Author Archives: Nicole Perez

Put Me In Coach

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I’m sitting here writing, while somehow also double-fisting popcorn and Kit Kats. Don’t mind the logistics of how I’m able to type while also stuffing my face with comfort food, just stay along for the ride, okay?

Over the past year or so, popcorn has become my comfort food. Anxiety too high? Popcorn. Bored? Popcorn. A long night of repeatedly failing at the one thing you thought you were actually good at? Popcorn… and Kit Kats. Which brings us to tonight. 

Over the past year and a half, I’ve pursued my passion for acting. So far, I’ve learned the art of voice over, got my feet wet in background acting, applied for screenwriting and audiobook narration programs, and very unintentionally became that one friend in every Southern California friend group who does improv. My apologies. I never meant for that to happen.

The only reason I got into improv is because I have dreams of performing in a musical, and being on the west coast, it’s not easy to find that specific kind of training outside of attending college… again. So I came across an esteemed comedy training school that offers musical improv, which is, as they say, not improv with music, but rather musical theater improvised. It’s pretty cool.

I was required to start my musical improv journey by taking Improv 101 so I could learn the basics. Turns out, even though I’m a writer who has succeeded at character and world building on paper, I struggle with doing so on the spot. When I do improv, I just kind of freeze, get in my head, and every ounce of wit or acting skill absolutely leaves my body. It’s rough. And while I had a good experience in that class, I had a full on crash out after our class show because I knew how bad I was struggling to make it through and felt like I was the weakest player (probably because I was). 

About a month later, I had the green light to take my first musical improv class and this is where I shined the brightest. I’ve been making up weird songs since I was kid, so telling stories through various song structures was a breeze. I loved this new musical world and felt confident I had found my “thing”. The end of that class show was a completely different experience than the last one: this time I was riding high and knew this was just the start of my beautiful artistic, musical journey.

Fast forward a year later and I’m now enrolled in level two (I took a long break in between classes). Right out the gate I was on top! In fact, for the first couple of weeks, every time I’d step up to the plate I’d knock it out of the park and was excited that, even after a long hiatus, I was able to jump right back in and kick ass. 

I was off to a great start and then I remembered… the week four slump. Ouch. Over the past two improv classes (now three), week four hits and I absolutely fall apart. Don’t know how, don’t know why, but here we are.

During tonight’s class, outside of our warm-up exercises, I couldn’t rhyme to save my life. I couldn’t remember song structure, cut myself off too soon with verses, couldn’t sing a basic chorus, absolutely crashed into a wall when it came to the bridge (and this is usually my strongest part of a song), my eyes couldn’t stay focused toward the audience, and when it came to the actual improv… oh Lord… my poor scene partner was having a hard time keeping up with the poor slop I was throwing down, which then led to me just driving our song into the ground. It was turbulent. I did, however, make my goal of dropping some sick harmonies during group numbers, but I could barely enjoy that win in the midst of so much failure. I just kept making so many rookie mistakes all night long. 

As I was driving home wearing my Dodgers jersey (because they just won the World Series the night before and I was celebrating), I replayed my worst moments of the evening in my head. While mulling over my constant string of strike outs, Shohei Ohtani, Mookie Betts, and Kiké Hernandez came to mind. All three men are phenomenal athletes, and yet all three men have struck out at one point or another throughout their careers, including the World Series past and present.

If Shohei performed at peak Shohei level every game of the regular season and post season, the Dodgers would most likely never lose. But Shohei doesn’t always Shohei and the Dodgers lose. Mookie Betts, another star player, admitted to Derek Jeter during the Game 6 postgame interview that he’d been struggling all season and didn’t feel like he really helped his team very much even now in the Series. In response, Jeter reminded Mookie that he’s a great shortstop and to not discount his performance or role on the team. As it would turn out, it was Mookie’s shortstop skills that aided the final winning play of the Series. Then you have Kiké, who, in his postgame interview after the Dodgers had won the Series, equated his performance to “the guy who only brought the pencil to the group project and helped the group get an A.” The man literally slammed into a wall, struck out, and ate so much dirt trying to make plays that just didn’t pan out, but he kept playing right down to the very crazy end of a very crazy series.

As I thought about these guys, it hit me: 1.) I can be the GOAT like Ohtani and still strike out, but it doesn’t mean that I cease to be a GOAT, 2.) Even a great like Mookie deals with some insecurity and impostor syndrome when he’s been on a long streak of not being a star player, and still needs to be reminded about WHO HE IS, and 3.) Sometimes, like Kiké, it really is enough to be the guy who brings the pencil to the group project because you’re still important to helping your team succeed even if you’re the one who occasionally slams into the wall so someone else can make the catch.

