A few weeks ago, I took Gretchen Rubin’s test to find out my most neglected sense. I honestly wasn’t sure which one I was going to get. Sight? Hmm, maybe not. I find great appreciation in pretty things. A sunset, blooming flowers on a tree, landscapes on vacation, beautiful pictures of my cats (ha). Taste? I’m a picky eater, so does that count? But damn, I love eating food that tastes really good to me. That first sip of a cold Dr. Pepper, a really juicy orange, a gooey chocolate chip cookie, a tortilla piled high with seasoned beef and cheese. Mmm! Smell? Oh god, this can’t be it. I am so sensitive to smells! Good smells and bad smells alike. Wouldn’t it be nice if we could just lose our sense of a type of smell? If I never had to smell when my cats gave me a very special present in their litter boxes, I would be a happy gal. Touch? I am not a touchy-feely person, so maybe. I love a good hug from someone, but it’s not something I seek out. Then again, I do love other kinds of “touch,” like the feeling of a soft blanket wrapped around me while I’m reading or cool sheets as I slip into bed or the way Eloise and Lila feel under my palm. Hearing? Hmm… maybe. I am very sensitive to loud noises. One of my least favorite things is to go somewhere for a meal, only to find out they’re playing live music. It can feel physically painful to my eardrums when I’m in a loud environment. I’ve never been someone particularly drawn to listening to music. One of the things I love about working from home is that I can keep my apartment pin-drop silent throughout the day. I made sure to check all the soundproofing companies near me to install soundproofing panels to my rooms. I once tried to work with a few coworkers and they had no problem writing while an old episode of The Office played in the background. I wrote one sentence during the 20-something-minute episode. ONE. SENTENCE. Once I took the quiz, I was not all too surprised to learn my most neglected sense is hearing. The more I thought about it, the more it made… sense (pun?). I’m a highly sensitive person, which means certain environments can be hell on my nervous system. Things that wouldn’t bug other people (most people like to hear live music!) feel physically painful for me. I’ve had to remove myself from loud environments because I’m so uncomfortable. (How did I handle the Taylor Swift concert? Y’all, I don’t know. Maybe because I was prepared to be in a super-loud environment and because it was my girl Taylor, I was able to handle it better than a “surprise” loud environment.) After taking the quiz and finding out my most neglected sense, Gretchen Rubin provides a long list of recommendations; experiences to seek out to allow me to better engage with my hearing sense. What I loved about the hearing recommendations is that they weren’t all about doing things that required, well, hearing. She recommended investing in noise-canceling headphones, removing noisy alerts from my phone, and trying an audiobook subscription. I think knowing that hearing is my most neglected sense and being clear on why (being an HSP) is going to help me feel less guilty about how much I despise live music or how little I use my Spotify account (for anything other than listening to Taylor’s newest release, oops). And maybe I can start cultivating some hearing experiences for myself, like visiting a sound bath and making an upbeat playlist for myself, so I can engage with this sense in a way that works best for me. What is your most neglected sense?
The Colbert Questionert | My Answers
Have you heard about The Colbert Questionert? I first heard about it on a podcast when the hosts went through the questions together and I loved it so much, I wanted to answer the questions on my blog. Let’s do it!
1) Best sandwich?
When I was a kid, there was this hole-in-the-wall shop near my mom’s work that mostly sold meats and cheeses, and they also made the best subs ever. The bread was fresh, the turkey was delicious. My brother and I got a lot of subs from that shop. The shop is no more, but I still think of those subs fondly and I’m desperate to find a sub that tastes as good as those. I’m a simple gal when it comes to sandwiches, a turkey sandwich is good for me. Recently, I’ve tried branching out when it comes to my toppings and my new favorite sub is turkey with pepperjack cheese, onion, pickles, cucumbers, salt and pepper, and Boar’s Head deli dressing. Yum, yum!
2) What’s one thing you own that you really should throw out?
This one is hard because I don’t really keep things around that I should throw out. In fact, I’m the type of person who will throw something out and then a couple months later realize I needed that thing. Oops. I should probably throw out some of my sports bras and replace them, though. I can’t remember the last time I bought a sports bra!
