Rejection: A Broken Heart's Education

It's Valentine's Day, so I want to write about love, specifically when it isn't mutual. Don't worry though, this isn't a bitter anti-Valentine's Day post. This is about about when unrequited love teaches you something, which—spoiler alert—can be every single time. (Get it? Single time? Haha.)

I've been, for lack of a better term, "boy-crazy" pretty much my entire life. I distinctly remember my first kindergarten crush (who is also the main character in the only recurring dream I've ever had) and almost all of my puppy love episodes since then. Off the top of my head, I can count about 30 crushes from just my first 9 years of formal education. That's more than 3 boys per year!

My third grade portrait

In high school and college, similar patterns were evident, though I started becoming slightly more selective in my crushing. Much of that growth can be credited to the time my high school boyfriend and I were together. Our relationship taught me how to distinguish attraction/fascination from actual compatibility. It also taught me that although giddy butterflies and twitterpation are really fun, mere infatuation is nowhere near as great as real, tried-and-true, well-worked-for yet comfortable and natural love.

*Side note: I kind of wish it were possible to experience First Love again, because it's amazing. But I'm also grateful to have already had that opportunity, and for pretty much every detail about it.

Anyhow, to this day, I still find it easy to become extremely fond of people after very little time, which, as I've written before, is both a blessing and a curse. It's really amazing to be able to recognize and appreciate the good in people so easily . . . but repeatedly letting myself "fall in love," so to speak, can be exhausting.

As you might expect based on the ridiculous number of crushes I've had, the majority of my great loves over the years have been unreturned, so I've learned a thing or two about rejection. Sometimes I was "rejected" because I didn't even make an effort toward expressing interest, whether that was for lack of self-confidence or a bummed-out understanding that the chemistry just wasn't there. Other times, the rejection was more forthright, as it came in kind response to my more valiant efforts (e.g., the famous four-page long "You're the noodles in my spaghetti, you're the syrup on my waffles, you're the sugar on my frosted flakes" note that I wrote in seventh grade. . . . Those metaphors are direct quotations from the letter, FYI. I still don't know where I got the nerve to actually deliver that thing.)

The point is, to my knowledge, I've been the crusher a heck of a lot more than I've been the crushee. That used to be a major slam to my self esteem, until I realized that my worth is not measured in the amount of affection I get from others. Plus, it's not that I wasn't good enough for these guys, but that I wasn't good (meaning "right") for them. Or that they weren't good for me. And when it all boils down, I'm only going to end up with one, so why get heartbroken or angry when another possibility that wasn't meant to work out anyway gets crossed off the list?

The pain of being rejected by a crush is only skin-deep.

In my extensive experience as a lovesick girl, I've learned that sometimes love feels exciting. Other times it feels difficult, confusing, agonizing, awkward, or just plain sucky. But opening your heart and loving people is always a good thing—even in the face of rejection. I'm sure one day I'll find the perfect kind, witty, musical, knowledge-thirsty, hand-holding, Nacho-quoting, dog-loving, uninhibited-dancing man for me. But in the meantime, I don't mind letting my heart ride roller-coasters with a few of the others I encounter.

So to all my adorable, fun, smart, talented, goofy, kind, charming friends who never liked me "like that," thank you for earning the title of Crush by doing just that with my heart. Whether I confessed my affections in person, stuck a sappy love note written with neon gel pens in your locker, declared it in one quick sentence before blushingly logging off of AIM or Yahoo! Messenger, or just hid my feelings entirely, you have been part of my love education, getting me one tiny step closer to Real Love each time.

Happy Valentine's Day!

I love to see the temple

Last Friday, December 6th, I had the privilege of going to the Raleigh, NC temple and receiving my endowment. I'm writing this both as a record of remembrance for myself and as an opportunity to share some of my feelings from this special day with anyone who reads this.

(For those of you who may be unfamiliar with LDS temples, here are a couple of videos (1, 2) that talk about why we build temples, why they are sacred, and why we live our lives in a way that keeps us worthy to attend. The endowment is a spiritual ceremony in which we learn sacred truths and make covenants with God regarding how we conduct our lives on earth and the blessings that await us in the life to come as we are faithful to those promises.)

