Dressed to Impress

I remember being at the BYU pool, at a swimming activity for kids with special needs. I watched each week as volunteers were turned away for having a two piece swimsuit. I'm not talking about a bikini. I'm not talking about a tankini. I'm talking about a two piece swimsuit that covers the same amount of surface as a tank top and booty shorts. I even watched as a special needs child was not allowed to swim because she wore a two piece swimsuit(a tank top with bikini cut bottoms)too.
"This is ridiculous!" I said
"Well it's understandable. I mean she could be swimming and her top could float up and show her stomach." Replied a co-worker.

Oh right. See I forgot. Seeing someone's stomach could condemn your soul to Hell (?)

Why am I sharing this? Did I dislike this co-worker? No she was sweet, and she saw a different view point than I did. What I felt was ridiculous she saw as no big deal. Not a problem.

Do I dislike BYU? Well. .  .let's not go there. But even if I have a certain opinion of BYU, their rules are their rules. And their rules happen to be that only one piece swimsuits are allowed in their pool, no exceptions. Rules are rules, and it's a private institution that offered it's facilities for a good cause. Their rules should be respected.

I share because the intent behind this rule was to be sure that those swimming at the pool are dressed in a tasteful, and modest, suit. But my problem with the rule is that restricting swimsuits to "one piece only" does little to help solve the actual problem they are trying to prevent.

Often times rules are made with a good intention from a lesson learned by another. But what is lost in the making of the rule is the learning of that lesson. And soon it simply becomes about following a rule, or living by a checklist, instead of seeking out the intent and truly understanding why the rule was put in place. Then comes in letter of the law, shaming, guilt, etc. We don't get taught why not to do something we're just told it's bad. Then we look for every proof as to why that behavior is bad and why it leads to unhappiness.

I was raised LDS(BYU is owned by the LDS church). I was told living this lifestyle may seem restrictive, but the restrictions kept me free from things like addiction or getting used or abused and would lead me to living a happier, fuller, life. Is this entirely false? No I don't think so. I think that some of the things taught in the church can keep you from doing some very self destructive things. But I also feel the intent behind these restrictions is becoming lost. We're taught that living a certain way (i.e. going to a bar on occasion or having coffee in the morning)ultimately leads to unhappiness. But I see a lot of people live by the rules who aren't any more, or less, happy than anyone else.

I have been LDS my entire life. I followed the rules even when I didn't want to. I was told it would make me happier in the end. But. . .it didn't. It wasn't a terrible way to live, but it hadn't brought the blessings and happiness I was promised.

So I started to experiment. I started seeking out people who lived lifestyles different from the way I was raised to live. Some were happy. Some were not. Some followed God with all their hearts. Others were seeking direction elsewhere. But their lives weren't any better, or worse than mine. And all their experiences had taught them important things about life.

Among one of my experiments was how I dressed. I was growing tired of wearing t-shirts under everything. I was tired of having to modify my clothing. And I started to wonder if dressing this way was even something I really wanted to do, or if I was simply doing it because of culture pressures. So I decided to shed Mormon modesty rules and just dress how I really wanted to. Maybe I'd go back to dressing how I always had: a t-shirt under everything. Maybe I'd find the church was right and dressing within these guidelines did lead to a happier life. Or maybe I'd simply find it didn't matter what I wore as long as I was true to myself and felt comfortable.

For those who don't know an endowed LDS member of the church is supposed to wear clothing that covers the garment. This means knee length shorts and skirts and your top must have sleeves of some sort. Your top can also not go too low in the front or too low in the back.

It has now been a year. 

A year where I just came home and put my short workout pants on because I was hot from work and they were more comfortable. 

A year since I just wore dresses how I really wanted to instead of modifying them with t-shirts and boleros. 

It's been a year since I just threw on a tank top and enjoyed the sun on my shoulders.

Yep it has been a year. And this is what I have to say: Get those effing t-shirts away from me!!!

I thought I'd go back. I thought I'd think it was no big deal. But I never wanted to go back. I never felt guilty or ashamed. I never felt like God was disappointed. I never felt like he abandoned me or I lost his protection.

I did feel truer to myself. I felt like I had made the choice and didn't just do something because I was told to. And I felt like me seeking this out actually brought me closer to God and helped me understand Him better.

The rules we were given on how we dressed were meant to keep us safe. We were told it was to keep us from giving boys the "wrong idea". We were told it  was about respecting ourselves.

The problem is that dressing within these guidelines does not automatically guarantee anything. A person dressed within these guidelines can still give guys the "wrong idea". And it doesn't necessarily keep you safe. And respect. . .respect comes from within.

