Getting it

Do you ever say you’re going to do something and then notice that the universe seems to be holding you accountable to what you said you were going to do? All of the sudden you find yourself in those fight or flight situations.

There were three different times this week where I had to hear feedback from people about my weaknesses and every single time it more or less involved the use of my voice.

Say it. Don’t hold back. Figure it out. Say what you want. Be bold. Be brave. Be assertive. Fight for it. Don’t be so eager to please. Yeah, well thanks everyone for sharing your feedback, but all of that ^ is not in my nature. It makes me uncomfortable.It’s just not me. Sorry.

Oh. Damnit. You said you were going to be be fierce this year, remember? Right. Ok, maybe I should figure this out. Maybe there’s something here.

There is. Of course there is. While being outspoken and stubborn is not in my wheelhouse (I seriously doubt it ever will be), it isn’t because I don’t have opinions or want to share them. I know that I can improve on this without having to alter who I am as a person. I’m working on tailoring (or taylor-ing. baahaaha.) this to fit who I am. Being assertive requires a certain degree of confidence that I struggle to reach. And while I would say that I fit the stereotype of the girl who doesn’t know what she wants, I could argue that it’s less about uncertainty and more about having to actually think about it…and then get over the fear of being daring enough to say it. Because when you’re bold and brave with your words and it backfires, zipping the lip feels way more comfortable. I have a chronic fear of not being enough, you know? That sounds cliche and boo-hooey. I feel stupid even writing it. But it’s true. When it came to my most important relationship, I never felt like I could be or do enough. As if I was entered into a competition in which I was set up for failure from the start. When I used my voice, it didn’t make the difference I was hoping for. Maybe I was asking for too much, over reacting, or wanting something unrealistic. Maybe if my body were this, that, or the other thing, it would have worked. The liiiieeesss. The lies we tell ourselves. I don’t think I struggle with self image or confidence any more than the average woman, but from a distance looking back…I realise how much both of those things have taken a beating in the past few years and the fact that other people notice I’m holding back is a sign that something needs to change.

BUT I refuse to look for verbal or emotional affirmation from someone else. I’m going to take the high road. It’s going to come from knowing myself and He who makes me brave and gives me my worth. My growing and stretching capabilities will be on par with freaking Gumby. My body confidence level will be that of a Dove ad campaign. My mind to mouth connection will be as audacious as Mr. West. Work it harder, make it better, do it faster, makes us stronger. Take this, hataaaas. I’m done with hoping that someday I’ll be enough: successful enough, enough of a reason, desirable enough, fierce enough. Ew. Gross. What a stupid word. I’m just going to do away with it. Enough. It is time for some internal re-wiring. Rather than succumbing to an ounce of solo-mission blues, my first order of V-day business was to wear something that made me feel like a fox and dance around around my room to Motown. And it I was fierce awesome/beautiful/confident/happy/all those good things. Love, Taylor

Hey Soul Sister

Yesterday I was savoring a delicious breakfast in the company of these two lovelies. We were discussing workplace dynamics, conflict resolution, documentaries, progressive women’s movements, faith, etc. Ya know, the usual…

While sipping my coffee, I stopped to think about what my closest girlfriends do with their lives. I came up with the following:

Revitalizing neighborhoods, community building, leading people in worship, parenting, studying to be a midwife, assisting refugees with urban gardening and childcare employment, researching for child and welfare policy, coordinating volunteers, managing projects and events, serving people onboard aircrafts, teaching America’s youth, leading missional outreaches across the globe, helping homeless families transition into stable housing, campaign management for healthcare reform, and running their own small business.

You know, I think Jesus was spot on when he said that to be a leader you must first be a servant. These women are the most service-oriented people I know and that is one thing that makes them incredible leaders. The occupation part is just a glimpse. They also serve on committees, volunteer in churches, grow vegetables or knit scarves and give them away, teach yoga classes and mentor at-risk kids. THEN, on top of that, they also find time to bring me lunch when I’m sick, take me to the airport at ungodly hours, dance with me, remind me of my self-worth, defend me, let me get snot all over their shirt as I sob into it, accept my flaws and allow me to see theirs. They challenge me to see God in new ways, they inspire me with their intellect and passions and they bring me comfort with their presence (along with a million other tiny and big things).

