Facing fears and chasing dreams

It's kind of funny how often pursing a passion means coming face to face with the things we fear the most. Whether it's the fear of rejection, failure,or heights, it seems like life's greatest pursuits lay on just the other side of great personal perils. Unfortunately, this isn't always inherently obvious.

About a month ago I found out that I was accepted into the agricultural communications graduate program at Oklahoma State University, and that I was expected to start on January 11th. Around the same time Ty was offered an amazing internship from January to April with an accounting firm in Nashville... dreams and fears. We were going to have to choose between career, education, comfort, and passions.

The first year of our relationship was long distance, and look at us now... married for almost three years, together for almost five. I know we can handle a few months apart, even if it's going to be difficult.

So here we are, pursing our dreams of a joyful marriage (facing the fears of personal or professional failure), pursing our dreams of education (dealing with hard work, student loans, making the tough decision between different institutions, and distance), and pursuing our dreams of professional success (fearing failure, living apart, long working hours during the busy tax season, moving again, and the bills that come along with caring for two separate households).

After a wonderful thanksgiving together, I left our home in Nashville so I could chase my academic and professional dreams. First stop? Stillwater, Oklahoma, over 600 miles away.

Without stopping, Google Maps estimated the trip at nine hours and 54 minutes... I made it in twelve. I thought it was going to be a lot longer when, an hour into the trip, I had to stop and take a nap. I stopped once more to get some gas, tea, and internet (in that order), and stopped a third time to get some gas and fries. Tired, fried, and having listened to about eleven hours of radio, I was glad when I finally crawled out of the car. Papi was so happy he ran for about an hour straight.

Ty's dad and his girlfriend, Kim, live(d) together in Stillwater, and were kind enough to open their home to me. I was met with a big pan of spicy cheeses spaghetti, a hug, and a comfy couch to sleep on.

In the morning, Ty's Dad left for his first day of work as the manager at a new store, and I left to find somewhere to live in the coming semester. I'd already called about six people from ads I'd found on Zillow or Craigslist, my phone was charged (for the GPS) and I had about half a tank of gas.

The first place I went and looked at was a three bedroom mobile home. It was out in the "country" on 1.25 acres, with a fenced in yard. According the property manager, all it needed was two new doors and it would be "move in ready."...  The road to the place was filled with potholes, and when we pulled up, four neighborhood dogs were quick to "welcome" Papi and me. Anyway, I'm not sure who he thought would be moving in... Maybe the Adams family. So that one was out.

I spent the rest of the day driving around Stillwater to no avail. By the time I'd had enough, Kim and I went on a walk around Boomer Lake--which is basically a big pond. It was right around sunset, and the beautiful pastel colors reflected off of the water. Papi was sufficiently worn out. When we were done walking, we went to supper at Chili's with David (unlimited enchiladas!) and then settled in for the night.

The next day, I met the professor that I'm going to be working with in the coming semester. He introduced me to the other faculty, showed me around the building, and enrolled me in my first class as a grad student. (A communications ethics course... maybe I'll talk about my opinions on ethics classes later...) Anyway, he also offered to show me around Stillwater.

So, he took me out and we drove ALL OVER TOWN. For about three hours I think. I got to see a small two-bedroom house that looked kind of promising, got the number for a spiffy three-bedroom house, and then he got ahold of some of his relation that owned a rental property in Stillwater.

It's a two-bedroom apartment in a house that's been modified to accommodate two apartments. Rent's low, and it's less than a mile away from campus... Obviously it's give and take and no place I'm going to find is going to be perfect, but let's hope it's a good, safe place to live while I'm going to school.

I left Stillwater for Manhattan, to visit my mom and brother, Tucker. Instead of taking the interstate, I took a (toll-free) highway. I wondered how anyone could ever think that Kansas isn't beautiful. It got dark on the way, and after living in Nashville, I forgot how dark it can get! It was almost smothering to have the blackness all around except for my high beams.

When I (finally) made it to Manhattan, I met Mom and Tucker and we went out to eat at a local gem: So Long Saloon. It was delicious, and, of course, we had plenty of leftovers. In the morning, Tucker went to school and Mom had a "take your (22-year-old) daughter to work" day. I saw the Best Western hotel that she manages (way to go, Mom!) and we went to a gym together because Mom did what I should do and signed up for a gym membership.

Each gym membership comes with three free meetings with a personal trainer, and they were nice enough to let me piggy back into her session. The trainer told us that the foundation of any fitness program should be "mobility and stability" and before doing any difficult exercises, a person first needs to correct any weaknesses, imbalances, or mobility issues that they have. (This is why programs like Crossfit and P90X or Insanity should only be used by people who are in GREAT shape and already have a solid foundation of mobility and stability.

The trainer told us that both of us pronate when we squat, but I learned that I have the best shoulders he's ever seen, as in structure and muscle balance.... woot woot! He designed a workout program for Mom and if she sticks with it for one year, he expects her to gain ten pounds of muscle and lose twenty pounds of fat... I'm now wishing I was still in Manhattan so I could work with him and I could change my body that way!