So while the perfectionist in me will inevitably struggle until I’m back in the game next week and have another chance to “right the wrongs” that everyone else has forgotten about by now, I’ll do my best to “think blue” and remember that it’s okay to strike out so long as I’m still willing to step up to the plate. Besides, how else am I gonna be the GOAT if the fear of striking out keeps me from playing the game? I just gotta keep swinging.

I don’t know about you, but swinging at air and eating dirt on occasion is better than staying comfy in the dugout, not having ever tried (or stopped trying) at all. So whatever you’re considering, take the risk, get in the game, stay in the game, and don’t stop until they’re retiring your jersey on the stadium wall. You got this.

Anti-Hero

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So…. turns out it’s been four years and three months since my last post. At that time, we were one month into the pandemic, we blinked, and now we’re here. Wow.

Thinking about everything that’s happened in my life since that post, it’s no wonder many of the things I’ve written over the past few years have stayed in my drafts folder—life kicked the shit out of me and I just didn’t have it in me to finish writing anything. I won’t go into detail about what happened over the last four years (not in this post anyway), but I learned about loss, grief, pain, and anxiety—and sometimes joy and breakthrough—in new and sometimes horrifying ways.

The purpose of this resurrection post is not just to get back on the writing saddle, but to tell you about the unexpected outcome of life kicking me in the balls: I became brave.

Stating the obvious here, but bravery comes in different forms. For example, my goddaughter Kiahna has competed in weightlifting competitions and is fierce AF. Not many can do what this girl does (definitely not me) and I trust that she’d protect me in most situations. MOST, being the key word here.

One day when we were out getting tacos, a bee came for her plate and she instantly jumped up and started panicking and lightly screaming (a perfectly logical reaction). Without a second thought, I stared that bee square in its bee face and started swatting and swearing at it until it left Kiahna and her tacos alone. My little damsel in distress then said to me, “You’re so brave!” and I instantly felt like the newest member of the Avengers. So as you can see, bravery is relative. She can lift weights and probably throw them at your face, but I’ll be the one to defend you and your tacos from unwanted guests.

Anyway, the bravery badge I earned as a result of the past four years is the bravery to be my true self, in all her messy, weird, and glorious forms. I don’t feel the need to show all my cards ever, but I’m done presenting a severely edited version of myself to the world. Editing myself all these years has proven to be constricting and painful and caused me to hold myself back from living the life I was truly meant to live.

It’s pretty much that whole concept of being backed into a corner, and now you have to make the decision of whether or not you’re going to fight or cower. And after everything I’ve been through over the last four years, cowering was no longer an option so I decided to suck it up, start fighting, and only give a fuck about what God thinks of me and what I think about myself… which, as you can see, also involves a light amount of swearing from time to time and not feeling guilty about it.

I can’t blame it on any one thing as to why it’s taken me this long to just be free to be me. I mean, it’s definitely rooted in fear, I can say that much, but whether it’s been my own insecurities or the expectation of others (real or imagined) that have been placed on me, I learned that I’m much more likely to live in fullness and abundance if I just let go, take my seat at the table, and not be afraid to take my rightful place in this world.

Has this process been easy? No. Am I scared shitless? Absolutely. Will people’s opinions of me begin to change based on how I’m living my life now? Probably. Do I care? Not at all. I am and will continue to be and promote being a good human—just because I don’t care doesn’t mean that I DON’T CARE—it’s just that now I’m no longer going to allow myself or anyone else to hold me back from being my true self.

And for the record, here’s a few things that have changed (so far) as a result of this new way of living: 1.) The fear of being stagnant in my life became greater than my fear of flying, and I’ve since gone on three epic trips to the east coast,  2.) I went out with and was eventually ghosted by a cute guy, but because of the healing I’ve gone through, I was able to give him the metaphorical middle finger and move on with my life quite quickly, 3.) I walked away from a toxic work environment, with no job prospect on the horizon, because I knew that if I was going to die it wasn’t going to be because of the stress resulting from working for a vile boss, and 4.) My creativity has blossomed in new ways and I’m finally admitting to myself and the world that I want to be in the acting world and I’m actually taking the steps to get in there.

To sum it up, bravery, when done right, will eventually result in peace. Whether that’s finding peace while you’re standing at the start of something scary and new, confidence that you made the right decision in a difficult time, or simply being at peace that you’re no longer holding the parts of yourself back that are meant to be shared, being brave is worth the fight, even if your greatest opponent is yourself.

So here we go, world. I encourage you to be brave enough to be your true self and to live life to the absolute fullest. It may be nauseating and terrifying at times—trust me, it will be if you’re doing it right—but it’s a whole lotta fun.