3) What is the scariest animal?
Sharks. My brother loves them, but they terrify me. On my trip to Chicago with my mom, we went to the Shedd Aquarium and they were showing a short documentary on sharks and I don’t think I will ever be the same. Sharks are vicious!
4) Apples or oranges?
Oranges! I’m a Florida girl—we love our oranges here.
5) Have you ever asked someone for their autograph?
Do author signings count? I didn’t literally ask them, but I did stand in line and thrust a book in their faces to sign. Taylor Jenkins Reid signed Daisy Jones and the Six and Lisa Unger signed The Stranger Inside.
6) What do you think happens when we die?
Honestly, I have no idea. Growing up, I believed in the evangelical Christian idea that there is a Heaven and a Hell. Those who accept Jesus Christ into their hearts get to live with Jesus in Heaven and those who do not suffer eternal damnation in Hell. The thought of facing eternity in Hell was so traumatic and terrifying to me. Do I believe that they exist? No, I don’t. Do I love the thought that Grandma and Pops are together in Heaven and I’ll see them again someday? Yes, I do. But these days, I think I mostly believe that we cease to exist and we live on in future generations and the memories of our loved ones.
7) Favorite action movie?
The Italian Job. There was a summer where I watched that movie on a weekly basis, and it’s a movie I think about way too frequently. It was funny and heartfelt and the final action scene was so well-done. GIMME.
8) Favorite smell?
It’s hard to name just one smell. I love the smell of freshly brewed coffee, old books, Christmas trees, pumpkin-scented anything, and… gasoline, if I’m going to be weird.
9) Least favorite smell?
Ugh, wet cat food. The way my room gets stinky after a cat has used the litter box for a very specific purpose. Garbage.
10) Exercise: worth it?
Yes, it’s worth it. It’s good for our cardiovascular health! I’m just lazy about doing it.
11) Flat or sparkling?
Sparkling. Give me all of the LaCroix, please. Once I found out I could use sparkling water for hydration, all bets were off.
12) Most used app on your phone?
Overcast because I am always listening to podcasts.
13) You get one song to listen to for the rest of your life: what is it?
Damn, this is a hard one! I might choose a classic hymn like It Is Well With My Soul but the version sung by Jars of Clay because it has a great beat.
14) What number am I thinking of?
14.
15) Describe the rest of your life in 5 words.
Knowing what’s best for me.
What are some of your favorite smells?
Coming to Terms With Myself at Pride
I attended my very first Pride parade this weekend, and what an experience! It was a day filled with happiness and joy and love. St. Pete Pride is one of the biggest Pride parades—the largest in Florida—and this year it drew more than 300,000 people. Eeks! That’s a big crowd.
I had a blast working our way around to all of the different vendors and checking out their wares. There were a lot of fun freebies to enjoy, like pins and stickers and fans. (It was sunny and in the mid-90s on Saturday so everyone needed a fan to keep cool.) A vendor was selling super eclectic earrings and I ended up buying three pairs. I especially loved these cat yin-yang earrings because, with the coloring, the cats look like Ellie and Lila!
Pride was amazing, though. It was fun to be surrounded by the queer community and our allies. It felt like such a joyful celebration of love and acceptance. (There were a lot of “Don’t Say DeSantis” shirts.) I felt cute in my rainbow tutu and flower crown.
My coming out process has been a long, slow journey of accepting myself and hoping others will do the same. For a long time, I didn’t want to accept my queerness because it felt sinful. (Hashtag growing up in an evangelical faith community) And then I didn’t want to accept it because it felt scary. And then I realized I had to accept this about myself because it is who I am and I desperately wanted to explore what it could mean in my life. Every time I saw a cute female couple, I felt raging jealousy that they got to be together. Every time I started swiping through photos of women on dating apps, I felt slightly terrified but mostly excited. Here’s how to find the photos you prefer online.
But still, I didn’t throw myself into the queer community. I didn’t come out anywhere. I only let a few friends who I knew would be happy and supportive know. I felt like I could be bisexual but maybe I would fall in love with a man and then I didn’t have to truly come out. (I also realize this is why bi erasure happens—bisexual people can appear straight if they are in an opposite-sex relationship.) But then I started dating a woman in 2021 and I came out to my mom (continuing to use non-gendered pronouns when talking about my relationship was very hard, as evidenced on the blog during this time). I came out on my blog that same year, which was frightening, even though I knew you guys would be amazing, and you were.
