Stephany Writes

Categories: About Me

A Sappy Post About Blogging

I’ve been thinking a lot about blogging lately. Spending an entire month without blogging was hard on me. I use this space as more than just a place to write but a place to let out all my thoughts and journal through my feelings. I’m pretty open and vulnerable in my posts and it’s a cathartic release for me to write some of my more vulnerable posts.

August was hard on me and I think some of that comes from not blogging. I had a friend tell me that coming back to my blog and talking through my feelings on August might help me get out of my funk. And she was totally right. While I did some journaling and soul-searching during that month, it wasn’t the same as blogging. There was something inherently missing from my writing, even though journaling let me be even more open, even more whiny than usual. But there is just something magical about this space for me. I share my ideas and get feedback. I open my heart up and get support. I have taken friends who were just people who commented on my blog and turned them into people I go to when I need a listening ear or a place to vent.

My life would be drastically different if I did not have this blog.

Because of this blog, I have opened myself up more to new ideas and ways of thinking. I have done more things to break out of my comfort zone and stop living such a small life inside my bubble. I am beginning to understand me and I know if it wasn’t for the blogs I read, or the friends who I have grown to love like sisters, or the ways I have poured my heart out to my blog to get feedback and support – I would still be stuck in my little bubble, afraid of evening attending a meet-up event for fear of what people might think of me.

Lately, I’ve been asking myself the question, why do I blog? Why do I spend hours each week creating posts, connecting with other readers, and reading blogs? What is in it for me? My readership has gone down, my comments have gone down, and while I don’t check my stats regularly, I am assuming they have gone down as well. Blogging has changed. Blogging is different than when I first started. Those friends I met in the beginning are no longer blogging. I know my writing has changed in dramatic ways (now that I’m no longer ranting about life and realizing people are reading my writing and let’s try to rein in the whiny posts a bit, ‘kay?).

I went through a long period of questioning my blogging style and ways I could change to make my blog better and more successful. I wanted to make something of my blog and learn all those big keywords bloggers need to be aware of to grow their blogs. And then one day, I just stopped. I stopped writing for my readers (though I love you guys tremendously and MWAH!). I stopped fretting about stats and comments. And I just wrote. For me. I started using my blog to write through my tough times and hardships and exciting vacations and ponderings of the universe. I started writing about my faith and being serious that no, I do not have it all together but I’m trying. I started to realize that I am writing this blog for myself. I am holding onto this blog because I need it in my life. Even if I pour my heart and soul into a blog post and get no response to it, that is okay. I don’t need to be a blogger who gets 80 comments when I just post a picture of my dog sleeping. I don’t want to be a blogger who just posts a photo of my dog to get a post up. I want to be a blogger who is a writer. I want to be a writer who has a blog. I want my blog to be a place where people can come and know I’m going to be honest and forthright, a place for people to be inspired or want to offer advice, a place that is wholly, 100% me.

Even if that means fewer readers. Even if that means fewer comments. Even if that means I’m never going to be a successful megablogger.

Even if.

This blog is my release. It is my space to journal. It showcases my journey from a timid and shy 21-year-old on the precipice of a new beginning to an almost 25-year-old woman who is growing into her skin and herself. Who understands herself better and embraces her successes and failures.

Having readers and developing friendships have been one of the best parts of this blog and I love that. I will always love that. And never hesitate to email me to just say hey. Some of the best friendships I’ve developed off this blog have developed because one of us got brave enough to just say hey.

I am no longer struggling with my identity of this blog because I have released the need to worry about it. I will not fret over comments or falling stats. Why do I blog? I blog because not blogging would be like taking away a part of my heart. I blog because I have to. Because it is as true to me as breathing.

Why do you blog?

Categories: About Me

Four Days of NaNoWriMo

It is Day 5 of NaNoWriMo. I am 8,201 words into my story. I am 1,533 words above where I should be now and I am shooting to be at 10,300 words by the end of today. So far, NaNoWriMo is going amazingly. I am at the point where I am sure I can win this and learning to let go of expectations and the editing gene that’s in me to just get words on paper.

