I [Insert Verb] My Life

I filled this out on my birthday in 2005... and tonight. I thought it was kind of fun to compare my answers now, and then.

I am not: as socially inept as I used to be / ready to have a family
I hurt: when I dwell on the past too long / when I am alone and unwanted
I love: living close to my family again / my friends
I hate: when people make me feel stupid / when people discriminate
I hope: that my life will count for something / to grow up to be the woman God wants me to be
I hear: a lot of negativity / the cries of the hurting
I crave: this one hasn't changed > someone to spend the rest of my life with
I regret: letting myself be led astray / time wasted in high school
I cry: during almost every movie / when I feel lonely
I always: leave for work later than I mean to / dream
I long to: know God more deeply / love God supremely
I feel alone: some nights when I come back to an empty apartment / rarely, yet often
I listen: to anyone who needs to talk / to those who want an ear or two
I hide: very little / how I feel behind fake smiles and pat answers
I drive: the car my parents bought when I was 11 / rarely
I sing: in the car, loudly / when my heart is happy
I dance: with Brazilians, and Jessica / when someone is playing a rap song
I write: for a living / all the time about everything
I breathe: possibly the most polluted air of my life / borrowed air
I play: very, very competitively / basketball with a passion
I miss: my closest friends... and Denver / living in Texas
I search: for direction / for God's will
I feel: hopeful, yet impatient / tired and busy
I know: I'm extremely blessed / how to do stupid things, yet have fun
I say: sometimes too much, other times, too little / idiotic statements too many times
I succeed: when I give up control / when God is guiding me
I fail: when I try to control my life / when I try on my own and don't get enough sleep
I sleep: about 7 hours a night / too few hours
I want: more of Jesus in my life / to love and to be loved
I have: a whole heck of a lot, yet I still want more... / all I need, though I'm not always convinced
I give: as much as I can / my time, but never enough of it
I fight: only when I have to / over stupid things
I wait: a LOT / for everything good
I need: this one hasn't changed either > to spend more time with Jesus
I am: successful thanks to God's grace / beautiful, even without makeup
I think: I need You the most / too much
I can't help the fact that: I like to laugh at everything / I'm single
I stay: where God puts me, for once / on this path that God is leading me down

Remembering September 11

For some reason this year, the memory of Sept. 11, 2001, is so much more real, so much more impactful than any year before.

Is it because, now that I'm an adult and I know what it's like to lose people, I can somehow relate? Or is it just that now, a comprehension of the weight of what happened, of the grief, causes me to feel more than I did before?

I don't really know, but I do know what's true. People always used to say, "You will remember exactly where you were the day you heard the towers fell." And they were right. It's one of the few days I distinctly remember from high school.

I was 15 years old, a sophomore at Grand Blanc High School, and in my third period U.S. history class when one of my classmates came in and told us that a plane had flown into one of the World Trade Center towers. Not having been given any details, in my mind I questioned, was it an accident? Was it something small like a Cessna?

Throughout the day, it became more clear as the details were shared. By the time I was walking away from the bus stop after the school day ended, a sense of dread was filling what I remember to be a beautifully clear, sunny day. I walked toward the house where I was staying with some family friends, wondering what else was going on in the world. And hoping nothing was happening in Dallas, where my parents were still living.

It was strange to be separated from family that day, to know that miles stretched between, and to not feel entirely safe, wondering how many planes had been commandeered and where they were flying to.

When I got to the house I was allowed to briefly call my mom. Of course my family was safe. We were all watching tv, tuned in to the same images of the burning, then collapsing buildings. All of our minds were filled with similar questions. What was going on and why?

I remember President Bush giving his address. Saying that action would be taken, we wouldn't just sit back defenseless, justice would be served. I remember people loved him that day. They rallied behind him, cheering him on. He represented what we all felt in our hearts, that no one should be allowed to do this to us and triumph. His approval ratings soared.

Ten years have passed. It seems so strange to say. When things happen and you live through them, it almost feels like you'll be in that moment forever. That life will somehow stay as it is and you will go on being just as you are.

But this is not the case. Since 9-11, I graduated from high school and from college. I've landed jobs, I've traveled, I've made some of the best friends I could ask for. I've been in love and out of it, I've shared tears and triumphs and I've gone on living. So much has changed from that day, and yet I still remember it with clarity and now, even more understanding.

Today I read some letters written to people who had been killed in the attacks. I couldn't get through a single one without choking back tears. It may have been a decade ago, but time hasn't made a single person forget what they lost. I don't think another ten years will, either. We will always go on remembering.

