On Owning It. Or The Fart Backstage.

We were in the wings of the middle school auditorium.  I’m fairly certain this was during a rehearsal and not an actual show because I don’t remember wearing costumes.  I do remember who I was with back there.  Two of the popular middle school girls.  In middle school I was cool girl adjacent, on the peripheral of the group not an included member.  Of course now, looking back, I realize that my refusal to just make actual, real, non-cool girl friends rather than hang on to a group of people who didn’t really like me says a lot more about me than them.  But it was middle school and I just desperately wanted to be accepted by the accepted.

So I hung on.

Around that time these two popular girls had started the trend of “owning their farts.”  It was genius, really.  These two girls knew how to take the most embarrassing of situations (a fart in middle school) and turn it into an opportunity to be awesome.  If one of them made the social faux pas of all faux pas, they would shrug and say, “I farted” with a who cares, I did this thing and I’m too cool to be embarrassed by it attitude.  Or they would say it loudly and proudly, laughing as though their gas was the funniest thing ever.  And that made them cooler.  If you were secure enough to own your fart, no one could get to you.   I was obsessed with this who gives a crap mentality.  Because I so couldn’t do it.  If I farted in school I’d keep my mouth shut and hope everyone pinned it on the smelly kid.

Any way I’m backstage with the Heathers and I fart.  And in a single moment I decide go with their tactic.  I think I thought if I tried on this attitude, like one of the school play costumes, I would become more like them, which is to say cooler and less insecure.  Whatever the reason, I found myself saying, “I farted.  That one was me.”

The girls burst out laughing and I knew I’d done it wrong.  I didn’t say it with the same “I’m so secure about this” tone.  Something about it was cute, like when a little kid repeats words she’s only heard the grown ups say.  And I was still mortified.  I went through the act of owning my fart without really owning it. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about this “owning your fart” mentality.  One of the truest lessons I’ve learned in the last decade is that the act of speaking your shame aloud always diminishes its power.  I’ve found freedom in this truth with some of my deepest shames. 

But today I’m thinking of some smaller shames.  You know the truths about yourself that aren’t a big deal, but you still hope you’ll outgrow before anyone figures them out.  The things about yourself that you fear make you shallow, or silly or dumb.  The farts backstage.  These are the things that make me human in the easiest possible way and also the things I don’t really want anyone to realize.

Today though, I’m owning it.  I’m realizing the freedom and joy that’s found in living fully into who you are, quirks and embarrassments and all.  I’m tired of waiting to outgrow something, or change into the person I think I would be better off being.  I'm tired of the shame and panic that rises in me when someone starts to tease me about one of these things.  And so today, I’m confessing loud and proud a few of these smaller shames.  Imagine I’m saying it with the “who cares, this is me, and I’m too cool to be embarrassed” tone that I failed so miserably with twenty years ago.

My name is Colleen and I love celebrities.  I have always been easily star-struck.  I love People magazine, E! News, and I can tell you about every time I’ve been in proximity of someone of note.  I’m desperate to know what famous people are really like, and if I find out you know some one of some reputable fame I will grill you for hours.  I sat next to a very chatty someone who worked for the producers of Lost during what became my most favorite flight.  This girl was not afraid to spill insider secrets and for the entire trip from New York to Phoenix I got all the dirt.  What’s even worse is that my litmus test for celebrity is incredibly easy to pass.  Basically if people know about you, you are famous in my eyes.  My friend Marty once won a trip to Mexico by calling into a morning radio talk show that I love.  He charmed his way into the hearts of the hosts and was featured on the show’s broadcast from Mexico.  And now Marty has achieved celebrity status.  Because one time he was on the radio.  I’m ashamed of this quality because I fear it reveals some sort of shallow, celebrity worshiping quality in me.  Or that people will deduct my own desires for fame.  And also it taps into one of my worst qualities, gossipy-ness  (definitely a real word).  So I try, without success, to down play this quality, but today I’m claiming it.  I get star-struck about celebrities (shoulder shrug).

This second confession kind of goes along with the first, but I like pop culture way more than high-minded things.  I’d rather listen to the Entertainment Weekly radio station than NPR in the car and I’d rather read People Magazine than Time at the dentist.  I’ve got loads of really great documentaries in my Netflix queue, but all I watch is Friends and Gilmore Girls reruns.  And I’ve never read the New Yorker.  In my defense I do listen to NPR, read Time and watch documentaries, but when given the choice I will always choose the pop culture route first.  Again, I fear this makes me so, so shallow and less intelligent in the eyes of others.  But I can’t deny it.   I want to be a person that knows all about the conflict in Syria but has no clue about the conflict amongst the cast of a Shonda Rhimes show.  But I'm not.

Also, I talk to myself in my car when I’m alone.  Sometimes I play out conversations that I need to have, but am afraid of.  Or I have imaginary conversations pertaining to all sorts of imaginary things I hope to one day accomplish but probably never will. (I’m fairly certain my days starring in an academy award-winning movie are behind me.)  I’m a daydreamer and always have been.  It’s silly and weird and something I probably should have stopped doing when I was nine, but there you go. 

FIESTA! Also, don't try to discern a patters.  There isn't one.  I'm going to get ALL the colors.