This is something I've looked forward to for a long time. Several months ago, I spoke with my bishop about my desire to attend, thinking that I would plan for sometime next year. As we talked week after week, we determined that I may be ready sooner than I had originally anticipated. With my brother Parley getting ready to leave on his two-year mission, I decided I would make it a point to be ready to go at the same time he did so that we could go together.

As we were warned would happen, plenty of things seemed to get in the way as we prepared to go to the temple. Schedules conflicted, finances were scarce, the temple was closed for two weeks for maintenance, I allowed little things to take hits at my happiness and self-esteem (e.g., my last blog post), etc. But, trying to remember that much of the opposition was simply that, I continued to press forward and look forward to the blessings that would come as a result of my preparation. 

I am really blessed to have had many friends and family members who have been examples of faith and strength in making and keeping temple covenants. I owe much of my spiritual preparation to the advice and testimonies they have shared with me. Two comments in particular have stuck with me and were particularly helpful before and after my temple experience. The first one was when, about four years ago, my best friend told me that all the truths taught in the temple could be found in scripture. He said that studying the scriptures and learning how to recognize the symbolism and spirit of the Lord's words would be one of the best ways to prepare to receive temple blessings. In the time that I have been more seriously preparing for the temple, I have remembered that advice time and time again. While I know that I benefited from the increased measure of the spirit that always comes from feasting on the words of Christ, perhaps the more amazing thing to me was how familiar it all felt. That brings me to the other piece of advice that I felt strongly about, which was from my sister-in-law. She suggested that when I go through the temple for the first time, I shouldn't worry too much about remembering every individual word, nor should I try and analyze everything, but that I should instead focus on how I feel while I'm there. I did my best to do that, and that feeling is something I hope to always remember. 

In the temple, I felt still. Even my naturally active, curious brain was calmed, quieted, and enlightened with an overwhelming, yet perfectly simple understanding of Heavenly Father's love for me and for each of His children. Even though the covenants and ordinances were new, the experience did not feel the least bit foreign. It was comfort. It was peace. It was joy. It was love. It was home.

On another note, I've never felt more beautiful in my life. In the temple we wear white as a symbol of purity, and since we are all dressed alike, it also evokes feelings of equality and community. Temple clothing is simple, without ornamentation, in order to keep the focus on Christ and on the ordinances taking place rather than more trivial, worldly things, like how we look compared to someone else. Mama and I have been working on making my temple dress, but we weren't able to finish it before we went, so I planned on borrowing a dress from the temple. The first dress they picked out was a beautiful style, but it was too small, so they brought me another one that was pretty much like an oversized choir robe or my grandma's muumuu. So, to say the least, it wasn't the most flattering piece of clothing I've ever worn. But standing there in the temple, thinking of the covenants I was about to make and remembering my identity and destiny as a daughter of God, I could not have cared less how the dress fit. I was keenly aware of how beautiful I was, not because of the way I looked, but because of the potential within me. I am one of God's creations, and a marvelous one at that!

The Raleigh temple. To my recollection, it is the first temple I ever stepped foot in. Attending the Open House when I was 10 years old is still one of my most vivid childhood memories.  

I am so happy to be where I am now. As is true with everyone, it took a lot of hard work and spiritual growth and change for me to get to this point, but every difficult thing that stood in my way was so incredibly worth the sacrifices it took to overcome. So to those of my friends who are preparing to go to the temple: Do it. Even if you're still young and it will be a few years before you're old enough, start preparing now. Even if a mission or marriage is not imminent, immerse yourself in the scriptures. Do whatever you have to do to become (and remain) worthy to attend. Blessings and beauty await. 

Learning introversion

If you spend a moderate amount of time on social media sites, you may have seen your friends post articles/blogs/comics with the theme of "How to Treat Your Introvert," or "22 Signs You're Actually An Introvert," or something along those lines. Most of my friends who shared those things did so because they already self-identified as introverts or because they read the piece and realized that their personality leaned more toward introversion than they had previously thought. (Many of them are very sociable, friendly, outgoing people, but realized that their happiest, most emotionally-stable moments were when they had time to themselves.)