One Fine Day

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ChampagnePicture it: Hollywood, California, December 31st, 2019. I, along with every patron at the Scum and Villainy Cantina, were singing “Bohemian Rhapsody” at the top of our lungs as we waited to ring in the new year with champagne in our hands and hope in our hearts. When the clock struck midnight, the theme from Star Wars blared loudly in the bar and the nerds shouted for joy as we all anticipated not just a glorious new year, but a bright, sparkly, new decade. Ah… we were all so young and so naive.

Since you, like everyone else in this world, have a front row seat to the madness that is the pandemic we’re living in, I don’t need to go into detail about what happened next in the lives of the joyful nerds. And I’m sure that you, very much like me, are exhausted from hearing anything related to this topic. But since we’re here, let’s get real about one unexpected side effect of this virus that has hit most, if not all of us: a loss of hope for the future.

When I was chilling in the cantina that night, I spent part of the time daydreaming about what the year might hold. I thought positively about possible career changes, relationships, moving to a new city, and felt a burst of excitement just dreaming about the possibilities. I was 110% confident that 2020 would just be different. Well, I guess I was partially right.

As news of the virus and city closures began to spread, I realized more and more how much life and everyday human experiences were being robbed from us all. People postponed, canceled, or severely scaled down weddings, proms, and graduation ceremonies, birthdays were left uncelebrated, celebrated virtually, or never lived to see, people lost jobs, closed businesses, and the tight spot some were already in – financially, relationally, and emotionally – before this all began got even tighter. As you know, that’s just a small sample of what’s been lost.

I fall somewhere in that last category: the people who were already in a tight spot and life just got tighter. My hopes for career and relationship changes came to a screeching halt (hard to get a job when no one’s hiring and not easy to date or meet people when you’re under stay-at-home orders), plans to move were put even further out of reach, and the new social circles and projects I started to engage in were all put on pause until we could figure out how to adjust to this new normal. I was already living on low supply of hope for my future and now, with all this pandemic business, I was running on fumes.

I know that this loss of hope and how we’re living through this time in history looks different for all of us. My losses and disappointments aren’t as severe as what others are dealing with, and yet, are also greater than others. But the common thread is that we’re all, in one way or another, dealing with some form of grief: the grief of what is, what was, and what could have been. This type of grief hit many of us in our lives long before covid even came to be – so the fortunate thing about that is because we’ve already been infected, there are tools to help us combat the infection.

First step, limit your intake of the news or conversation about what’s happening in your internal and external worlds. I’m not telling you to stop communicating about what’s going on in your life or the world or large, I’m just saying to slow your roll a bit. Think of it this way: even your favorite snack becomes too much when it’s served in large quantities at every meal and you’re forced to eat every bite. I mean, even taco Tuesday could lose its glory if every day is taco day and you can’t even pair it with chips and salsa – it gets to be too much. The point is that it’s good to be informed and have conversation about real-life topics, but there is such a thing as oversaturation and it will tear away at your mental health and capacity for hope.

Second step, focus on the present moment. That can range anywhere from stopping to remind yourself to breathe to focusing on not burning the 150th loaf of bread you’re baking to hard core jamming out to a favorite song. Basically, just do your best to focus on any shred of normalcy in your day that you possibly can. As difficult as it may be (speaking from experience here), if you focus too much on the past or look too far ahead into the future, you will (not might, will) lose your mind. Stay present.

Lastly, the third and equally important step is to find the good in your world (it’s out there). Not gonna lie, some of my joys that have resulted from this weird time in history have been my mostly clear social calendar and not having to drive all over God’s green earth to get from point A to point B most days of the week. And I know this is a controversial opinion, but I LOVE the marked out spaces in the store aisles because now people aren’t getting all up in my business when I’m just trying to buy some essential items – I really don’t want this to go away and I’ll miss it when it inevitably will.

This is not the end of the story – this is just a super horrible, dramatic, nauseating plot twist in an adventurous tale where you, the conquering hero, will win. So do everything you can to push through and maintain hope because the days of champagne, sing-a-longs, and abundant toilet paper for all will return and you’ll come out of this better and stronger than before. Hang in there, buttercup. You got this!

Zombie

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SOTDIf you haven’t spent at least one precious hour and a half of your life watching the great cinematic masterpiece that is Shaun of the Dead, please, at some point during your lifetime, watch this movie. To give you a recap (this does matter to the rest of this post, I promise), our hero, Shaun, is just trudging through his monotonous life when a virus takes over the world and starts turning people into zombies. One day he’s just going about his business and the next he finds himself in the middle of global chaos just trying to make sense of it all.