In the last week some of these friends have told me:

-They were sexually harassed in workplace environment

-They attempted to lead a group at work and were immediately shut down

-They didn’t feel heard or that their voice mattered

Siiiiggghhh. I hate that.

And there’s nothing I can do to fix it or make it go away. I also hate that.

BUT, I just want to say:

Chin up, cookie.

You are courageous for being where you are and doing what you do.

You are lovable for making the world a better place with the work of your hands and the fruit of your spirit.

You are capable of leading one or one-hundred-thousand with your voice and your abilities.

You are valuable because you exist. And good Lord, am I thankful that you do.

Fight for a place at the table. Speak up. Make waves. Cause a ruckus. Practice your Wonder Woman stance.

Love,
Taylor

 

When Dad Meets Daughter

There is this cassette tape I have. If you listen to this cassette tape you will hear a recording of my birth.

If you’re wondering…yes, it does feel strange to listen to labor.

But I get over the strangeness quickly when I hear a voice say, “Hi Taylor. Hi little girl. I’m your Dad.”

I am listening to my dad speak his first words to me. We’re making introductions. My mind is blown as I imagine this; this moment before all the moments to come. In this moment the only thing my dad knows about me is that I’m 7 lbs, 8 oz. and 21 inches long. The only thing I know about him is the sound of his voice…a voice I will grow to recognize instantly; a voice that I will always love to hear.

In my tiniest form I am not yet aware that-

This is the voice that will sing ‘Once Upon a Dream’ while he spins me in his arms and then tosses me in the air before I land, giggling, on my mattress. Then he will pull out his guitar and sing ‘Forever Young’ by Bob Dylan a million times.

This is the voice that will whisper in my ear before the sun rises to wake me up for a special breakfast.

This is the voice that will make me feel safe.

This is the voice that will direct my sister and I in home-made short films such as ‘Misson Possible’ and ‘Maddyella’.

This is the voice that will read me epic adventure stories out loud, character voices included.

This is the voice that will make me cry when it’s raised.

This is the voice that will pray over me.

This is the voice that will tell me I’m lovely (even when I have missing teeth, thick glasses, and bangs that are far too short).

This is the voice that will ask me questions. Constantly.

This is the voice that will make me laugh until my sides ache.

This is the voice that will give wise advice when asked.

This is the voice that will cheer me on through successes and failures.

This is the voice that will appear in countless postcards, Bible margins and wax-sealed letters addressed to me.

This is the voice I will trust.

I will always love this voice.

Love,
Taylor

 

 

 

 

Self-Love Letter

Dear reader,

Love the person you’ve become because you fought to become her.

Say the positive things out loud. Use your voice. Let it ring in your ears.

Look at you!

Your spirit is bursting and beautiful. It is impacting. It is courageous. It is your essence and it’s the sexiest thing about you.

Your mind is unbelievably intricate. Just imagine all that it holds and how open it is to absorbing more and more and more. The thoughts you are capable of are astounding. The way your mind is wired is unique and fascinating.

Your body is incredible. It can bring life into the world. It’s a home for everything that makes up who you are. Woah! So, maybe society/media/mean people have helped you make a list of things that are “wrong” with it. My thighs touch. My cheekbones aren’t defined enough. I’m not thin or toned enough. My eyelashes aren’t long enough. My stomach isn’t flat enough. My butt isn’t big enough. I’m not tan enough. The double chin.  F*ck that. It works. It knows what it needs. It has strong parts and soft parts. Maybe you are decorated with freckles, scars that tell stories, and curves that you rock so hard sometimes they spill over your jeans. So, what? Say the positive things out loud. Hey you, you have a cute nose. Your hair is enviable. Your eyes sparkle. Your lips are alluring. If you’re the only one confident in that, be content because you are the only one in charge of believing it for the rest of your life.

Your heart is admirably full at all times. You know how to put it to good use. It is great, big, and beating.

Your voice is sweet and important. Use it wisely. What you have to say matters.

You are incredibly fortunate to be you. You will be one of your greatest discoveries.

Some parts of you will remain constant. Some parts will change. Hey, it’s a journey. Be kind to yourself. Do something that your future self will thank you for.

Love, Taylor