Up until October 31, I had a completely different story in mind. A fun little romance just to get my feet wet in the process of writing. I wanted to keep it easy, something I could write about without too many issues. And then I realized I had to write the story that has been brewing in my head for years. A coming-of-age story that borrows from a lot of my experience during my first year at USF. I spent the last day of October, furiously writing down a semblance of a backstory with characters in mind to give my main character more depth. No outline. No research. And I’m getting to know my character as I write her. And while I keep toying with the idea of changing my story completely (my mistake on my last attempt at NaNoWriMo), I push away those thoughts and focus on this story. (I have given myself permission to outline the other story brewing in my head once I complete my word count for the day, though.) At this point, it’s really too late to change to a different story and still make the 50,000 word count. (Unless I spend all my weekends writing!)

My life has begun revolving around meeting my daily word count. I carve out time every day to sit down and just write. It usually doesn’t take me more than an hour and I write in 15-minute increments. I set the timer, write furiously, and then give myself a 5-minute break to get up and stretch, read a blog, anything to take my mind off my story for a bit. Then I’m back at it for another 15 minutes. This process is working for me because I’m not the type that can just sit down and hammer out 2,000 words in one sitting. I don’t operate that way. (Yet!) I’m just crossing my fingers that I can keep up with this pace, although the further I get into my story, the further problems may arise which is why I’m trying to be above my word count to help me when that comes.

I was never the type of writer who liked to work without an outline. Even for my school papers, I would usually lay out some type of plan to figure out what I wanted to say and how I wanted to say it. A few years ago, I was reading a blog of a published YA novelist who got her first book deal at the age of 22 (!) and has since then published a plethora of novels. She talked about how she doesn’t use outlines. They don’t work for her. The process of just sitting down at the computer each day and figuring out the story as she went along was easier than adhering to an outline. She said when she sat down to write her first novel, she didn’t even know that her main character was going to end up with the guy she fell in love with!

And I loved that.

I loved how she just wrote. Figured things out organically. I think there’s always this broad idea we have in our heads of what we want to say but there’s a certain magic that happens when we just write like we are a reader, finding things out as we go.

The story I’m writing for NaNo doesn’t have an outline. I have a broad idea of what I want to happen throughout the novel, but not piece by piece. I want to figure out each piece as I write and it seems to be coming together that way. There are things happening to my main character that I didn’t expect, situations arising that I didn’t plan for. Sometimes, it feels a bit chaotic to just write without a plan but it’s all coming together somehow.

I wanted to do NaNoWriMo to show myself I could complete it and to establish a daily writing habit for myself. It’s become so easy for me to set aside my fiction and this is the first time since last NaNoWriMo (where I wrote for less than a week!) that I’ve done so much writing at one time. If my biggest dream for my life is to be an author, I have to be an author. I have to stop dreaming about it and planning for it and just sit down and do it. Daily.

Categories: About Me

On Therapy

It’s not a secret that I struggle with anxiety. I struggle with a constant state of fear, knots in my tummy, an all-consuming worry that something awful is about the befall me and/or my family at any given moment. And because of my anxiety, it leads to all other sorts of complications in my life: not taking chances, not being as social as I know I can be, self-confidence issues and tons and tons of doubt flowing through my mind on a daily basis. Panic attacks are infrequent as I can recognize the signs and generally calm myself down, but they still happen.

It is exhausting. It is so exhausting. And I hate feeling like there is something wrong with me like I am broken and need to be fixed.

What is stopping you from making an appointment with a therapist? is the question Ashley posed to me during our 60-minute call on Friday night.