Sound familiar? I bet it does.

Well, friends, here we are living in the middle of the pages of a future history book. Our world came to a screeching halt – and, much like Shaun, we’re trying to wrap our minds around what’s happening and cling to any bit of normalcy and human connection we can (from a safe, six-foot distance, of course).

At least, unlike Shaun, we don’t have to worry about zombies, right? Uh… right? Well, actually, we do. Due to the horrific nature of this widespread virus, there are other side effects that are spreading globally that can be caught by those who may never contract the actual disease. Side effects include but are not limited to: fear, anxiety, stress, hopelessness, depression, etc. In essence, the very things that may cause one to just shut down and go into full zombie mode… without all the biting… hopefully.

Fortunately, since I am a consumer of zombie films and television and have watched Shaun of the Dead a hundred times over, I can make a few expert recommendations on how to navigate through this zombie land and flatten the curve of these side effects. Here we go…

Stay On Guard

Your first line of defense is to just be aware that the zombies are real and can appear out of nowhere. For example, one minute you’re sitting there enjoying a quarantine perk (i.e., finally watching everything that’s been saved on your dvr for the past two years, etc.) and all of a sudden, for whatever reason, you’re hit with a tidal wave of anxiety and you’ve lost the ability to relax and breathe (it happens, I’ve been there).

So the best way to stay on guard is to: 1.) Acknowledge that you’re not immune to the zombies, 2.) Be aware of your emotions and how you’re processing through them and, 3.) Be mindful that even though you may not be “bitten” or scared of the predators doesn’t mean that those around you haven’t been affected and may need some backup. It all starts with awareness of yourself and others.

Prep Your Arsenal

Now that you’re aware that the threat is real, you need to choose your weapons. Even though some attacks are unexpected and you have to grab whatever’s available to you at the time, you’re much better off if you’re already packing.

I think everyone’s weapons will look a bit different, but it comes down to choosing the (healthy) things that will help you combat the zombies. Weapons can look like: having a trusted, fantastic human being you can connect with daily, stepping outside for fresh air, drinking some tea or hot cocoa at the end of your day, chilling out and playing a video game, or just pretty much anything that can be associated with happiness, rest, and playtime.

Like I said, our weapons will look different and will need to be changed up depending on the size and amount of zombies – some days tacos are enough for me while other days require tacos, tears, tequila, and tissues – but so long as you have your weapons of choice at the ready, you’ll be prepared to fend off whatever comes your way.

Build Your Army

You can’t survive zombie land on your own – you need your homies. Yep. It’s as simple as that. You need people and people need you. We’re all trying to figure out how to make it through all of this and a great way for us all to fend off the zombies is to stay connected, be kind, offer support, and also be brave enough to ask for help and connection as needed. Speak up. You’re not alone.

Remind Them (And Yourself) Who’s Boss

One thing remains true in every zombie story: the people who usually get eaten first are the ones who convince themselves they can’t win – they give up before the fight even starts. Next thing you know, they’re zombie food. However, renowned heroes of the zombie worlds (i.e., Shaun, Michonne, Tallahassee, etc.) go into the fight with a healthy dose of confidence that they’re going to win. So it comes down to choice: you’re either going to let the zombies consume you without even trying to fight or you’re going to go in, guns blazing, and remind them who’s boss.

Rise And Shine

This is your moment to decide if you’re going to rise or if you’re going to crumble. At the beginning of the movie, Shaun was barely motivated to go to the convenience store much less fight off a zombie. But as the pressure increased and the fight got harder, Shaun kicked into gear, led an army of warriors, and didn’t let the zombies overtake him. It’s not to say he was never overwhelmed or scared – he was – but he made a choice to fight and rise to the occasion regardless of how his odds for survival may have appeared.

This is a scary, stressful, uncertain time we’re all living in and it’s difficult to push through. I get it – the zombies are everywhere. However, you can and you will defeat the zombies. And when it’s all over, we’ll meet up at the Winchester for a nice, cold pint.

(NOTE: Seriously, you gotta watch that movie because it makes my closing line that much more spectacular.)

If I Could Turn Back Time

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The-Prince-of-Egypt-1998Full disclosure, this post is not about Cher nor is it an exegesis of the timeless classic that inspired the name of this post. Just wanted to disappoint you now before you continued to travel along with me on this Cher-less journey.

Speaking of disappointment, let’s get down to it and talk about the past…

February is a tough month for me. Actually, February is tough for a lot of people mostly because of the poop parade that is Valentine’s Day (I’m clearly not a fan of that fabricated holiday), but that’s just more fuel on my wildfire. The reason this month is tough is because it reminds me of some especially good moments in my life, the brief window where everything felt right and my heart and mind was still firmly intact. For me, processing through painful moments is much easier than reflecting on the good stuff because the good stuff was pretty good… or at least I thought it was.

