Author: Elise

Note to Self: You are Valuable.

Posted on by Elise Note to Self

I was never asked to a dance in high school. Looking back, it’s definitely not a big deal. But then it was. I remember watching my friends get asked to dances and wondering if anyone would ever ask me. One dance, Homecoming maybe, I remember sitting at the computer near our front door the night before. Just in case someone decided to ask last minute. The phone rang, my parents told me it was for me, there was a male voice on the other end of the line who said “Elise. This is Harry Potter. Please stop being so obsessed with me.” Click. Needless to say, I didn’t get asked to Homecoming at the last minute. (I also didn’t stop my Harry Potter obsession.)

Like I said, in retrospect, those dances weren’t a big deal. I turned out pretty alright even without a pretty prom dress. But if I could go back in time and hang out with 17 year old me on the night of the dance, I’d bring her a giant bag of caramel kisses and we’d have a heart-to-heart where I’d hopefully convince her a little bit earlier in life that her worth wasn’t defined by how many boy’s choice dances she was asked to.

That’s the cool thing about perspective, looking back, you understand a lot more than you did in the situation. I like to go back and read my high school journals sometimes. I’ve learned to skip over the pointless pages of American Idol updates (although it is kind of fun to remember how many times I managed to vote for Clay Aiken and Carmen Rasmussen in a single night.) My favorite pages are the ones where I was convinced that I was “in love” with so-and-so for whatever reason it was that day. It would be embarrassing to admit how many last names I’ve sampled my first name with. (In gel pen, naturally.)

I’ve come to love writing an awful lot. I also like to think I’ve become a bit better at writing since my high school days. My notes app on my phone is full of half-completed blog posts and stressed-out word vomit sessions. I’ve also learned to write when I’m feeling happy or grateful, so that I can remember those things when I’m not feeling that way later on.

Anyway, here’s the point of this post.

Months ago, I went on a really good date. There actually wasn’t anything particularly special about it, mostly just that I had a good time, felt comfortable with my date, and felt some sense of potential. I try to begin and end dates with a prayer so, when I got back from this one, I was expressing gratitude for the date and felt like I should write what I was feeling. I pulled up my beloved notes app and wrote something that has been a real blessing to look back on since I wrote it:

“I think this is what hope feels like. A moment of believing that everything I’ve always dreamed of could actually come to be. I feel like spinning and screaming, the lights all seem brighter, I feel like every part of me is smiling. 


I also feel this fear of ‘what if I’m wrong?’ and ‘what if I get my hopes up only to get them crushed?’ But something tells me that no matter what happens, this feeling of bliss and hope and ‘maybe so’ has a lot more to do with truth – it doesn’t all rely on ‘what if yes’ or ‘what if no’. I am valuable not just because tonight I feel valued, but because I am.”

I actually feel really vulnerable sharing that note. Because, spoiler alert, not much more happened with that guy. And since nothing happened, it seems kind of silly that ‘every part of me was smiling’. But I’ve had this note on my mind all day and I’m kind of impressed by what I seem to have understood the night I wrote it. Today, as I’m writing this blog post, I am valuable. Even though nothing progressed the way I hoped it would when I was all twitterpated that night, that simple date taught me something that had always been true all along.

And it’s true for all of us. We are valuable. We have infinite worth that is not defined by whether or not we are going on dates, or our marital status, our employment/education status, or anything like that. That’s something that has taken me a long time to understand. And somehow, separating those things in my mind has made all the difference.

You’re Really Not the Only One

Posted on by Elise Note to Self
I have this conversation nearly every day: “Hey, Elise, how are you?” “I’m good! Busy, but good!” And the other day, as I said that, I realized just how monotonous it is. I seriously say that every time. And yeah, I’m totally busy. In fact, every night as I fall asleep I think “Does everyone else do fine with just 24 hours in a day? Maybe they’re not sleeping. Do people really get bored? Maybe they only sleep four hours a night?” and then I fall asleep before I can finish that conversation with myself. So, hey, I’m busy. And I’m stressed. And I’m never sure I’m doing enough. And ‘real life’ is tough.
And this is where I’ve lived mentally for the last year or so.
So, last Sunday, as I rattled off my “Busy, but good!” answer about my life, I followed it up with, “Maybe I should stop saying that. Maybe right now is normal and I should just embrace it and let this be normal and let more than this be ‘busy’.” And then within a matter of hours I was feeling overwhelmed about life again. That night, I went to the Christmas Devotional that the LDS church does every December (it’s a favorite) and all the talks were about the silent night when Christ was born and the peace that can come into our lives when we rely on the Savior and the promised blessings that come from His teachings and His life.
And I remembered that the message I have continuously received over the last year or so is this:

“Be Still”

So, I’ve been studying peace. And I could probably write novels about all the cool connections I’ve found and things I’ve learned (and probably, someday, I will) but I’ve also found some other cool things as I’ve read articles and talks about peace.
Everybody is seeking it.
Each article seems to have a story that goes like this: “There was a time in my life when I was struggling with (sin/loss of a loved one/divorce/heartache/medical challenges/etc.) and my life felt like it was in turmoil and everything seemed wrong and I didn’t know what to do and I had unanswered questions and I felt really alone.” And those are the stories that are used to illustrate peace.
I’m not finding stories about people who have lived a struggle-free life. I’m not finding stories about people who just have never had reason to worry about anything. And I’m definitely not finding stories about people who didn’t ever doubt or have questions. The more I blog and the more I open up about insecurities or questions on my blog, the more people I meet who say “I went through the same thing!”
I’m pretty sure this study of peace is going to be a lifetime thing. I kind of think that the blessings of peace come more from continuously learning than from mastering it. So, don’t expect me to be an expert any time soon. But here is something I definitely know: peace is available to everyone. Always. And some of that peace comes from realizing that you aren’t the only one. You’re not that “mistake” who has all the questions and the doubts, you’re one of us. And none of us are mistakes. We’re humans who are learning and I’m pretty sure the learning is the beautiful part. Opening up and letting others learn with you – that takes talent, because vulnerability sure likes to feel scary. But on the other side of that vulnerability is a life filled with peace.

 

silent battles

Posted on by Elise Miscellaneous

I’ve mentioned in recent blog posts that life has been hard for me lately. Honestly, it’s difficult to explain why it’s been hard because it’s a lot of things and it’s a lot of mental things. It’s dating, it’s work, it’s self-esteem, it’s acne, it’s growing up, it’s not wanting to grow up, it’s a whole lot of learning things about myself that I didn’t realize before, it’s failure, it’s overcoming weaknesses and discovering new ones, it’s healing, it’s holding on to hope, it’s letting go of things that need to be let go of… and that’s just the beginning.

When someone is diagnosed with cancer, that challenge has a label. It’s google-able and people have heard about it before. They may not understand what it’s like to go through that trial, but it’s something they’ve heard of before. When someone has cancer, you can post about that on Facebook and ask for help – and thank goodness for that! I’m grateful for the lives that have been blessed and the prayers that have been answered because we know how to ask for help when someone has cancer.

But that’s the thing. Sometimes we have trials that aren’t google-able. Sometimes there is no easy label for why life is hard. Or maybe it’s something private that you don’t actually want to talk about. I know some brave people who talk about their challenges with infertility. I think people who share their struggles with cancer are incredibly brave too. I also have learned that sometimes there are brave people fighting silent battles that they don’t understand, can’t label, or aren’t really prepared to open up about. Sometimes there are battles that are so innately internal that you really can’t tell people about them. And the more time I’ve spent thinking about this “silent battles” concept, the more I come to realize that a LOT of us are going through these times in life and maybe we don’t know what to do.

I feel weird telling people that life is challenging right now and not being able to really fully explain why. I tell some close friends/family a little bit, but there are so many deep factors to why life is hard for me right now and I don’t even understand half of them. So, hi, life is hard. I’ve got a whole lot going on inside of me and I’ve got no label to tell you why.

But I want people to know that my life is hard. I feel selfish just typing that. The phrase “misery loves company” comes to mind. But I think it’s much more than that. Honestly, I think sometimes we need to cry out and say “Hey! You people that care about me! I am not sure I’m okay right now and I need help.” Actually, I think we spend a lot of time crying out messages like that – I think our bodies know how to get that message out when we’re not ready to admit it. I’m sure you’ve seen lists of “signs of depression”. They’re filled with things like fatigue, over eating, under eating, insomnia, over sleeping… you get the point.