On the flip side, reading those pieces made me realize that I am an extravert in the truest sense of the word. I recharge my theoretical batteries with human interactions, especially those that involve touching and laughing. Physical touch is my primary love language, and I actually experience a bit of depression when I go too long without giving or receiving a hug or even an arm-touch from another human. Of course I have my moments when I need pondering time alone, but the majority of my soul yearns for meaningful contact with my peers. And those peers happen to be few and far between in this area (or, at least, it seems that way at the moment).

I want to apologize now because I typically try to keep most of my struggles to myself until I've overcome them, or until I've found a satisfactory way to talk about how I'm working through them without breaking down. I don't like to throw public pity-parties because I want to be a source of uplifting encouragement as much as possible. This time, though, I don't really have the solution, and I didn't know what else to do besides blog; it allows me the freedom of figuring out what the heck I'm feeling by writing it out as it comes to me. (I think that's another evidence of my extraversion--my most effective thinking happens when I'm talking/working it through.)

I just know that I'm getting along okay, but I'm not in the happiest place right now. I can say with absolute certainty that moving back home has been the most difficult thing I've done in my life thus far. I have a lot to be grateful for--I could never deny that--but I never would have thought that being back here, even though I'm close to my family, would feel lonelier than being single at BYU. And if I'm being completely honest, I loved being single at BYU (for a large majority of the time) because it allowed me the time and means to form countless friendships of varying degrees. 

Here, things are different. At the end of a busy workday when we've seen a lot of patients, I feel emotionally charged and fulfilled, but my body is tired. Couple that with the scarcity of people my age who have the same interests and standards as mine, and I end up holing myself up every night, every weekend, with no social events to attend, and very few hugs and laughs relative to what I would consider completely gratifying. This week I realized that I've gotten to the point where I can't tell the difference between my extraversion and selfish neediness, and that scares me. I know I need to be around people to be happy, but I don't want to be around them if I'm feeling more concerned with what they can offer me than how I can serve and bless them. To get really technical with it, I'd say I'm in a funk that I just can't shake.   

Out of necessity, I have started trying to cultivate the introverted portion of my personality. Increasing the amount of time I spend developing my faith and spirituality has been the best and most-comforting option so far. Reading more books instead of watching Netflix nonstop is another change that I'm working on that seems to help me be more satisfied in my solitude. Because I like myself just fine, I'm perfectly comfortable going out to lunch, going to movies, and going shopping alone, so I do those things quite often. But a lot of that comfort comes from the opportunity to people-watch in those situations. I may not be communicating with them, but being near a lot of people is still like a breath of fresh air for me, no matter how shallow that breath may be.

I know this is where I was supposed to be a year ago, and I feel like it's still the right place regardless of these challenges, at least until I figure out what my next step is. But if anyone knows how (or if) an extravert can have a satisfying lifestyle in a small, isolated town, pointers and prayers are welcome. 

What's All That Noise About Boys?

A few weeks ago I had the chance to meet up with Isaac, a friend from my freshman year at BYU. I hadn't seen him in at least 2 years, so it was really fun to catch up with him for a bit as he was in the area. As I do anytime I have an enjoyable and memorable experience with a friend, I posted the picture on instagram and facebook.

You wouldn't believe the response I got. The following Sunday at church, I had at no fewer than 5 people ask me about "that tall boy in the picture," and at least one family friend asked my mom, "Now, how is Katelyn?" while making some reference to the picture. All I can figure is I don't post enough pictures of me with boys, so people get overly-excited when there's evidence that I'm friends with one. So this one goes out to all my loving friends and family members. And to my multitude of handsome man-friends.

The culprit. He is definitely tall. He is also funny and motivated, and you just can't help but appreciate his high-energy outlook on everything. 

This is Josh. He's going to be famous one day soon. And we share a birthday, so that's always bonded us. He is also amazing at giving sincere compliments and telling people when and why he appreciates them. 

Jeremy started out as my home teacher and became a really good friend. 