And why is that? Why do we cling so tightly to these memories? Why don't we allow ourselves to forget? Because people matter. They are worth far more than anything else in this life, and if you look at something like Sept. 11, you will see why. You will see that people's lives were forever changed the day they lost their mother, husband, sister, boyfriend, cousin. And you will see that something this tragic causes us to cling to memories, to honor lives lost, in ways we remember little else.

Find someone you love this Sept. 11, and tell them what they mean to you. Tell someone why you appreciate them, why they are special to you. The time we have with the people we care for is so precious, and can be so short. So let's make the most of what we have, and never take for granted those we love.

I found the photos in this Sept. 11 memorial post from 2009 very moving, and worth sharing. (There is some graphic content, however, so please view with discretion.)

The Outsider's Guide to Fitting In: Being Single

Let's just get it out there now: I am single. (What? Did she just admit that in writing?!)

Yes, friends and random readers, the truth is, I'm about as single as they come. This has led to some interesting things over the years, which I was compelled to share in another edition of "The Outsider's Guide to Fitting In" (truth written in spoof-y sarcasm, gotta love it). This is for all you folks who haven't quite adjusted to the flashing neon label, or who won't have to because you haven't worn it since high school. Whatever the case, enjoy for your own benefit or at my expense.

Status: Single
You don't need to broadcast your relationship status on places like Facebook; it will get broadcasted for you. You don't even have to tell people you're single, they'll just know. So don't bother trying to hide it because you can't. It might as well be tattooed across your forehead which brings me to my second point...

You Need Help
Since you're a single adult, you must need help meeting people. You must be looking to meet people. You must want to meet people. People, as in people to date. And even if you think you're not looking, everyone else knows you are. So don't try fighting it, just jump on the band wagon. You're bound to meet someone great, like my cousin's neighbor's best friends' brother. He's single too!

We Have a Group For You
When you're an unmarried adult, you get to go to the SINGLE GROUP! (Freak out!) Yes, there is a special group for people just like YOU! Since you can't really relate to anyone who isn't single, you must spend all your time with this group of misfits. Don't worry though, the old marrieds will be making you some free dinners this week. Sort of an outreach thing...

So... What's Wrong with You?
Once you reach a certain age, if you haven't met the illusive "one," there must be something wrong with you. After all, most normal people meet someone and get married in their mid-to-late 20s. If you pass this bracket, people begin to question what your deal is. What's the issue, what's the catch? What's wrong with you?

Let Me Set You Up!
Besides the fact that you need help, people will be looking to set you up on dates. Beware the mom who starts talking about their single child, or the kid who starts talking about their single cousin. That's code for: I want you two to go out on a date. Beware, if they're older and single, there must be something wrong with them!

Have You Tried Online Dating?
"My son is giving online dating a go..." Yes, that will undoubtedly fix his singleness problem. If not, he can join the ranks in the single group and ponder what's wrong with him that he couldn't even meet someone on Match.com... My only word of advice when it comes to online dating: Be very wary. And that statistic on marriages? So not true.

You Can't be Happy Single
You may want to argue with this. Don't even bother. You're not happy. You can't be happy. Everyone else knows, there's no way to be happy and single. That's why, as long as you're not married, people will be looking to set you up on dates, without even asking you if you want to be set up. That's because they know, you're not happy. They don't have to ask.

Old Maid Stereo-Type
Should singleness be plaguing you into your elder years, be prepared to become the old maid. Or the confirmed old bachelor, if you're a guy. You're not the fun, cool, unmarried person. You're dumpy, frumpy and just plain old. Life passed you by and now people will look on you with pity as they ask themselves, "I wonder what's wrong with her?"

In Conclusion
Should singleness bother you... don't worry. There are plenty of people out there willing to help you out with your problem. Oh, and have you tried online dating?

Should you enjoy singleness... don't. Remember, you can't be happy. Unless... (gasp) are you happy?? No way! Me too!

What I Learned from... Getting Someone Arrested

Author's Note: This entry is a continuation of my series, "What I Learned from..." It's a series on life lessons and experiences I've had. Some, like this installment, are more serious. Therefore, readers may want to use discretion before reading this entry. I will, however, do my best to keep graphic content to a minimum. With that, welcome to What I Learned from... Getting Someone Arrested.

Some people call high school the "best years of your life." I used to think, "If these are my best years, I'd hate to see what's ahead." For me, high school represented the hardest years of my life for a long time.

It started when I was 15 and my family moved to Michigan. Scratch that, when I moved to Michigan without my family. I lived with some friends from our church for several months so I could start 10th grade on time.