In honor of her gym membership and my obvious commitment to fitness, we went to IHOP for lunch. lawlz. It was delicious, though, and we both got pretty healthy meals. My bacon temptation omelet was the bomb!

We didn't have too much time together as Tucker was in school, Mom still had work stuff to do, and I was still trying to edit my book, keep in touch with my (geographically) distant husband, and edit a novel.

I left for home on Friday to throw a surprise party for my dad and sister whose birthdays were going to be on Saturday and Sunday. It wasn't anything huge or elaborate, but I had a good time and I hope they did too.

Over the next week, I went hunting, continued editing my novel, and tried to build up courage.

We all have it; that one thing that we would eat slugs to avoid. Our greatest fears. For some people, that's heights, or snakes, or tight spaces, or darkness, or even cotton balls. (No judgement.) For me, it's the fear of rejection, the fear of failure, and the fear of other people's perceptions of me.

I developed these fears sometime in high school... right around the time I started being bullied. I'm not going to say this girl spat on me, or called me names, or anything. Actually, she never did anything to my face. What she--and other people who I thought were my friends--did was exclude me. One time she invited everybody to an after school event, and told people not to invite me. I found out later that I was only invited because the foreign exchange students (people I'd known for only months as opposed to years) had stood up for me.

I wondered why people didn't like me. I wondered what I'd done wrong to deserve such treatment. I wondered what people said about me behind my back. I built up a case against myself. I wondered what she had that I didn't, because she'd gotten so many people to agree with her. I nitpicked every single thing I'd done or said and thought about what I could do differently so that wouldn't ever happen again. I thought back to all of the mean things I said or done to others, and I hated myself for it because I knew how much it hurt. I became an observer, because it's easier to avoid mistakes by avoiding risks. 

So here I am, three and a half years, post-high school, married, graduated from college, with all these amazing adventures under my belt, and still struggling with this habit of building a case against myself. I wonder why I don't have a slew of friends. I wonder why only two people from my high school attended my wedding. I wonder when I'll ever get over this.

I'm working on a project, my passion, and I can't bring myself to leave the house because I am terrified. See, for this project, I need to go out and interview ten older women. I want to ask them about their lives, their experiences, and ask for the wisdom they can pass on. I want to take these interviews and turn them into a book so other people can read about their amazing lives. So fifty years from now their grandchildren can pick up the book and say, "So that's what my grandmother was like. She was amazing."

I haven't even interviewed them yet, and I know their lives are amazing, because every life is amazing. 

But I'm sitting here in my dad's house, riddled with an overwhelming amount of anxiety. 

What if the women I ask say no?

What if they think I'm silly?

What if they think I'm being intrusive?

What if they don't like what I write about them?

What if I write the book and no one ever reads it... it would be a dishonor to their legacies.

What if I never finish the project?

This fear is exhausting. For a girl who usually never goes to sleep before midnight, I've been going to sleep at nine PM and waking up at eight. My stomach has been upset. I have dark circles under my eyes. I want to cry and sleep at the same time. I don't know what would be worse: asking them, or not asking them.

Their stories deserve to be told.

I've already met with three women, which brings my total number of interviewees to four. It always seems so scary before I'm doing it, but while I'm interviewing, I'm in love! These women are so amazing and open and honest and I fall in love with their stories. I'm hoping to get ten before I publish, but that's not really a strict goal. I would be satisfied with five or six or seven or eight or nine as well. :) We'll just have to see where this takes me.

A really special moment happened when I was interviewing one of the ladies on my 22nd birthday. A woman randomly walked into this woman's room, who was a good friend of my gram's. She was able to catch up with Gram really shortly before she went to the hospital and soon after passed away, and this woman told me that talking with Gram was one of the best times of her life over the last few years. I can't remember perfectly what she said, which has me thinking that it was probably Gram's way of telling me happy birthday. <3

My birthday was a really hard day. It's always hard to know that you're growing older and that your expectations of yourself at a certain age haven't been met. It was hard to be away from my husband. I didn't get a birthday cake and no one sang to me. It was the first year I didn't get a card from my grandma. I went to the movies in Sharon Springs by myself. What made it better was the people who took time our of their lives to mail me gifts (Thank you Grandma and Grandpa Stelting for my new outfit and scarf! It's perfect!), call or text me, and write me sweet messages on Facebook, and my husband who sent me a bunch of "open when" letters. I'm glad that I'm starting to figure out who really cares and who doesn't. The next step is surrounding myself with the people who care and focusing my energy on showing them how much of love them (a lot!).

I shot a deer the day after my birthday, which just happened to be the last day of season. We were just about ready to give up with an hour of sunlight left, but I finally got one. :) It was a clean kill--a lung shot from about eighty yards. 
He's not super huge--his rack's pretty thin--but he'll still make great jerky and summer sausage!

I got my hair done yesterday, and I have a lunch date today to talk with a woman about maybe possibly getting some grant money to work on my project. Fingers crossed!

I'll just keep praying about my life, and for my husband, and for the right skills to tell these special stories so that these women's memories can live on for many many years to come.