Finally, I love color way more than classic neutral tones.  This isn’t one I’ve necessarily tried to hide, but I’ve always sort of hoped eventually I’d get my act together and become someone with classic whites and neutral shades all through her home.  For years I’ve coveted Fiestaware, the most colorful of all dinnerware, but never committed to buying it because I was always worried people would think it was childish.  But you know what?  My mom got me some settings for my birthday this year, and then I used the birthday money from my mother-in-law to buy more settings and now I have nine settings in nine different colors and I can’t even tell you how happy it makes me to open my cabinets.  It’s silly really that a rainbow of dishes could bring so much joy.  But I love it.    

Ok, so now I’m a little mortified at these metaphorical farts that I’ve just owned.  But next time I start gushing over some blogger that isn’t really a celebrity I’m not going to feel ashamed.  I’m just going to own it.  And really this is just the tip of the iceberg.   There is so much more I could have said, and probably one day will- if only to give you all the freedom to claim your own farts and feel no more shame.   Maybe we’ll host an “Owning It Friday” around here.   What about you?  Anything you’d like to not feel ashamed of anymore?

(For the record, when it comes to actual farts I absolutely do not own those.  I will throw my kids, husband or complete strangers under the bus if I happen to fart in public.  No way am I ‘fessing up to that if I can help it.)

Thirty-Two Things...

Oh hey there.  Remember when I was awesome in the beginning of 2015 and writing all the time?  Well February happened.  February is pretty much my least favorite month.  It's still cold and dreary and I've been over winter for about two months already at that point.  And this February was lost to sick kids and sick grown ups and I don't know what else.  All I can say is that if you look at my planner for the month of February there are a whole lot of things that were supposed to happen, but never did.  Cleaning my house was at the top of that list.  Anyway, let's just pretend February never happened and I didn't take a six-week blogging break.  Cool?  Thanks.

I had a birthday earlier this week.  This is the first birthday I’ve encountered where I’m actually starting to feel old.  I’ve joked about feeling old around past birthdays and pretended to hate the annual passing of time birthdays mark.  But this year.  This year I’m feeling it.  I Google things like “skin care regimens” and pay attention to all those before and after pictures people post on Facebook because I’m starting to look…older.  And this was the year I started forgetting my age.  I could not for the life of me remember if I was turning 32 or 33.  (For the record it was 32.) (Also for the record, until this year I could never understand how people could forget their age.  How was that possible?  32 years and 3 kids later I get it.)

This year also marked a significant shift in the age of people doing the things that I aspire to do.  There are a few secret, deep down aspirations I hold in my heart.  In the past I’ve watched other women set down paths similar to the one I’ve longed for.  And in the past those women have always been older.  I’ve always had a few years left to start achieving those dreams.  Until now.  I’m more and more aware of women younger than me starting down the paths I’ve dreamed of taking.  It’s making me feel panicked.  Like there isn’t any more room at the tables I hope to occupy and I’m getting to old for those tables anyway.  Anxiety sets in and I begin to believe that I’ve run out of time, I’ll never accomplish anything and my life has been small and uneventful and when I’m 85 I will lament all the things I didn’t do.

So today, in an effort to remind myself that I have, in fact, lived 32 good years thus far I’ve compiled a list of 32 things I DID do before I turned 32.  Kind of the anti- x, y, or z things to do before you turn x, y or z age.  I want to be someone who celebrates what I’ve done.  Who sees the glass, and life, as half-full.  So in an effort to be kinder to myself I’m focusing on this list.  I’d love to hear your own list.  Maybe it’s not 32 things, but what have YOU done in your years thus far that makes you proud?

 Thirty-Two things I did before I turned Thirty-Two:

      1.)  Backpacked through Europe

      2.)  Lived in the one place I always said I wanted to live

      3.)  Got my masters

      4.)  Taught high school English to a challenging group of kids, and loved it (and them)

      5.)  Stayed out all night dancing in Spain 

      6.)  Celebrated St. Patrick’s Day in Dublin

      7.)  Became a mom 

      8.)  Got married

      9.)  Made the kind of friends I always hoped I would

      10.)   Found myself in the back of a police car

      11.) Got a tattoo

      12.) Changed careers

      13.) Started writing publicly

      14.) Helped kids fall in love with reading

      15.) Lived alone

      16.) Lived with strangers 

      17.) Waitressed (poorly) at a diner

      18.) Ran three marathons

      19.) Learned how to cook 

      20.) Taught a different group of high school kids about God and loved it (and them)

      21.) Said no when it was hard to do

      22.) Said yes when it was hard to do

      23.) Zip lined in Costa Rica

      24.) Nurtured relationships with my girlfriends

      25.) Learned how to host a great dinner party, and opened my home to others every chance I got

      26.) Leaned into vulnerability

      27.)  Learned how to advocate for my kid when he needed it

      28.) Got tipsy with my husband on date nights

      29.) Made a commitment to God and continued to work at that commitment even during seasons I  didn’t want to

      30.) Made peace with the things I’m not and the things I don’t do

      31.) Mourned the loss of my dad

      32.) Lived thirty-two years with very few regrets in regard to the decisions I made, the ways I treated people, and the person I was

       So how about you?  What's on your list?