I could give tons of excuses: laziness, not really knowing how to go about setting up an appointment, money, etc. I can cite my (self-prescribed) social anxiety and how the thought of stepping into an office where I have to talk about my feelings on a regular basis scares the crap out of me. I don’t like talking about my feelings (which is probably why my last pseudo-relationship ended like it did because he was all “Let’s talk about our FEEEEELINGS!” and I’m all, “So, did you see the game last night?”) and I just prefer to shove all my actual emotions deep down into my heart and not deal with them. I would rather put on a happy face and act like things don’t hurt me than actually deal with my feelings. I’m getting better at it but it’s not something that comes easily to me.

My family has never been a touchy-feely, let’s-talk-about-our-feelings family. With my mom and my brother, we are getting better and better at communicating and expressing ourselves but there’s still that tendency to shove everything under the rug, keep our mouths shut, and pretend everything is hunky-dory. It’s easier. Simpler. Less involved.

And while all of the above is true, I think there’s also one big reason I keep putting off therapy.

My father.

Most of you are familiar with the background surrounding my father’s relationship with me (short story? He decided he did not want to be a part of my life anymore after I actually expressed how I felt about his treatment of me throughout the years. He sent me a scathing reply back, with words no daughter should ever hear from her father. See why I don’t like talking about my feelings?)

I’ve been holding onto my resentment, my anger, my sadness surrounding our relationship. I’ve been keeping it locked up tight. It may sound funny since I actually talk about my father a lot on this blog it seems, but it’s something I don’t open up much about in my life. I don’t want people to think I’m seeking their pity and honestly, it’s a pretty personal subject that I only bring up if I have advice or an “insider’s view” to offer someone. I’m a private person to MOST people and I can count on one hand the number of people I feel comfortable enough talking about my actual feelings on things that are private & personal. I tend to shut down emotionally when people bring my dad up, because it only serves to dredge up emotions I’d rather not deal with and all-consuming sadness that my father is still alive and well, yet wants nothing to do with me. It breaks my heart anew every day.

I managed to open up to Ashley about my dad and how I was a bit frightened of what would be expected of me in regard to talking about him. And it’s something I could keep refusing to talk about (even in therapy) but it’s something I know I have to stop refusing to talk about. I have to open up about it. I have to express my feelings. I have to let myself cry about our failed relationship. Did you know I’ve cried ONCE about my dad? One. Time. That was when he sent me the nasty reply back. Since then, though I may be on the verge of tears, I don’t let them fall. I do everything in my power to keep those tears inside my eyeballs because I can’t let him win. I can’t let him make me cry.

I’m scared to talk about my father because I am so emotional over him. I am so, so sad and so, so angry. I want him back in my life so badly, yet I know unless I get an apology, I can’t let him back in my life. I’m scared to stop holding onto this resentment and anger and sadness and guilt because it’s the one thing that keeps him in my life. It’s my one grasp on my father. If I talk about him, if I actually let go of the anger and sadness, then I actually have to let him go. He will no longer have this hold over me. And he will be gone from my life. Not entirely, because he is still my father and he will always be a part of my heart, but in a big way, I will be letting him go.

That scares me to death.

But on the other hand, I know it will be the most freeing thing I can do for myself. I know it’s holding me back from so much. I know I let his words affect my life and my actions way too much. And to finally work through the pain, work through the emotions, work through our relationship will be the best thing I can do to let go and move on with my life. He may never be the father I need him to be to allow him back into my life, and I have to be okay with that.

During the call with Ashley, one of my action steps to take was to set up a therapy appointment. That’s the first step in healing, in figuring out how to control my anxiety, and something I continue to put off because I’m terrified of what therapy will reveal to me. But I’m tired of this half-life I am living, tired of feeling too broken to be in a relationship, tired of the constant worry that eats away at me every day. I’m ready to figure out what steps I need to take to live a life with more abundance and everyday joy.

So I made an appointment. On Halloween. I am going to therapy.

Any advice you can give a first-time therapy goer is greatly appreciated! I am quite nervous, but also feel relieved to have crossed the first hurdle in taking care of myself.