And yet.
I still wasn’t fully immersed in the queer community. I would read queer books and follow queer people online, but that was the extent of my immersion. I didn’t have any sort of local queer community. I did not attend any LGBTQIA+ events. I did not talk about Pride during June or any other month. I kept it all to myself because I could. I have the privilege of being a feminine-presenting woman and the privilege of also being attracted to the opposite sex.
Part of my process of owning my sexuality has been grieving the person I thought I was. That sounds dramatic, I know, but I had to come to terms with the fact that my life was going to look a lot differently than I thought it would when I was younger. It meant I would need to be brave enough to come out to people I deeply love and adore, but who may have trouble understanding this part of me. (And, as such, it meant those relationships may change.) It meant I needed to find out where I fit into the LQBTQIA+ community. Was I meant to be a stronger voice in my workplace, in my community, or in a church about gay rights? Was I meant to join an organization? Or perhaps none of that. The HR consulting firms London can help explain the importance of equal rights in the workplace. It’s wise to seek advice on an employer’s gender bias before coming out. Perhaps I was simply meant to be myself, be open about who I am, and encourage others to do the same.
I was so happy to be at Pride this year. It was my first time and it won’t be my last. I was happy to be surrounded by so much queerness and gay love. I felt excited to be there in a rainbow tutu with Pride temporary tattoos dotting my arms and face. I felt like I was finally ready to not only accept my bisexuality but also make it a bigger part of who I am, no matter how uncomfortable it makes the people around me.
Eating Habits & Being a Slow Eater
All my life, I’ve been called a slow eater. Mainly, this came from my dad and brother who were annoyed at having to sit through meal after meal with me.
A week ago, I was at dinner with Bri. I ordered mac and cheese and Brussels sprouts (#balanced) and ate maybe half of each. She asked if I didn’t like my meal and I said I liked it just fine, but that I had eaten as much as I wanted and I was finished. She commended me, saying how she’ll just eat and eat until she’s too full to move. And for the first time, I didn’t feel shame about my weird eating habits.
I am a super slow eater and I rarely eat big portions. When I eat, I will take a bite of food, put down my utensil, and then fully chew and swallow my food before I pick up my fork or spoon again. I’m not saying this to brag because it’s a fully subconscious activity on my part. I don’t think about it. It’s just the way I eat. Maybe it’s due to having a small mouth and an intense gag reflex—I have to eat smaller portions to make sure I don’t gag on my food. (Am I a baby?!) But it also means I am being more cognizant of my fullness levels, and when I reach it, I am done. And that means I am never a member of the “clean your plate” club.
You’d think this would be a good thing, but it actually makes me feel very self-conscious. I hate when a waiter asks if I didn’t enjoy a meal because I didn’t eat the whole thing or even most of the whole thing. And then when they ask if I want a box, I’ll always say yes even if I know I will be throwing that box right in the trash when I get home. (#enneagram9 behavior) I want to be someone who enjoys food as much as the people around me, but I typically eat enough to feel satisfied that I’ve nourished myself and then I’m done.
And I’m not even one of those “food is fuel” sorts of people. I enjoy food. I think about it constantly. I look forward to a good meal. I just eat less of it than other people for the most part.
I’ve always hated eating with other people. Part of it is that I’m an extremely picky eater and I’m always worried that I won’t be able to find something to eat at a particular restaurant or someone will offer to make dinner and they’ll make something I can’t eat. The other part is that I don’t eat a lot in one sitting. (I feel the need to keep stressing that I’m not bragging about this; it feels more like a curse than a blessing. As you can plainly tell from this post, I wish I was someone who could eat a lot!) So then I feel bad that I didn’t eat as much as I “should” have if someone made me dinner, or that I’m wasting their money if they have offered to pick up the tab. (If I’m paying for my own meal, I don’t care if I’m leaving most of the meal on my plate, but I feel terrible if someone else is paying.)