Ryan is probably the kindest person on earth, but he can strongly express his opinion when he needs to. He is, to me, the embodiment of meekness. And he's not weird, he's unique. 

I can't post pictures of boy friends without posting this one of Joey and me, which may be my favorite picture of all time. Which means you'll probably see it every year on his birthday. We're just so dang good-looking! Not to mention he is kind, smart, and important and one of the bravest people I know.

BenBen! (His real name is Nathan and sometimes I forget that.) He is always silly with me. We have an idea for an invention that is going to change the world someday and make us millions. And if not, at least we got a full hour and a half of bellyaching laughter over it. He makes me smile every time I talk to him. 

Brady. He appreciates NC as much as if he were a native. He also just knows how to be a fun, laid-back, good friend. (Side note: This is just the first of many mustache pictures to come, and you've seen all of them before too.)

Eric. He is an NC native. He is brilliant. He holds incredibly thought-provoking conversations and has awesome perspectives on life. He also likes the Avett Brothers, so rock on.

Gregory! He's super smart and appreciates dorky humor with me. He is also a good person to get nerdy about Linguistics with. 

Kevin, A.K.A. Laverl. We were pretty much instant friends when we met, and we got to work together in our church callings. We had tons of fun planning activities including a winter campout (with pancakes and chili for dinner) as well as a 2AM Thriller dance-learning session. And let's not forget the neverending search for tablecloths.  Also, he sealed the "awesome friend" deal when he came and visited me in NC last year. 

Ohhhhh Mawk. One of the most driven, inspiring, devilishly handsome people I have the privilege of being friends with. 

Clark: fake fiance and fantastic forever friend. He is always up for serious, soul-searching conversation as well as lightheartedness and laughter. The motto of our friendship: Ain't no valley high, ain't no mountain low. 

Eric! We only met a few months before I moved away from Utah, but he is so warm and friendly.  

CJ. Don't let the babyface fool you, he's got a good little streak of fire in him. But he has a good sense of when to be laid-back and when to be passionate. He's also very smart and fun-loving. 

Good ol' Chad. Very patient, as he put up with a lot of crap from some of us girls. Lover of a good prank. Can Beyoncé his booty 10 times better than I can. 

Dan. He is really good at conversation and making people feel important. And he's getting married this weekend! Woohoo!

Dude, it's David. He's chill, loving, and genuinely interested in the life and unique story of each person he meets. 

Pablísimo! He is multitalented and always learning something new. He cooks great food, and when he laughs, he means it. 

Jesse, another of my NC friends. He's super talented and easygoing. 

Sam and Steven. They were part of my dinner group. Both hilarious and affectionate in their own (very different) ways. 

The silliest, most wonderful Spencer. He's really good at having fun, but he's also very compassionate, and when people are important to him, he expresses that love and appreciation very sincerely.

I just felt like it was fitting for Joey to get multiple pictures because he has kind of always been there in my life. And this is but a glimpse of why I keep him in it. 

Ty, the original college bestie. When looking through my photos I got sad because I realized he and I only have like 2 pictures together after 6 years of friendship. Apparently we didn't have many picture-worthy moments, I thought. But now I'm kind of glad because maybe it means we were just too busy enjoying our awesome friendship to interrupt it with a camera flash.

And now that I've compiled all of these I should admit that I did have to go back to pictures taken more than a year ago to find all of these, not to mention half of these guys are married now. So if there are any handsome men out there who would like to be featured in a more current collection of photographs with me, just holla at yo' girl.

Changes for the better

Oh, media cleanse, how did I love thee? Let my readers bear with me as I get really wordy while counting the ways:

For two weeks, I went without facebook, instagram, twitter, google+, movies, netflix, hulu, or youtube, all of which have consumed an embarrassing majority of my time over the past 6+ years. (This is no exaggeration, and I'm not making light of anything; I have truly had an addiction for much of the time these tools have been in existence. Only recently have I realized the effect that the overconsumption of media and social networking has had on my spiritual and emotional health enough to want to change those habits; that addiction is much of what spurred my desire to participate in this cleanse.)