The thing is is that we shouldn't do things out of fear. Fear causes us to lose our agency. We should make smart healthy decisions. And you can make smart, healthy decisions about a number of things in life. Even those things we may have been taught to avoid at all costs.

What I learned from my experiment was this:

-How I dressed didn't change how respected I was. Guys weren't  suddenly assaulting me all the time.

-I wasn't unhappier.

-I didn't feel less blessed.

-I didn't loose respect for myself.

Each of us chooses how to live. Things that work for one person don't work for all. Someone may feel something is absolutely necessary for them, another may feel they don't need that to accomplish the same things.

Alcohol does not always equal unhappiness. Drinking a glass of wine to help you relax doesn't seem much different to me than taking a sleeping pill.

Coffee does not always equal an unhealthy addiction. Energy drinks and taking caffeine pills is not a healthier option.

Wearing a tank top does not suddenly lead to being disrespect. Disrespect doesn't have to do with the length of your sleeves in my eyes.

Avoiding things that are criticized by the LDS church does not automatically free you from the harm that those things are said to bring about. 

There are a number of ways to manage life's ups and downs. What works for one may not work for another. The important thing is that the choice be an educated one. And that a person feels centered and rational when they make that choice.

There is more than one way to live a good healthy life. Just because some choose to follow some rules does not mean all those who do not follow those rules are dwindling in despair. For me the most important thing to do is to seek God daily, pray often and be true to myself. What I choose may not fit a certain checklist. But if I am comfortable with who I am, and make my choices based on what I  want, not because I am trying to Impress or fit in, I'll be much happier.

That's why I did what I did. I wanted it to be my choice. I didn't want to dress a certain way just because I was afraid what others might think. So I made my choice. It's what I felt was best for me. My choice shouldn't be seen as a threat or invalidation to another persons beliefs. Do what you feel is best, what is true to you. And my choice also shouldn't be used as a negative example. I can honestly guarantee that I am just as happy, if not happier, as ever. And that I struggle, and succeed, as much as I did before. 

And I hope everyone does what they feel is truly best for them. Whatever that may be. 

Any Dream Will Do. . .

I have to admit. I do have a dream. It's kind of embarrassing and I'll probably get made fun of for it. Ever since I was young------er, like pre-marriage/divorce, I have had a dream that one day I could sing a duet, with Donny Osmond, on stage. I know right! Pretty awesome dream! I mean it's not in any way lame, embarrassing, cliche Mormon, etc. No, it is a totally legit dream!

Make fun all you want. I do totally *heart* Donny Osmond, and I do wish I could sing a duet with him. It would be pretty awesome in my book!

I pulled up videos of Donny Osmond performing in Joseph and the. . . .(Hopefully you know how the rest of that title goes). And it brought back some fond memories. This was one of those Broadway albums that I listened to over and over again, trying my best to learn the part of The Narrator. And, yes, I would even act it out in my front room sometimes. Donny received high praise for his acting abilities in Joseph. . . .and I totally would not take any other cast recording other than the one with Mr. Osmond as the lead (P.S. if you want the one with Donny I believe its the Canadian Cast).

It was fun to watch my kids take an interest in the videos, I may have to get the DVD. But it got me thinking about my life and my dreams, and if I really even have any.

I live life day to day. I don't think that far into the future. I don't really try to plan for the future. I'm just trying to survive the here and now. It's hard for me to sacrifice now in hopes of a better future because I just want to make sure we can get by, so I do my best to make that happen.

It was interesting  to watch Joseph get sold into slavery and get sent to prison, and all the other things that happened to him before he rose up to the top. It's interesting how horrible of a situation he found himself in, but it was exactly the situation that lead to him becoming a great leader in Egypt. Strange what life does to us. Not many find themselves lower than Joseph found himself, and yet somehow he managed to rise so far above it.

I look around at my life. How little resources I feel I have. How little options I can see. I'm not a talented person. I don't have any skills or training that would make me of value in the workplace. . .or. . .well anywhere or to anyone. I don't really know what to do with my life. Sometimes I just sit back and try to see what happens, go where the wind takes me. Then sometimes I think about if I should take initiative and go back to school, but a million subjects I should study pop up and. . .I just don't know what to do.

I once dreamed about becoming an actor and performing on stage. I went to school for it. I sought out jobs in that field. I studied Broadway and musicals. I paid for voice lessons. I practiced singing and acting in my living room at night. I wanted to go to New York. I wanted to make it big! But I don't know if I ever saw that as a real reality or just a silly dream. I mean it is kind of silly, but people do do it. People who aren't shy and crippled by stage fright that is. And people who have more than just an average voice and average looks. Lets face it. I didn't stand out in theater, and I probably never would. Plus working at a certain professional theater in Utah kind of killed my theater buzz. And dreams like this don't work well when you have kids.