You’d think that someone who isn’t a foodie and doesn’t eat large portions of food would be straight-sized, wouldn’t you? I think there are a few reasons why I’ve still managed to gain weight even with my slow-eating tendencies:
- I’m not eating nourishing foods. I’m eating pizza many times a week. I’m consuming lots of sugar and soda and fried foods. I may not eat big portions of them, but it means I’m taking in less fruits and vegetables.
- I have tried to become someone who isn’t a slow eater. I feel self-conscious about it so I pretend that I want to clean my whole plate and eat far beyond what’s comfortable to me.
- My eyes are always bigger than my stomach. If a friend suggests ice cream, I will always say yes and then get a big scoop that is way too much for me, but I’ll finish it because I don’t want to a) make a friend feel weird about eating their entire portion and b) encourage lots of questions as to why I’m not finishing my food.
I also realize that the way we eat can be a very fraught topic because of eating disorders. We all bring our own biases into food—those who have struggled with eating disorders may just want to ensure I am not engaging in disordered eating patterns. Those who are trying to heal from disordered eating may feel self-conscious about their eating habits for an entirely different reason. I think the point I’m trying to make here is not that we should never make comments on the way people are eating, especially if it’s coming from a place of concern, but to a) never do it in a group setting at a dinner table and b) recognize that we all have different eating preferences and it’s okay if my way is much different than yours.
Ever since Bri mentioned how great it is to eat the way I do, I’ve been thinking about what it could mean to fully immerse myself in being a slow eater. Instead of feeling self-conscious about the way I eat, I can just accept that this is my preference. I’ve always gotten comments on my eating habits, which is always interesting because I don’t think we make the same comments when straight-size people eat big portions (or even small portions). But people do seem to feel like commenting on the way fat people eat is fair game. But that’s why I will keep eating or will order that dessert even when I’m full because I don’t want comments aimed in my direction. And maybe it’s time to finally meet those comments head-on. (A very scary thing for this non-confrontational gal to do.)
There is freedom, though, in eating the way you want to eat. No matter what that looks like or what other people will think of you. I found that freedom when I stopped dieting and now, again, when I realized that eating the way I eat (very slowly, being a picky eater, and eating half of what’s on my plate) is okay.
Are you a slow eater?
Ask Stephany Anything, Round 4
Remember “Ask Stephany Anything”? I love doing this series during NaBloPoMo in November because it gives me a great weekly blog post idea. I did a few ASA posts during NaBloPoMo, but then got busy with my cruise and Christmas and end-of-year posts. I still have a few lingering questions from my form (and the blog post where I asked for questions), so I’m going to keep this series going for as long as I have questions. If you have a question for me, feel free to ask it in the comments or fill out my form!
From San: Would you ever consider leaving Florida and live in a different state?
I would love to leave Florida! I have lived here my entire life and I think it would be really special to live somewhere that experiences all four seasons. However, I’d need their winters to be mild, which is why North Carolina tends to be the place I’m most interested in living if I ever left Florida.
However, the thought of moving to a different state all by myself is terrifying! It would be really difficult to have to create a new support system and new routines in a different state. I struggle with change just moving from one apartment to another in my same city and moving to an entirely new state where I don’t know anyone would be hugely difficult for my anxiety disorder. So, I don’t see myself leaving Florida unless things changed drastically in my life.
From Suzanne: Would you tell us more about your blogging editorial calendar? How do you decide what to write and when? How long do you spend writing/blogging each day?
My blogging editorial calendar is not fancy. I simply use Google Calendar to plan out what I want to write each month. And truthfully, I’m only really planning out my Wednesday posts since I typically use Mondays for “What I’m Reading” posts and Fridays for TGIF or Five for Friday. Here’s what February looks like for me (just ignore all my actual plans, lol. The blog posts have a pink background):
As you can see, I have a placeholder for “What I’m Reading” every Monday. Typically, midway through the prior week, I’ll make a decision if I think I’ll be able to have three books ready to review by the weekend. If not, I’ll either remove “What I’m Reading” from that week’s planned posts or flip-flop Monday’s and Wednesday’s posts (if I think I’ll have three books ready by Tuesday). I like using Google Calendar because I can easily remove or move around blog posts. (For example, the “All About My Laundry” blog post has been moving around since October. I just know it’s going to take a bit of effort to write that post, and I haven’t had the time!)
