what will make me happy and feel fulfilled and free, and go after it. Sure, it's a rather flexible and unstructured dream and wouldn't be considered a "goal" by most standards. But to me, it's finally enough. After all of those "SMART" goals I had to make for program seminars, I've learned goals don't really work. I don't need to journal for 45 minutes each night to effectively express myself and get things out. This summer, I figured it out. If I go after what I want, I will accomplish all of my goals in one swoop. Super convenient, actually.

I feel like I have started to overcome my greatest obstacle: myself. Once I am able to fully embrace and accept every aspect of myself, it becomes easier for those around me to as well. After discovering that I cannot escape years of my life, I have grown to love those years, and to look to them every day. Often times, sitting in those dark times for an hour or so makes the next several hours of light so much brighter, more vibrant, and much more appreciated.

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

floating

You threw it into the ripples, carelessly and recklessly, without wheels. You ripped it from your chest, blessed it with your breath, then allowed your fingers to unfold. The water held it tightly, rocking the boxes gently down, down. 
I, weaker each moment, strained to grab hold of it to slowly pull it under water. Hold it there suffocating long enough to make it float up blue. I am forced through chained fences of ocean. I stay floating, in limbo.