Tag: story

dare to be different, hustle

Gifts or Shadows?

2chicksandapen

What are your gifts or shadows? I took my Enneagram test to verify what I already knew, but also to see how I could play better in the sandbox with others I collaborate with on the daily. I have taken many tests that are similar in nature. Most come out and highlight my dominant gifts or shadows, but this tool allowed me to look a little deeper. It was a good time to test myself. See what the report revealed. Have I changed? What personality types could I clash with? How can I improve?

I am a few years older since my last test of this sort. I am in a different space personally and professionally. I collaborate with a mixed group of individuals now. Timing was good to take a deeper look at me. Below are a few fun facts.

I am an 8 not a 10. Shocker alert! Shoot, I always thought I was a 10 across the board! Just kidding, there are no 10s. I wonder if that is by design? What is an 8 you might wonder?

Number 8 represents The Challenger:

The Powerful, Dominating Type:

Self-Confident, Decisive, Willful, and Confrontational

If you spend anytime around me in the workplace, in the gym, on the field or anywhere for that matter, you are sure to see the challenger in me. Heck, I even drive a fierce red Challenger on the daily. Talk about an irony. Guess I will keep that car since it mirrors my persona!

Next up in the rankings, the results show me as The Enthusiast:

The Busy, Variety-Seeking Type:

Spontaneous, Versatile, Distractible, and Scattered

For those who know me well, they often see me as a headlines girl. The one who looks for shiny objects in those long board meetings. The squirrely friend in the pack. I often enjoy chaos and note the scattered, smothered and covered hash browns you can order at Waffle House when painting a visual to others. #distractible

The next two types came in close so I will list them both below:

The Achiever:

The Success-Oriented, Efficient Type:

Adaptive, Excelling, Driven, and Image-Conscious

I am a driver, no joke there. Not too good at the passenger role but I play it from time to time to keep peace. I strive for success in every aspect of life and I note that a positive image is a must. I would say I ranked up high in the achiever category for good reasons.

The Loyalist:

The Committed, Security-Oriented Type:

Engaging, Responsible, Anxious, and Suspicious

I am disciplined and aim to keep humor in my life. I plan for rainy days and am always suspicious of other people’s motives. This is yet another trait that doesn’t surprise me.

I have the details printed, highlighted and cross-referenced to those I work with closely. I still have one individual to fine tune my traits with, yet that person has failed to complete their Enneagram test. It’s really doesn’t shock me. Some people find it difficult to self-evaluate. Looking in the mirror can be hard. Some don’t want to face the hard truth.

When one person challenges another to look in the mirror, the other can feel intimidated regardless of the real motivation. This is where perception and reality come into play. Your perception of me or my actions may not be the reality. Step out of your comfort zone today. Take an Enneagram Test. I don’t get paid to endorse this test, I just think it’s a good tool to review where you are and how you interact with others around you.

https://www.enneagraminstitute.com

It’s difficult to acknowledge you need to improve yourself but the reality is we all grow each day. Nobody is perfect. We never will be. We can only be the best version of ourselves and it takes time and energy to continue to develop that person. It really takes a lifetime.

At my ripe old age of 47, I can say I have grown by leaps and bounds. Some years the growth was slower than others, but when I recognize the opportunity to grow, I never hesitate. I seize the opportunity and go for it. Challenge yourself today in honor of my car (the red Challenger) and my Type 8, The Challenger. Remember nothing ventured, nothing gained. Will you grow a little today?

friendship, giving

Ordering for the Table

2chicksandapen

img_1852.png

“Can we get saganaki for the table?”

I said it, almost happily. And out loud even, not just in my head. I am usually not the person who orders for the table. Is it a confidence thing? Or just not knowing, second guessing what people might want?  Or someone else beats me to the punch, and takes that chance before me?  Or because right now I am watching what I eat and many times those appetizers are the friedest, sauciest, dippingest, most delectable nibbles that I know I struggle to resist?

The other day, as we celebrated a joyful event in the life of my amazing friend Milagros, we ended up around a table at a Greek restaurant.  Several people had never eaten Greek food.  There were menu questions, unfamiliar words, all kinds of questions and opportunities. (And yes, now I have learned that saganaki is a Greek-American invention, like fortune cookies, etc.)

Saganaki is a guilty pleasure for me. Cheese is a weakness in general.  I remembered when I did keto for a while last year I so enjoyed the saganaki at this restaurant (with no pita.) I figured, why not share this deliciousness with people who have never had it before?

So I did it, people shared it, and tried something new.  Some people thought it was just ok, others found it the same remarkable experience as I do. All of that is wonderful.

So, thinking back over the list above, what was my hangup before?  Probably some of all of them, but mostly lack of confidence gets in my way.  I worry what others might think or want, when really I just need to be bold and order and share what I enjoy with others.  They can try it or not.  In the past, when I haven’t taken the initiative to share, I’ve always felt like it was a missed opportunity to be generous.  Those missed chances I wished I had taken leave me feeling smaller.