Categories: About Me

Friday Fill-In

I guess I’m in a post-stealing mood this week because today’s post is borrowed from the wonderful Lisa! I love doing these types of posts because I find they can be great journaling exercises. Enjoy!

I wish I could afford to go on a cruise for my birthday. (There is a perfect 4-day one that leaves the day after my birthday and travels to the Bahamas but it’s just not in the cards. I guess two cruises in one year will have to be enough!)

I want to get the “okay” to do more strenuous exercise during my follow-up orthopedic appointment next week. I am struggling with motivation since I’ve been relegated to just light exercising because it doesn’t feel like “enough”.

I always pick Dutch up for a long “good morning” hug every morning. His body is so warm and sleepy and just absolutely perfect.

I need to be smarter about my money. I need to tighten up my budget and may have to start using the envelope system for my everyday needs!

I feel anxious when I think about my future.

I think way more than I should. If only there was a way to silence my brain!

I ask questions infrequently. I really need to break this fear of looking stupid and just starting asking, no matter what other people may think.

I hear the dryer and the dishwasher working simultaneously. (Have I mentioned lately how nice it is to have our own washer & dryer? It’s fabulous.)

I smell Dutch’s stinky dachshund breath whenever he gives me a kiss. It’s one of the most comforting smells in the world for me!

I ponder what my next step is going to be and when that is going to take place.

I seek for God’s wisdom when I’m confused or unsure of what to do about rocky situations.

I play board games more competitively than most. I am a whiz at trivia-type board games, but am literally the worst Monopoly player there ever was. (Obviously, I am not good at budgeting in real life or fake! Sigh.)

I try to see both sides of every issue, no matter how passionately I feel about the issue.

I prefer the NFL to college football, but I still like to catch a few college games every week.

I wonder why I am so awkward and shy in social situations – even when I’m meeting people I know!

I believe that God has a crazy-amazing plan for my life and as long as I follow in His will, I will see that plan come to fruition.

I mean every word I write in my letters to my future husband. Those words are my heart and soul and it makes me giddy to think about a special man reading them someday.

I never imagined my life turning out the way it has, but I’m okay with where I am now. I am exactly where I am meant to be.

I plan on meeting a group of girls I’ve never met next week for tapas and sangria. I am scared to death (as the last time I did something like this, it was awful and I felt so left out and basically cried on my way home and yes, I am that pathetic) but I know I will feel better for having tried.

I hope my review today (!) goes better than I expect it to.

I worry about my future on a daily basis.

I dislike condescending people. Quickest way to turn me off is to treat me like my ideas and thoughts are silly.

I struggle with self-doubt and insecurity a lot. It can be exhausting to be inside my head!

Categories: About Me

A Weekend of Life Lessons

This weekend was a learning experience for me.

It was the first weekend since I left for college back in 2006 that I was completely, wholly alone for an entire weekend. My mom was in Orlando from Friday afternoon until Sunday night and I was on my own. I won’t lie. I was nervous. I wasn’t looking forward to it. And while I had planned some fun things to do for myself this weekend (beach yoga, a solo trip to IKEA, and a trip to the dog park), everything got thrown to the wayside thanks to my sprained ankle.

When I left for college, I had no idea how tough the change would be for me. I was too busy buying new stuff for my dorm room, getting to know my roommate, and making plans for my college future. But the move away was hard on me. Extremely hard. I was thrown outside my comfort zone, with a roommate I didn’t get along with, and in a semester with classes that tested every level of my academic ability. It was so difficult that I still get knots in my stomach whenever I take the exit off I-275 that I used to get to my university. I only lived 30 minutes away so I eventually ended up going home almost every weekend, which, in hindsight, wasn’t the best decision for me. I should have forced myself to stay there, get more involved, and make friends. But I wasn’t in the state of mind to actively put those plans into action. I was just trying to survive the year at college.