As it turns out, the good times I’m alluding to and don’t feel much like going into detail about weren’t all that great. Retrospect and gaining information that was not afforded to me at the time, showed me that I was living in the matrix and what I thought was good and real and true was all a facade. Still, despite the knowledge I now possess and the amount of time that has passed, when this time of year rolls around (and, let’s be honest, many times before and after), I still think about and long to be back in that time and space, safely tucked inside my happy ball of disillusionment.

But here’s the thing: I am not the first nor will I be the last to struggle with longing for what’s behind me even if what is gone was not actually good. If you’ve ever watched or heard of the AMAZING animated feature The Prince of Egypt (the book is better), it’s the true story (with some artistic license) about Moses leading the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt and toward the promised land – it’s pretty epic.

Anyway, if the movie had a sequel, it would most likely be about their excruciatingly long journey to the promised land. Even though the best was ahead of them, the people struggled to keep their focus forward and often voiced their longing to go back to Egypt where things like food and water were in guaranteed supply. Although free from a life of slavery, the uncertainties and hardships of the desert journey skewed their retrospect and made them long for a more painful and oppressive life that was, to them, more comfortable and secure.

I used to scoff at the dumbness of the Israelites who longed for slavery over freedom until I found myself in a similar situation. I’ve spent far too many days longing for the (false) good times and wishing I were given the opportunity to relive and rewrite history. I’ve found myself thinking, “Well, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all” or “I really miss this person” or worse, “I messed everything up. It was my fault that things turned out the way they did.” I was so broken, tired, and insecure about the future that I lost sight of the muck I was really freed from and how so much greater is ahead of me.

I’m not saying good memories are actually bad or that you can’t look back on your past with fondness – Lord knows how many truly good times and people I miss that I wish I could go back to. But when whatever desert you’re roaming through becomes especially treacherous and difficult to navigate, it’s tempting to rewrite or romanticize the things that were, in all reality, a source of oppression rather than freedom.

So what do we do? How do we leave Egypt in Egypt and press on to a life of freedom, hope, and healing even though the path to our promised lands is filled with uncertainty? To be perfectly honest, I don’t fully know the answer to those questions. We’re all on different journeys and require different methods. What’s worked for me, however, is time, community, forward focus, and gratitude.

First, time. The further you get away from Egypt, the better you can see your promised land and gain true perspective on the oppression you were living in. It doesn’t always make the journey through the desert any easier, but it helps. Second, community. You’re not in this alone. I’ll write more about this later, but I can’t stress enough how valuable my community has been in my healing process over the past few years. Whether your community comes in the form of friends, family, pastors, or counselors, just know that the best way to stay out of Egypt is to surround yourself with those who cheer you on to keep moving ahead and remind you of the truth of your past and your future. Third, forward focus. You can’t successfully move forward if you’re always looking behind you. Find ways to keep you focused on your promised land. Whether that’s creating vision boards, starting projects that will help you make progress toward your goals and/or new self, or whatever that looks like for you, just take action to keep your eyes focused ahead on the life of freedom, healing, and wholeness that you deserve. Lastly, practice gratitude. Thank God for what you were freed from, thank Him for what lies ahead, thank Him for the struggles (past and present) that have shaped who you are and who you will become, and thank Him for the “what could have beens” that He no doubtedly saved you from. It really makes a difference to be intentionally thankful and speak out your gratitude that Egypt is behind you and the promised land is yet to come (or has arrived!).

And while I’m not leaving this month without having acquired a few bumps and bruises along the way, I am closing it out feeling even more freer from my Egypt than I’ve ever been before and with a deep confidence that a redemption greater than I can hope for or imagine is on its way. And the same is possible for you. Keep on keeping on, weary travelers. Egypt’s got nothing on your promised land.

Slip Slidin’ Away

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WalkenHi. It’s me again. It’s been a long while since I was last on here blogging my thoughts and feelings about the world. Truth is, the reason for my absence is that I’ve been too busy spinning my wheels and letting life get the best of me. It’s been a rough few weeks… months… years. But alas, it’s a new day… nay, a new decade, which means it’s time to get back on this horse and gallop off into the great unknown. So here we go.

As I was alluding to in the previous paragraph, life has been kicking my butt. For the past few years, I’ve been in this weird cycle of life just knocking the tar out of me, I bleed out for a minute (or ten), I wipe off the blood and sweat, and then I come back swinging – it’s exhausting.