I mean should we have dreams? Should we have things we want to do? Is going wherever life takes you a plan in and of itself? Should I seek more direction? Should I set a goal and strive to achieve it? What do I want out of life? Hmmm. . . .Its hard to think of something when you feel like you have nothing, but Joseph had nothing too. But he also sort of went where the wind took him. . .

I don't know what the answers are. I don't know what my dreams are. I love to write, so I start blogs. I have even started some books, and one is almost complete. I think if I were to choose something. I would choose that, and I would put my focus there. But I have to admit that dream of publishing a book, that people actually like, is one of those fantasies I never cared to imagine as being real. Just a nice little dream to help put me to sleep at night.

No, I have no answers. I don't know what my dreams or goals are. I just go where the wind. . .well you know the rest. I seek God's guidance and try my best to go where he leads me. I guess my life will be just as much a mystery to me as it is to the fine folk who choose to read these posts.

Any dream will do. . .will see what dreams may come in my life.

Take 3 Inches. . .

It was January 1-- I know, I know, cliche New Years Resolution-- when I decided to take on a challenge. I have dieted before. I have lost weight before. I have managed to maintain a weight that I am happy with. But I always let things stand in my way of really taking it to the next level.

Things I'd tell myself like:

• Oh, I'm just not that type of person.
• I'm not capable of achieving anything like that.
• My body is just built a certain way

And. . .

• My body is just messed up from having babies.

But I have seen some friends embark on their own fitness challenges. And what struck me most was not the physical transformation, but the mental transformation as well.

Challenges, no matter what they are, are always going to shape us. Taking something that we have always convinced ourselves is unattainable and then attaining it does remarkable things for the mind, body and soul.

I didn't want to sell my self short any longer. I wanted to become stronger, faster and better. I wanted to feel more capable-- something very important to a single mom. So I gave myself a challenge.

Starting on January first-- so I guess technically a New Years Resolution-- I decided to exercise an hour a day, 5 days a week and watch what I eat a little bit better. Here are the results.

BEFORE

AFTER

It is crazy to look in the mirror and think, "Does that really belong to me?" I had some goals to help keep me on track-- like a GORUCK event and an overnight hike coming up. But I really don't want this to be about goals. I want it to be a lifestyle-- which is also why I didn't want to place it in the New Years Resolution category. I want to work hard to keep this up. I love how I look. But mostly. . .I LOVE HOW I FEEL!!!

I got rid of my scale after my third baby, so I don't have any numbers for you. I like it better that way though. I have had to measure my waist a couple of times, per request of friends getting me a gift, and I think I had lost 3 inches. I'm not really sure. But like I said. This is how I like to do it. I obsessed about the scale way too much. It was causing so much stress. I just like saying, "Hey these pants are feeling tight again, it's time to watch what I eat a little better," and then looking in the mirror and seeing results instead of being stressed by a number that isn't changing as fast as I want it to.

Now I'm not going to lie, sometimes I look in the mirror and don't feel any skinnier. Sometimes I see that my clothes are way baggier but just can't see how my body looks all that different. But how I feel? That's what counts. I feel stronger, I feel better. I can take my kids out and carry them on my back without tiring out quickly. I am more capable at lifting and moving things around the house. Exercises that were hard are becoming easier. It feels GREAT!!! I feel more comfortable out in public. I feel more confident. I just feel good!

I wish I could upload the video I made so that it could do the explaining for me. But blogger says it is too large-- whatever! So instead I will show you some pictures. Please try not to cry. Sometimes I want to cry, so its OK. I just wanted to try and show the issue I have with excess skin from my twins. 

These pictures are a little older, but not too much older. It was maybe a month or two ago. I wanted to share this because, even as I get myself into better shape, the shape of my body remains unique. Having this excess skin was part of what held me back. It made me think my body wasn't worth putting much more effort into it. The skin was always going to be there so whats the point. So instead of trying to hide it in shame I just started embracing it. Maybe I don't have a perfectly flat smooth tummy. Maybe I still get discouraged when clothing clings to my tummy so unattractively. But my body is unique. It has it's own unique story that tells about all the amazing things it has done. Is it hard to look in the mirror sometimes? Yes. But not because I'm ashamed. Sometimes it's just hard because I morn for my body and the sacrifice it had to make. I guess it seems kind of like a pity party, but for me it's solemn respect, a moment of silence and maybe a tear or too. I wear this badge proudly, even though it isn't necessarily beautiful to me, it's unique. 