How I decide what to write about varies! I keep a running list in my Notes app with blog ideas and will throw an idea on that list when inspiration strikes. (I think 95% of the ideas I get come from podcasts, ha.) Near the end of the previous month, I’ll sit down and plan out my blog posts (well, as I said above, plan out my Wednesday blog posts). Most times, I have enough ideas to see me through the month. I also have some recurring series that I cycle through that keep things interesting, like Snapshot of My Day, Three Things Thursday, Currently, Virtual Coffee Date, etc. If I run out of ideas, I’ll just throw one of those into my schedule.
Now, the real fun comes when I sit down to write. It usually takes me upwards of two hours to write a blog post (between writing it, sourcing pictures, editing it, etc). Not every blog post takes me that long. I can usually write a “What I’m Reading” post and a Friday post in under an hour. But more in-depth posts (like this one) will take longer. It’s usually because I’m not only writing, but figuring out how I want to structure the post. Do I want to break things out into different headings? Do I want it to be stream of consciousness? Should I start with this section, or this other section that I wrote later? I also spend a lot of time rereading and rewriting (you don’t even want to know how many times I’ve reread and rewrote my answer to this question!) I know I spend too much time thinking about these things, but I love the writing process and I love being precious about the writing I do on this blog. It’s just who I am.
I’m trying to get better at writing shorter posts. Not every blog post needs to be 1,000+ words and brilliant. Sometimes, a quick 400-word post that captures a small moment in time is enough. But it’s hard. I love to write, and I love to write long posts.
From Anonymous: I love name stories, so: how did the animal friends in your life get their names? And how’d you get your name? How do you feel about your name?
I really wish I had better stories for how I named my cats. When I decided I was going to adopt a cat, I started a name list in my phone. I had a long list of names I loved for cats, most of them human names because I love human names for pets! When I adopted Eloise, I spent a few days trying to pin down the perfect name for her. I had settled on Eloise or Freya and called her by both names to see which one fit better. In the end, she seemed more of an Eloise than a Freya. I have always loved the name Eloise because it’s so sweet and delicate. She mostly goes by Ellie, though, and she’s definitely an Ellie. I gave her the middle name of “Joy” because I adopted her during the holiday season, the most joyous time of the year!
About a week or two before I adopted Lila, I was at my mom’s Super Bowl party and my cousin was talking about the twins she had given birth to in October. (She was a surrogate for a friend.) One of the twins was named Lila and my eyes just lit up at that name. I thought Lila was such a pretty name and would be the perfect name for a cat! So that name was in the back of my mind when I went to the animal shelter to look at the cats. And there she was. The shelter had given her the name Lola and it felt like divine intervention. Just one letter off from the name I wanted to name my next cat? And she was totally a Lila, too. I gave her the middle name “May” since she has a May birthday.
Chip and Lucy were named by my mom, of course. She chose “Chip” because she loves chocolate chip cookies. He goes by Chip, Chippy, Chippy Boy, Chipper, and Chip-a-Dee-Do-Da. Lucy was chosen because she just liked the name. We were actually deciding between Lucy and Barbara, which was my grandma’s name. Wouldn’t Barbara be such a cute name for a teeny-weeny dachshund? Ahh! However, I was really pushing my mom to name her Peppermint Patty (since my mom loves York Peppermint Patties!), but she’s definitely more of a Lucy than a Patty. Lucy goes by Lucy, Luce, Lucy-Goosey, Goosey, Goose, and Lucy Girl.
As for my name, my dad originally wanted to name me Doogabock, which was a name he invented (and became my nickname for most of my childhood). My mom instead chose the name Stephanie (it was the 80s, after all) and wanted to make it look different, so she chose the unique spelling of Stephany. I hated my unique spelling growing up because it meant I could never get anything from those personalized kiosks that were popular in the 90s, but now I really love it! I like the unique spelling and I feel like the name fits me.
Do you know the origin story of your name?
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