While drudging through the muck of this harrowing saga, I often think about random moments in pop culture to help me cope. In this instance, my mind looked toward Christopher Walken for inspiration. Yes, THAT Christopher Walken.

In Steven Spielberg’s 2002 film Catch Me If You Can, Mr. Walken plays Frank Abagnale, Sr. (a.k.a., Leonardo DiCaprio’s dad). There’s this scene where he and Leo are out at a fancy dinner where he’s about to hand Leo some solid life advice by way of a parable. Now get ready and mentally tap into Christopher Walken’s voice as I regale you with this same tale.

The story goes that two mice are trapped at the bottom of a bucket of cream. One mouse starts kicking up the cream and fights to get out of the bucket while the other one doesn’t even attempt to move. Mouse #1 fights so hard that eventually all of his kicking leads to a solid butter staircase and he survives. Meanwhile, mouse #2, because he didn’t even try to move, just drowned in the cream and met a sad, milky fate. After telling this story, Frank Sr. looks Frank Jr. square in the eye and says, “So which mouse do you want to be?”

Frank Jr., just as any of us sitting on the listening end of that story might’ve answered, chose the first mouse. You kick and you fight to survive until you eventually get out of that bucket. But let’s get real here for a second: sometimes the butter churns too slowly or we take five steps up that slippery buttery slope only to end up sliding back at least ten. It’s exhausting! (Yes, I did say that just a few paragraphs ago).

So what do we do? How do we cope when it feels like an ocean of cream is consuming us and the easier option is just to drown in it? (I know that kind of sounds delicious, but hang with me here).

Well, here’s what we can do: we slide, float on our backs for a little while, get up, and start kicking again. As I’ve endured this over-extensive series of unfortunate events over the past few years, I’ve learned that the best way to survive until you break through to the top of the bucket is to: 1.) Acknowledge the hardship, pain, and/or disappointment of your situation (a.k.a., sliding), 2.) Give yourself a break. It’s necessary to put yourself in time out and do some self-care in the middle of your battle (a.k.a., floating), and 3.) Get up and start kicking butt-er.

All three are necessary components of making it out of the bucket. First off, it’s absolutely vital to acknowledge whatever you’re dealing with – life just really sucks sometimes and can truly take the wind out of our sails. Next, you HAVE to give yourself time to breathe. I’m not talking about self-medicating through destructive behaviors; what I am talking about is doing some proper self-care and TREATING YO’ SELF. Be kind to yourself and do what you need to do to find comfort and process through it all. Lastly, you HAVE to get up and fight again. Steps one and two without step three will just lead you to being the second mouse who doesn’t make it out alive, as will attempting step three without doing the first two steps. The fight is exhausting (there’s my favorite “e” word again!) and you’ll burn out faster if you bypass steps one and two. So keep kicking and get out of that bucket!

I’m honestly not sure how much longer I need to kick to get out of this particular bucket – it’s a pretty big one – and I think that moving through life requires us to paddle through buckets of varying sizes. However, as deep and harrowing as this bucket has been, I’m truly grateful for the lessons learned through the churning and I’m hoping my next inevitable bucket will only be the size of a cowbell (*wink wink* – points to anyone who gets that reference). So keep sliding, floating, and kicking. The bucket may be overwhelming, but you, my friend, are an overcomer. You got this, you sweet butter churner.

Bridge Over Troubled Water

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breakHi there, faithful readers. This is just a quick note to let you know that while it may appear as though I haven’t written since 2015, the truth is that there were at least one or two blogs over the past few years that I have since deleted. They needed to be unpublished due to the fact that they were too closely tied to a very painful time in my life that didn’t need to be revisited every time I opened my beloved blog. So I’m cleaning house and making a fresh start. I’m ready to write and breathe again – and it’s been a long time coming. So I thank you for your love, grace, and patience and I promise a new blog is coming soon (and hopefully many following more frequently). Stay tuned!

Hard to Handle

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03e1f1174e8513396448454494042ff2I have a reputation for being clumsy.  On multiple occasions I have been referred to as a “bull in a china shop”, my public tumbles are epic (one of which was caught on a gas station camera prior to the days of YouTube, thank God), and I accumulate bruises faster than a group of nerds snatch up passes to Comic Con (I’m only being mean because I’m a jealous nerd who has not yet attained such glory).

Anyway, given my history of falling down and bumping into things, I get super nervous around newborns.  Some parents feel the need to hand over their squirmy bundles of joy to me so I can experience the awesomeness of a tiny earthling in my arms, but it makes me tense up given that I tend to accidentally drop, break, and/or knock objects into walls.  And when the tiny bundles cry, forget it.  I feel as though I personally offended the little human just by existing and not being their primary care giver.  It’s intense.