My advice to you is to look at yourself, and see where you are putting the "I can't's" into your life. What is holding you back? You don't have to set some outlandishly crazy goal. I have four kids, I work full time and I have a house to take care of. I didn't pick some crazy exercise and diet routine I knew would wear me down. I picked something doable, something attainable, something that fit well with me. And I have seen results. So don't look at the impossible, look at how you can make what feels impossible possible. And if what you choose happens to be about getting in shape and loosing weight, well learn to love your body for all that it is, in all stages. Your body is yours, it isn't anyone else's. It won't be perfect in every area, but the improvements will still be outstanding! And how you feel on the inside will be the best part! 

I'm Feeling Quite the Novelist Today

Cincinnati, OH

We rounded a corner of the tight city streets. We had driven around the block a couple of times in search of parking place that did not put us at risk of getting a ticket, and that was hopefully within walking distance of our destination of choice. He had put a lot of thought into trying to find a place formal enough to suit my attire, but still within a decent price range. I felt a bad that my outfit had caused such a dilemma. I even offered to change. I'm quite terrible at overdressing for occasions. At least if your judgement of such is based upon the reactions I receive. I dress to my level of comfort. T-shirt and jeans don't seem to suit me all that well. The clothes people exchange at the end of the night for ones of more comfort, are usually the clothes that leave me feeling the most at ease. Sweatpants and hoodies are attire meant for working out and cleaning, and even then I feel anxious. The dress I selected for this night was one I had bought in my early twenties. Before I even got married. It was not a dress considered acceptable for a girl of my upbringing to wear. But I couldn't resist how well it flattered my curves. Not to mention that it was on sale. This was the first time I had worn it, I mean really worn it. I had put it on before with several accompanying pieces to try and make it acceptable for my hometown. But tonight I wore it as it was meant to be worn.

He turns to me and says, "You don't dress like the people here."

I can't remember how the conversation went on from there. I'm sure I asked something like, "Is that a bad thing?" And he went on to describe that the people their dressed very casually, not flashy, just normal clothes, no bright colors or fancy attire and they didn't wear flowers in their hair.

"You said you liked the flower." I replied. I think offered to take it out. But he said to leave it and confirmed that he did like it.

"I don't dress like the people from where I'm from either." I say. He seems a little surprised.

My home state tends to be more on the casual side as well. You do have quite a few artistic and eccentric people here and there that will have a taste to bring a little classic classiness into their wardrobe. But even so, my taste for the dramatic, my love of all things old fashioned and my strange desire to wear things a little more low cut and form fitting then most tends to leave me sticking out like a coffee drinker on our local college campus.

We find a parking space, exit the car and proceed to walk to the restaurant. It's strange how walking beside this man feels so comfortable and natural, and yet so unbelievable. If I wrote the story down it may make for a decent novel. As of now a novel with an ending unknown. I myself can't fully understand how all of this came about. Even though I am the one who lived it.

I still remember that Saturday morning. I was about to head somewhere, don't ask me to recall. I had just gotten all dressed up, as I do on the weekends.

My work requires more casual attire then I prefer. Wearing scarves in your hair or fancy boots is not only a waste of ones efforts, but is also a risk to your safety. On the weekends I can't wait to shed my manly looking clothes, and slip on something more feminine. I use the weekends to remind myself that I am still a young and attractive female. Those two days of the week are when I feel most in my element.

As I was saying, on this Saturday morning after I had finished getting dressed, I glanced at my Facebook to look see if anything exciting had popped up on my news feed. I scrolled and scrolled through various status updates and pictures of people displaying their weekend activities. I scrolled and scrolled and then I stopped. Something had caught my eye. There it was. His picture with an article posted on Glen Beck's page. Why I contacted him I don't really know. Thinking back to it now, how little I knew of him and how I first approached him leaves me a little red in the face. But it had to start somewhere. And without that message I would never be where I am today.

Catching an early morning plane

Denver Airport, ripe with conspiracy. . .my favorite!

I've been on trips I never thought I would dare to take. Twice, I have set foot in a state I never gave much thought to in the past. I have since fallen in love with that state. I have worn clothes I always loved but never dared to display out in public for all to see. I have tasted things I never thought would touch my lips. And I have made friends, amazing friends, who have shown me beautiful examples of kindness and love.

We take our seats in the giant booth table. I am sitting across from a man who's life differs so greatly from anything I have ever known. We grew up a thousand miles apart. Our cultures are vastly different. Trying to describe them to one another is like a fish trying to tell a bird how it breaths underwater. Neither of us can fully understand or comprehend. And yet we can talk for hours. Somehow we have things in common. Somehow he understands me better than most. It's not hard to feel comfortable around him. I find that to be so strange. Two people so different, and yet so much alike.