For two weeks, I had incredibly few thoughts that I wasn't nice enough, smart enough, pretty enough, skinny enough, tan enough, funny enough, cool enough, or _______ enough (Insert quality of choice, no matter how superficial.). 

In those two weeks, I realized for the first time that even though the media and social pressure can provide the ammunition for those negative thoughts, I'm the one who ultimately thinks them. I have the power to choose what messages I will internalize, and if something is harmful to me, I have every right to turf it. Furthermore, I have the right--and I'd go as far to say as the responsibility to myself--to replace it with something that is good for me, something that uplifts instead of degrades, that brings joy and light instead of depression and darkness. I don't have to fall victim to the constant barrage of negativity that, just as an example, puts down some women for being too fat and others for being too thin, all the while forgetting that our worth comes from who we are and what we do, not what we look like. 

During those two weeks, hearing other friends talk negatively about themselves and their bodies was emotionally painful for me. I started to wonder how many times I had participated in such talk about myself, only to be flooded with countless memories of specific instances when I had done so, especially in reference to my size and my fair, virtually un-tannable skin. But why would I ever put down such a wondrous creation? Most of us wouldn't dare say the things about our friends' bodies that we say about our own, so why should we entertain negative thoughts about the amazing, intricate, beautiful bodies we have, bodies that are capable of so many wonderful things? 

I'm not saying that all my self-esteem issues have vanished in two weeks, but by golly have they become a lot more manageable. Because I started internalizing the idea that my body is worth more than what it looks like,  I let myself do and feel and experience things without body-monitoring myself into self-consciousness and feelings of worthlessness. 

I spent less time looking down to see if my walk was attractive or if my legs looked long enough in my pants or if my belly was sucked in enough to hide the rollage at my waistline. Even in my swimsuit at the beach and the pool, I wasn't constantly looking in mirrors or windows to make sure I was sucking in enough to hide my belly. Instead, I found myself looking up and out, allowing myself to see the beauty in the world around me, both in scenery and in humanity. I perceived the people around me as humans with lives to be celebrated, not bodies with parts to be compared to my own. As I encountered strangers, I wondered more about their interests and hobbies than I did their diet or exercise habits or how they found clothes that looked so good on them. I chose to experience life as a complex, real person interacting with complex, real people, not as a consumer sponge soaking up superficial images and judgmental, negative attitudes. 

For two weeks, I participated in more wholesome recreation -- more guitar-playing and singing than I've taken the time to enjoy in a long while, a couple of sewing projects, reading a couple of novels, driving through less-familiar parts of my breathtakingly beautiful hometown for no reason, and letting myself experience things without being so concerned about proving that I did them, or seeing what other people thought about them, or wondering how many likes or comments I'd get if I posted about them. 

In other words, for the first time in a long time, I had two full weeks of living my life for the joy of living it instead of living for others' opinions on it. And it was overwhelmingly liberating. 

For two weeks, I made an effort to have more face-to-face interaction with my family than I was used to having . . . and yet, somehow, that translated to fewer arguments and frustrations with them. I tried to provide more service to them, more love for them, more forgiveness and patience for their shortcomings, and more acknowledgement of their virtues. I don't know if they realize this, but they gave it right back to me, too. 

For two weeks (and counting), I have had more powerful scripture study than I've had in at least two years. In those two weeks, I had the privilege of finishing The Book of Mormon again. (News flash: it's still mega-true.) I had forgotten what it was like to read the scriptures daily and actually have sacred, special, uplifting insights every time--but that's what I experienced, because I was finally doing it out of genuine desire to learn and grow. That desire is something I've prayed for for a while, and all I had to do was show my Heavenly Father that I was ready to do what it took to receive it and willing to change based on the inspiration I received. 

All this came about because I made simple changes in how I spent my time. Those changes made it easier to improve the attitude with which I greeted myself in the mirror each morning. And though I do not feel the need to go into detail about some of the struggles I've been facing over the past few months, I want to share that now I truly know that I can do all things through Christ, and that strengthens me more than I ever let myself believe it could. I'm ready to change for the better and progress in ways I've only dreamed of until now. I feel extremely loved, blessed, and hopeful.