But sometimes this isn’t the case.  Sometimes, usually depending on my comfort level with the parent(s) and/or age of the baby, I look upon the little humanoid, take it in my arms, and hold onto it tighter than I would a last rib at a barbecue.  Something clicks inside my stone cold heart and I feel a rush of confidence as I realize not only do I love the little creature, I will do anything to protect it (especially from my clumsy self).

The only other thing I can liken my feelings toward babies to are my feelings toward the idea of hope.  Hope, like tiny humans, is simultaneously fragile and buoyant (don’t worry, I haven’t tested the buoyancy of babies on purpose or accidentally).  It can be easily broken when tampered with, but can also withstand more than we think especially when we take action to nurture it and do everything we can to help it grow stronger.

Recently I’ve learned (yes, only recently) that the best way to nurture hope is to expect the best and speak positively over your goals, circumstances, and/or what appear to be desperate situations where hope does not seem to exist.

I say I only recently learned this concept because I’ve hit expert level when it comes to talking myself out of hoping for the best outcomes in many areas of my life.  It got too difficult to talk about the “one days”.  I felt pain and doubt any time I’d even utter things like, “One day I’ll get married”, “One day at my baby shower”, “One day when I have a steady income”…. and the list of my “one days” goes on and on.

In order to deal with the pain, I trained myself to think of what the kids on Tumblr call an “AU” (alternate universe) and resolved myself to be content with living a life that doesn’t hold a shred of the dreams I once had for myself.  Pretty bleak, but doable.  Oddly enough, my resolve to live in the “AU” still didn’t help my broken heart.  In fact, I think it made it worse.  Shocker.

But just like the proud parents of a squirmy newborn who want me to be the temporary keeper of their most treasured possession, God is also “forcing” me to cradle His dreams for my life even though I’m scared, uncomfortable, and am filled with doubt that they will survive while in my care.  And He does this not only because He loves and trusts me to carry out His will, but He created me and knows I’ll do exactly what I do when I hold an actual baby: I’ll eventually relax, speak love and hope over its future, and be in wonder of God’s miraculous design for every life.

I know it’s not easy (believe me, I KNOW), but start speaking life into your goals or circumstances, whatever they may be.  Believe for the new job, baby, spouse, healing, home, strength, etc.  Start acting like the sickness is gone, the race is won, and your ideal life is already set in motion.  In other words, be the YOU you want to see in the world: fierce, healthy, strong, and full of hope.  And if you’re hoping for a baby, I can hardly wait to admire and love it… from a safe distance, of course.

Loser

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tumblr_m80fcnFNJN1r8swqdo1_1280_zps45287f88Asking me to pick my favorite song or style of music is like asking someone to pick their favorite flavor of ice cream: it’s a near-impossible task.  For the record, peanut butter & chocolate ice cream from Baskin Robbins is my #1 choice.

And if music genres were ice cream flavors, I’d say that classic rock is definitely rocky road.  It’s timeless, gritty, definitely has its softer moments, and has the ability to make one instantly recall the sweetest memories.

One of my all-time favorite classic rock ballads is “Dream On” by Aerosmith.  Joe Perry’s vocals are on point, the message to persevere until your dream comes true is awesome (not to mention kind of unexpected in a song from this band), and every note just hits your soul.  Okay, maybe it only hits me THIS deeply, but whatever.  I have awesome taste in music.  It’s a cross I have to bear.

What I love most about this song has very little to do with all the awesome attributes I listed above.  In fact, my love for this song boils down to one lyric: “You’ve gotta lose to know how to win.”

Although my Instagram account might show otherwise, I’ve gotten pretty good at the art of losing.  I’m pretty much the Andy Warhol of “losing”: my fails are colorful, often repeated, and on display for all the world to see.

Like anyone else, I’ve had my highs and lows; however, it was over the past several months that I went through one of the most trying times of my life…. which is saying a lot considering some of the weirdness I’ve survived in my lifetime.

Right now it’s still too soon to disclose the details of my struggle – maybe I never will – but what I can tell you is that I became the worst version of myself.  I was stressed out, irritable, easily angered, and the words that came out of my mouth would make a Soprano blush (or whatever foul-mouthed pop culture reference kids use these days).  It was ugly.  I’m also pretty sure I cried more in that one period of time than I have over the span of my entire life – and that irritated me most of all because it’s fun pretending I don’t have a soul or what the common folk refer to as “emotions” :).

I couldn’t see any glimmer of hope and spent a great deal of time wondering how I let myself get to this place.  I’m talking, I questioned every choice I’ve made since I was child.  I’m really fascinated by that whole “butterfly effect” idea.