I think the world has taught us one giant lie that needs to be torn to bits and destroyed forever. That lie is this: “Asking for help is not okay/means I’m weak.” Perhaps it’s phrased differently in each of our minds. Any way you say it, it’s a lie. We were put here on earth with other compassionate humans for a reason. We can ask for help. We were born into family units with people who love and care deeply about us for a reason. We can ask for help. It’s OKAY to not be okay. It’s OKAY to let people know you have flaws. It’s OKAY to need help.

I let myself do this thing where I say “I’m fine, it’s okay, I’ve got this” for a long time until I’m crying in my car on the way home from work and it’s all I can do to think of something I might be able to eat without feeling like I’m going to vomit. I’m learning that I’m allowed to ask for help before I reach this point of desperation. I can tell someone I’m struggling before the tears come. I’m allowed to get support from friends and family any time I want. I’ve learned that all you have to do is ask. People LOVE you. They want to support you and help you be okay. We’re not here to work through all our challenges alone. It was never meant to be that way.

Ultimately, I’ve also been learning how to turn to the Savior. It’s okay to need Him. It’s okay to ask for divine help. In fact, we are promised “ask and ye shall receive”. He wants to run to us, to succor us, to heal us and bless us. I think I re-learn how much I need to rely on the Savior almost every day. In my favorite Holland talk of the day, Elder Holland says “When He says to the poor in spirit, “Come unto me,” He means He knows the way out and He knows the way up. He knows it because He has walked it. He knows the way because He is the way.” Up and out is exactly the way I feel like I need to go.

I also want you to know that I am okay. I have moments where I want to scream out and cry out and tell everyone that I’m not okay. Those are real. But I also have wonderful, blissful, joy-filled moments where I feel peace and I know that I am okay and that things are going to be okay and I know I’m on a beautiful path. I’m finding that there is a lot more joy in the struggle than I ever believed there could be. Slowly, I’m starting to realize that there is a lot to be learned from the hard times and even from making mistakes. I have to remind myself, but I think that deep down I actually do know that being vulnerable, taking chances, going off of gut feelings and moving forward (even moving forward feeling like you have little to no sense of direction) is a lot more like progress than staying safe in your comfort zone and not ever risking anything. And through all of the scary, vulnerable, not okay moments, it really is always going to be okay.

A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words

Posted on by Elise Creativity
A picture is worth a thousand words, yet somehow, without words, nobody could ever understand exactly what this picture means to me. 
[90] Most of the nails are not all the way in the board, but that rusty nail is the one that towers over them all. Welcome to my life as the tall girl with acne. When I took this picture, however, I focused on the rusty nail because it was beautiful. It stood out. It has tone and color and texture. It tells a story. And in its weathered, beaten state it still retains its metal core and holds strong. Perhaps, sometimes, we’re meant to be a little weathered and beaten. 
[81] Look at that focus, the clarity, the perspective, the lighting, the composition. Think of the training behind this picture: which lens to use, which f stop to choose, which angle to shoot from, where to focus, how to focus. Some of it is left to chance opportunity. How did I spot that nail? How did I happen to find it during such ideal lighting? I’ll let you run with the billions of life analogies that can come from photography on your own.
[84] The place where this photo was taken, Wheeler Farm, holds so much of my childhood. We often passed it on the way to my grandparent’s house, we’ve had family reunions there, I went on field trips there, and one time during an Easter egg hunt I got “lost” in the woods with my cousin, Ashley, and we found a mysterious plastic egg filled with a creamy white substance. (Let’s just say that shaving cream is less appetizing when you think you’re getting marshmallow cream.)
[150] The day this picture was taken was an incredibly happy day. It was a warm Sunday afternoon. Nothing but sunshine, the cute boy I was dating, a camera, and endless photo opportunities. For a while after that boy and I broke up, I couldn’t look at this picture. No matter how proud I was of the quality and beauty of the picture, it reminded me of a happy time that I wasn’t having anymore, because I attached that happy time to that boy. He was, of course, a big reason for that happiness. But, my happiness didn’t end because the relationship did. There is beauty in happy memories, in fresh starts, even in being single. With time and learning, this picture has come to represent hope. A wonderful boy loved me once and it wasn’t right. Someday, a wonderful boy will love me again. And someday it will be right. 
405 words.
Not even half of a thousand and not even half of what the picture means to me. 
Or what it means to you.
Maybe it speaks to you differently.
Maybe it doesn’t speak to you at all.
Isn’t it beautiful to know that somehow, even though we all have separate brains, life stories, experiences, and emotions; through images and words we can share and experience life through others?