Before moving to Michigan, I had lived a sheltered life in Dallas, Texas, attending private schools and being home schooled. I had a core group of close friends, and the most exciting things we did were try to talk to the boys we liked on the phone or go to Mavericks games. I never got into trouble, mostly because I never had the chance.

When I moved to Michigan, I started public school. Talk about a culture shock, and the kind of learning experience you don't send your kids to school for. It was a completely different world than anything I had ever experienced, and I did my best to remain invisible. Better to vanish in the crowd than stand out as the girl who learned a few new words this week or didn't know that smell was marijuana.

Somehow I got through sophomore year, blending and going fairly unnoticed. It was hard though, who wouldn't want to be like the popular girls and actually have a guy ask you to a dance? That's why, when junior year rolled around, and the good looking guy in my economics class started talking to me, I was soaking it up.

But, not all attention is good attention, as I started to learn. And maybe I had a sign hung around my neck that said "vulnerable" or "easy target" because it didn't take long for things to go downhill.

I learned later that it's called "sexual harassment" when people touch you inappropriately or say things of that nature. But when it was happening, something in my subconscious wanted it to make sense, wanted to write it off, tried to reason it away. Maybe it was just an accident, it could've been a mistake... But something else in my subconscious knew it wasn't an accident, it was wrong.

It took a while for me to bring it up. Honestly, I don't know how I did, it was so embarrassing. But somehow, in the car at a stoplight, I managed to tell my mom. That was all it took to start the landslide. Not a bad landslide, a good one. One that I didn't have to work at to keep it going. It went on its own.

My parents scheduled a time for me to meet with the private detective who worked for my school. That's when it really sunk in that this was a bigger deal than I had first thought. I didn't want to talk about what happened, so my dad did the talking for me. I remember feeling sick to my stomach, but instinctively I knew I needed to do this. The detective started investigating the situation right away, and then I knew it was serious.

A day or two later he pulled me out of class to give me an update. He had talked to the guy, who admitted to doing everything I had said. I was sort of shocked that he wouldn't protest it or lie and say he hadn't touched me. But the detective had it scribbled on his yellow legal tablet. It was official. And he was filing a warrant.

After that things went kind of fast. He got arrested, his family posted the bond, we went to court. Court was probably the scariest moment of all because I knew that I would have to face him. All I wanted was to not have to testify. I remember getting to the courthouse and being taken into a room with a bunch of lawyers in suits. They kept me there for a while because he was out in the hall. Everyone was stone-faced, but somehow I knew they were on my side and would protect me.

In the hearing, the judge said, "How do you plead?" And when his lawyer said, "Guilty," I knew I had won. I didn't really pay attention to the sentencing or what was said after that. It really didn't matter to me. All that mattered was that I had done it. I had spoken up, someone had listened and I had won.

* * * * *

It's been a long time since that day. But I carry with me always the things I learned. The biggest is that I have a voice. In fact, everyone has one, but not everyone uses it.

I learned that a lot of women do what I first did, we try to reason away what happened. It's a gut reaction to try to mentally "fix" it, to try to make it make sense. But anyone will tell you, it never does quite make sense. And when you realize that, you have one of two options. You can bury it down deep, ignore it and pretend it never happened. Or you can speak up, tell someone, and do something about it.

I think a lot of women choose the former, and suffer in silence. It takes a special kind to do the latter. But I realized something else, in being one of the ones to speak out, I didn't do it just for myself. I did it for the other women who might have been harassed by this guy. I did it for the other women who didn't know who to tell, who were scared no one would believe them, who felt defenseless.

In speaking out and finding my voice just once, I have found it over and over again. I'm not afraid to be the one person who calls someone out, who reports a wrong, who faces injustice head-on. I am not afraid to listen to someone else share their story, and support them however I can. I learned that I not only had a voice for myself, but I had a voice for others.

I also learned that having a voice can be hard and scary. There were so many times I wanted to back down. I wanted to just be done with everything and not have to face it. It's hard to be strong when you're looking evil in the eye. But I also learned that if you can beat it, you can beat anything. And once it was all said and done, I was so glad I hadn't backed down. And so I learned that I'm a fighter, and that quitting is never an option.

Finally, I learned that I want to encourage as many people as I can through my experience. Whether they have gone through something similar, or are currently experiencing it. Or even if they never have and never will. Everyone can learn from my story and stories like mine. The biggest thing people need when going through situations of harassment and abuse is support. Someone to listen, to believe and to care. I learned that's what we all need, and that's the kind of person I intend to be.