However, no matter how much we talk, or how comfortable I begin feel, there will always be fear. A fear of being hurt. A fear of not being accepted just as I am. It's a fear embedded in me from my past. I can't shake it. Though at times I desperately wish that I could.

The highest point of the City

Most people will never fully know the real me. I am a big, raging pot of boiling personality. Each part of me making a passionate plea to come to the surface to be released. Some people may catch glimpses of the varying sides of my personality. The vast differences that stretch out in opposite directions, just as the East does from the West. They all somehow come together to make up one singular person. To describe myself is a monologue I have never dared to write. At times you will catch little glimpses of me in varying degrees. But most of my personality lays in reserve. It only comes out in secret. In those times when I'm alone. My shyness, and fear of not being liked are to thank for that. I keep certain parts of me from ever fully coming to the surface. Which is probably for the benefit of all mankind because I am pretty intense. Bursting with joy one minute. Raging in anger the next. Some days I'm sluggish and moody. Some days I buy lingerie just because. I seem to keep people guessing. Even those that think they know all there is to know. I like to keep changing. I like to keep growing. People make a mistake of putting me in a box. Claiming that this is what I am and all I ever will be. I only see this as challenge. A challenge to completely shock them.

 My first time rock climbing. Loved it!

This little boiling pot of personality has it's disadvantages though. It's hard for me to keep friends. Perhaps because I fail to meet peoples expectations. Perhaps because I break free of the assumptions people have made and they don't care to try and figure me out from there. Or maybe it's because I tend to change so much.

A few years ago you wouldn't recognize for what I am now. I grew up a Mormon. I was raised in the LDS church in Utah. I have no regrets for how I was raised. It kept me from making choices that would have emotionally destroyed me at the time. I didn't attend wild high school parties. I never tasted a sip of alcohol. Coffee had never once been given the opportunity to wake me up in the morning. I hardly ever uttered a swear word. At times I would get more comfortable with the "shits" and the "damns" and my favorite was usually "jackass". But I would usually pull back and clean my mouth up by going back to the "craps" and the "dangs"-- I would still use jackass though because that word just says it all. I had never, ever uttered the f-word. I didn't even think it. Now I seem to use it way too f#@%ing  much. I used to be able to fit nicely among my fellow church members. I could talk the talk and walk the walk. But now I just I struggle to start conversations and walk away fumbling, tripping and stumbling.

Skyline Chili, a craving I was never supposed to have

Truth be told I was never a very good Mormon. I carry the values and the lessons I have been taught with me as I continue on my journey. I do not regret the person the church has helped me to become. But I am finding that, my whole life, I have been trying to be something that I'm not. Something that I just can't stick to. I don't have the passion to wake up for 9:00 AM church on my day off. I don't have the drive to serve in a calling when I can barely get a handle on my everyday life. I have probably missed more church then I have attended. And the more I set foot into a world I was told to fear the more I find there was nothing to fear at all. There is so much more to learn out there. It's not about living a life opposite of the one I was raised in. It's not about rebellion. I mean maybe it's a little about rebellion. I am pretty rebellious. It's not about becoming dangerous, dark and scary. No, it's about expounding on the knowledge I already have. It's about finding God in places I never thought I would. It's about throwing assumptions, all assumptions, out the window, as I fly down the highway of life, shouting, "I know nothing! Teach me Lord! Teach me!"

Cute Ohio boys! They make sure life is never dull.

I have entered a world I would have avoided before. But avoiding it was a mistake. The people here are amazing. Their kindness, unmatched. Their faith, astounding. Their love of God and Christ, beautiful. For some reason they see me as fit to be among them. Though I can never quite figure out why. I truly don't deserve to be counted as a friend among such wonderful people as these. They are far better than I will ever be. But they take me in, and I can not refuse. I would be a fool to refuse. I can't go back. I can never go back.

Showered with gifts the moment I arrived. But seriously guys. . .where's my coffee? haha!

 I couldn't even fit everything in my bags. And they made me drag those fortune cookies all the way across the United states.

Doctor Who Footie pajamas. I know. You're jealous!

 And of course I got a little cock while I was there. Everyone needs a cock. Google Combat Cock to learn more. 

Ohio has stolen my heart. I was seduced by that river and the beautiful bridges. And the people sealed the deal. Each time I leave it gets harder not to stay. Each time I come home the less I feel at home. I miss my Ohio boys. I miss a place I never thought I would ever go. I miss Ohio and I don't know how to stay away.

Roebling Bridge

 That beautiful river. I can't get enough!