I want to be the kind of person who orders for the table, at least sometimes.  And not to show off or be flashy.  I just want to be confident enough to share what I enjoy and stop second guessing myself.  I have no problem with the sharing part, and the confidence part is coming along a little more naturally these days.

Now I am wondering…What are some of the things you share with others that may expand their horizons, make shared memories, become new traditions? Not just food…reading, games, media, activities, and more? What are some new ways I can invite others to share life with me? On the flip side, am I open to trying what people want to share with me?  What do we have to lose?

No matter what, I am so grateful for celebrations and friends to share them with.  Enjoying events and company is so much of what makes life worthwhile.

And cheese makes all of that even better.

 

family

Words to my Mother

2chicksandapen

img_1036

I wrote a Mother’s Day poem for my Mom 27 years ago.  Just weeks before graduating from high school.  All the fighting and sneaking around and lying I had done.  All the awards and trophies and certificates, too.  So many things we had endured, loosely but inevitably connected.

I had chosen to go to college in Ohio, so I was facing being away from her for the first time.  I guess this poem, my gift to her, was my way of showing her that I had begun to understand what she had done for me.  What she had given up for me.  Our bond, which would now be stretched across state lines.

I remember crying as I wrote it, one line in particular.  I remember carefully writing the title in crayon, and smudging it with stuff to bring to mind the kindergarten creations of so many Mother’s Days past.

I laid it on her bed, always neatly made first thing in the morning.  On her paisley pillow, not far from her Pall Mall golds, her ashtray and lighter, the plastic tray filled with her earrings.  There was no fanfare.  I just left it there.

I don’t remember her reaction to the poem.  I’m sure she said thank you, but that may have been it.  With all the flurry of activity around my graduation, I’m sure it just got lost in the shuffle.

Nearly a dozen Mother’s Days came and went before my Mother passed away. At that time, I was pregnant with my first natural-born child and a new Mom to two toddlers. I was exhausted and overwhelmed trying to clean out my parents’ 25-year-old home.

I was sifting through the basket of papers she kept right next to her bed.  Underneath a few People magazines I found file folders with birth certificates, legal papers, these were important things…

then I saw the mauve paper peeking out.  And I knew just what it was. My poem.  Just next to some of the most important things in her life.  My poem.

My mother was not the type to gush.  I clearly got my sentimentality from my Dad.  But seeing my poem in with all her most important papers was all I needed to know.

I nearly lost that paper a couple of times, but eventually I had it framed and it still hangs next to my bed, just like where my mother kept it.  Some of it makes me chuckle now, the overinflated ideas and revelations of a too-big-thinking teenager.  But a lot of it still holds true.  I’ve shared a few lines from that poem below.

Hope you all are celebrating Mother’s Day in whatever way honors the women in your life the best.  Take some time to write words to a woman who has meant something to you.  Our words and our time are some of the most precious treasures we can share.

 

mother

I am born of you

out of a painful love that has

already outlasted my lifetime.

You surround me with your

words and your listening silence

and your arms…

 

mother

we are different stages of the same woman

who learn from each other like learning

from a separate self…

and that is why I say I am always with you – because

I am you

and happy to be, lucky to be

thankful to be

 

mother

what is to be is something we don’t know but I can see that it will involve distance

and I wonder how I will make it –

but I know your love can cover the whole world in its maternal infinity

and your wide arms will tuck me in each night even long after I am gone.

 

mother, (mom)

I would not have this future without the past you’ve so unselfishly given and given.

Thank you for my life. I love you.

-Beth

Mother’s Day, 1992

img_1031

 

 

 

awareness, perspective

My Reflection

2chicksandapen

When I look into the mirror, I see me. I see my strengths, I see my weaknesses and I see the stress I carry from my short life in ways others may not see, even if I’m right in front of them.

What does my reflection show to world? The face of good of health and nourishment, a smile that can light up a room, and eyes that are as blue as the ocean. Some may even say I am cute.

Cute only gets one so far as you age. Cute doesn’t define or shape who I am on the inside. I have a chronic medical condition. I even have a pacemaker-type device in my chest. I have dealt with this medical challenge and it’s rippling effect my entire life.  My life hasn’t been easy. My implant surgery was major and I almost had brain surgery a few years ago. Despite all odds, I have worked hard and persevered in most areas of my life. I have accomplished more than doctors ever thought I could. But nobody knows that I struggle each day.

Only my close friends, family and medical team are my inner circle and know me inside. I don’t even have many close friends because most people shy away from those who are different. Not because I am scary, rather due to lack of
knowledge and willingness to face the unknown. 

I like to keep my condition private to avoid judgment from others. This has been my choice thus far in life. This choice has come with consequences. I have had to miss out on events over the years and lost close friends because I couldn’t do all the things they could do or wanted to do. Social acceptance can be hard as you grow up and missing out on some milestones in my youth days has hindered my development. I can only imagine what challenges will arise in adulthood when you are like me.

As I age, expectations are placed on me that mirror those of others my age to do this or achieve that or even perform a certain way. Basically putting me into a box. A box of what my life should be like for somebody my age. The problem is I don’t fit in that box or any box for that matter.