Ever since then, I’ve had this fear that being on my own, or even living away from home, is something I’m incapable of doing. That I am too attached to my mom and I would never get rid of that knot of anxiety in my stomach if I ever moved away. It’s this fear I have that I’m so afraid of voicing because, hello, a 24-year-old who is scared to leave her mother’s house is a WEIRDO. I should want to be independent and on my own and only responsible for myself. That’s the whole POINT of adulthood, right? There is something wretchedly wrong with me if leaving my mother’s house filled me with such fear and anxiety.

Never mind that my mom is more than just a parent for me. She is, at her core, my best friend, closest confidant, and someone I get along with really, really well. We’ve always been close like that and living with her is comfortable and easy. (And much, much cheaper than living on my own.)

I have plans to move out. I don’t intend to be 30 years old and still living at home. I know I need to get out on my own and experience life in a completely different way. But it’s easy to let those plans fall to the wayside in favor of the comfortable. Letting long-term goals stay far in the future because the here and now is so much easier.

My solo weekend wasn’t anything exciting. I tried to make plans with friends but those fell through. I Skyped with Melissa, who is seriously the most wonderful person ever, ever, ever. My brother and nephew came over on Saturday night and on Sunday to watch football. I read. A lot. I did a lot of cleaning and preparing for moving next weekend. I went to church by myself. And it was nice. It was a low-key, relaxing weekend. It recharged me. And through it all, I began to question how it would feel if this was my life. If I was alone and in a new city where I didn’t know anyone. The funny thing is, I may have grown up here but most of my friends have moved away or we’ve grown apart. I feel more connected to friends I’ve met through blogging than to people I’ve grown up with. I’ve grown comfortable with having my mom as my built-in friend. I don’t need to make elaborate weekend plans because I’ll just hang out with my mom! We’ll go shopping and out to eat and sit around and watch TV. Building your life around one person is dangerous and unhealthy. Even if I do end up finding someone I want to be with, I still need to create a life worth getting excited about.

I don’t need to become a social butterfly or sign up for a bunch of new classes and groups. I just need to build a life that suits my desires, wants, and needs. I need to get out more and get more involved in this thing called life. I have to stop hiding behind my shyness and insecurities and take chances on meeting new people. I spent most of August in a daze because I was looking at my life and so freaking unhappy with what I saw. And sometimes, we need to just BE UNHAPPY. We need to cry ourselves to sleep and moan about all the problems we have. I think we’ve become a society that is so focused on DOING and BEING and if you hate your life, just change it! when, honestly? It just doesn’t work that way. Yes, we control our responses to what happens to us but never underestimate the power of the mind when you stop processing your emotions. Things aren’t going to change overnight, or even in the space of a month. I can tell myself to be happy, but all that does, in the long run, is affect the overall emotions I’m dealing with. But I also know that we do have the power to change our circumstances and if we are so freaking unhappy with the way our life is playing out, we have to take the steps to fix it. And that happiness lies in the every day, not the endpoints.

So I was sad in August and it sucked. It’s no fun being sad, but I had to stop fighting myself and just be okay with less happy emotions. And through that, I began to see what facets of my life I wanted to change. What I was doing that was sabotaging my efforts for a more fulfilling life for me. And this weekend taught me that I can handle being on my own and I enjoy the solitude. But I also enjoy being around people and I crave relationships.

This weekend taught me a lot. It taught me I need to stop being so dependent on my mom. It taught me that I will be okay when I move out and start my life on my own. And, above all, it taught me to start living my life. The way I want to live it. And to stop putting it off until this happens or that begins. It doesn’t mean it has to be an exciting life to those around me, but it has to be a life I enjoy and that makes me happy. And while I’m still not 100% certain what all that entails, I do know that I’m ready to forge my own path. It starts with an RSVP to a young women’s book club in my area and the return of women’s Bible study to my schedule… and from there, it’s up to me to continue putting myself out there and not letting a little thing like fear steal the joy that can be found in standing outside my comfort zone.