Anyway, I was down for the count.  Beat to the ground.  This bug had met her end in the windshield of life.

Then one day I decided to make a choice.  I chose to fill myself with joy and keep my focus pointed toward God.  Slowly but surely my attitude improved, my outlook brightened, and my colorful vocabulary was more… “Captain America friendly” (Nerd joke alert).

And it’s a good thing I made this choice when I did because things only got tougher from that point on.  I fought harder and harder to remain true to myself even when I was exhausted and physically and mentally ill from the stress I was enduring.  Every day I felt like a soldier fighting the toughest battle of her life day in and day out, getting the snot beat out of her, and then coming back for more the next day.  It was a painful experience.

Finally, it all came to an end.  I no longer had to fight that battle and, by the skin of my teeth, God brought me into the winner’s circle.

What I didn’t expect was the post-battle “clean up”.  I’ve had to actively work on regaining confidence, motivation, and the strength needed just to participate in daily life.  In fact, it was only this past weekend that I realized I was back to feeling “normal” again.

As difficult as that struggle was and as low as I sank, I’m thankful that it happened because of how it shaped me.  It was a great lesson in discovering what I really want out of life and who God created me to be.  Above all, I learned I have the strength to push through difficult circumstances, was once again reminded that I do have an amazing family and circle of friends who will stick around and love me through the darkness, and grew closer to my God who is ever-loving and compassionate and big enough to handle any hardship life throws at me.

I’m proud to be the biggest loser because now I truly know how to win.

Every Day Is A Winding Road

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Dean driving.jpgIt’s been a long time since I’ve posted on this blog because I’ve been living on the streets.  Not homeless, just spending a great deal of time either commuting or running…. er, slow jogging.

When you’re on the road – be it on foot or wheels – you usually have a good amount of time to THINK and then think some more.  My thoughts range anywhere from, “It’s 7am and I really want a taco” to “Why do they want Thor to be a woman? Let Thor be manly Thor and come up with an original female superhero!” to “This is it.  This is my life.  I am a child of the road now.  This is how I die.”  And I’m not saying these things just to be funny.  These are actual things I’ve thought about either while I’m commuting or running…. oh yeah, slow jogging.

And while there are several lessons to be learned from life on the road, the biggest lesson I’ve learned is about comparing your life to others.  Let me break this down for you.

Any seasoned commuter knows the frustration of trying to find the “perfect lane”.  The perfect lane moves at a consistent pace (even if that pace is 10 mph), people aren’t cutting in front of you and then back out again, there aren’t any “brake happy” skittish drivers who tend to brake fast and/or last-minute, and you’re either keeping in step or passing up drivers in the other lanes.  THAT is what a perfect lane looks like.  You know it when you’re in it.

On the flip side of things, you also know when you’ve chosen wrong.  People are passing you up, they “bully” you from behind as if you can make the traffic go any faster, and no matter how hard you try you can’t merge into the next lane because it’s either too crowded or you can’t get enough speed to move over so that you don’t get creamed.  THAT is what the wrong lane looks like.  Again, you know it when you’re in it.

Unfortunately, I’ve spent more time in the wrong lanes than I’d like to admit.  Sometimes you just kind of end up in a bad lane – other times, you willfully make the switch thinking it’s a good idea and then you get stuck and regret every single life choice you’ve made up until that point.  Or at least I do.  I tend to be a bit dramatic.  Whatever.  Shut up.

So what do you do?  How do you end up in the perfect lane?  Two words: Move Forward.

Not so surprisingly, these are the words I often yell at other drivers (who can’t hear me).  It’s either “Move forward!”, “The gas is the RIGHT pedal!”, or “Please just move.  Do something.”

Outside of the car, these are words I usually yell at myself ESPECIALLY when I’m looking at the progress others are making in their lives.  “Nicole, move forward! Do SOMETHING!”, I say with every ounce of frustration I can muster.  And I get weary and sad from spending so much time being hard on myself because I just can’t seem to reach the destination that others have made it to in less time and on a seemingly easier route.

But here’s the thing: just like driving a car, you can’t successfully move forward if you’re too busy looking around you and comparing your route and/or driving abilities to others.  You might have your foot on the gas, but you’ll either crash or go slower if your focus is anywhere but the lane you’re traveling on.

Yes, the drive (a.k.a. life) can feel long and frustrating.  Sometimes you’ll catch a break and ride the perfect lane for a while.  But the trick is to look forward, enjoy the ride, and be thankful for every bump, bend, and smooth travels.

Oh, and don’t forget to pack car snacks 🙂