No box needed! I am special. I am special like a fine jewel, not special as in incapable, stupid, or even retarded. I sometimes have to think differently or take a longer path to complete something due to my medical challenges. Unfortunately, the high-paced hustle of today’s world doesn’t adapt well to people like me.

I’m simple. I don’t really like to use the internet. I barely text. I’d rather talk to another human face to face. I don’t like voicemail either. My communication skills are one of my strongest attributes yet it’s almost a lost skill in today’s technology world.

Getting a job is almost 100% online now. I am a number. If I don’t type well, I fall into the dumb category. If I don’t have a resume full of fancy graphics, I fall short on the tech-savvy qualifier. This list could go on and on about the negatives of being me and being different.

Thankfully, I have been taught not to dwell on the negative but it’s getting harder and harder. I’m emotionally spent every time I need explain the why I’m different or why things take me longer or why I can’t do something even if I look like the person next to me!

My insides are different. I’m wired for me and I just wish the world accepted me for who I am. I can dream that one day people will understand me and appreciate my value because I have value. Sometimes you just have to look beyond the surface to see my loyalty, my trust, my kind soul and my incredible work ethic.

Where do I fit in the world today and where will my future take me? Why does being different have to be so complicated? Why do I have to explain to ignorant people how hard my life already is without adding the stress of their ignorance to my plate?

If only people saw my insides in the mirror instead of my outside. Would they see the time bomb ticking in my head? Would they see a hamster wheel running 24/7? My insides are a mystery to me in a way but would my insides help people tolerate my differences? Should I have to broadcast my life to the world to get acceptance?

In my short time on earth I have learned a lot about people. Some are kindhearted but the vast majority fall into the ‘other’ category that normally puts their own needs and wants ahead of others.

I hope my open letter hits home with somebody on the internet. I hope that one person chooses to be kind today, tomorrow and the next day. This world needs more kindness and hope. More positive messages to overshadow the negative that can weigh a person down.

My life is changing in many ways. I can’t see far ahead because I keep hitting road blocks. I restart over and over but how many times can one restart before they give up?

I want to restart. I hope I can restart now and prepare myself to restart again because all I can see ahead is restarts. I am different in a world of predesigned boxes. Mine apparently has the reject stamp on the box and I’m desperate to reconfigure my box to adapt to my special qualities.

Mental toughness is a battle everyday to some. It gets harder and harder to adapt when roadblocks are tossed at you in abundance. 

One day you may find me floating by on the highway in my not-so-fancy RV or home on wheels. Out to adventure and see the world my way. If I can’t fit in a box I’m going to have to define my alternate path. From what I hear, the road less traveled can be a fun one, since most stay in the box that was designed for them by another. 

Thank you for reading a glimpse of my life. And it’s such a small glimpse it’s like a small hair. Maybe I will share another story or hair of my life again soon. Until then, I will seize the day and tackle all the adversity that comes my way. To please the world as it sits today, I will have one foot in my predesigned box and one foot outside while I figure out my life. I may or may not be flipping the bird to others around me who are ignorant to my differences. 

This story is honest and heartfelt. It is written as a tribute to all those who need a little hope when life gets hard and keeps you in that dark place. Get up, get going and prove others wrong.

perspective

Ready for My Closeup

2chicksandapen

For as long as I can remember, I have avoided being in photographs.

Don’t get me wrong, I love pictures.  I’d challenge you to find someone with more photos on their phone.  I take photos liberally. (Some might say too liberally).  I enjoy taking pictures of people and sharing those snapshots with them.  In our image-saturated social media driven society, images are powerful (if incomplete) representations of who we are, even glimpses of who we are becoming or who we would like to be.

Why don’t I like to see myself in photos?  Some is a longtime dissatisfaction with how I look.  Some is a resistance to being the focus of attention.  I’m just more comfortable focusing the spotlight on others.

Of course I know that photos have their uses. The nutrition program I am on (Stronger U) encourages photos each week.  I only did the before ones and I’m not done yet so I haven’t taken any more progress-type pics.  You get the idea.  I know the importance and benefit of pictures, but much of the time I still try to avoid them, unless I’m in a large group.

Once in a while, though, I’m brave enough to step out in front of a camera.  Recently, the amazing Milagros offered professional photography services at our gym during the CrossFit Open. At Chick 1’s encouragement, I decided to do it. One of my favorite shots is linked in this post.

Then John, our resident CrossFit Faded Glory positivity promoter, snapped a few of me doing an overhead squat in an earllllyyyyy morning workout this past week. (The early hour shows in my eyes, but the arms…!)

Finally, I did take the usual family pics with my crew on Easter, but asked for a solo one as well.

When I saw these shots, each came as a surprise to me. They don’t match the picture I have of myself in my head.  Instead of spongy and weak, I see someone who is getting stronger, more confident. My inner image needs an update.

img_0720

I encourage those of you who are hiding from cameras this week to step in front of one for a shot or two. Pose if you want, or let someone take an action shot of you doing something you practice, something you enjoy.  You may be surprised at how you look. It may also change how you see yourself.