A Return to The Page

A year has gone by since my last blog post. It wasn't the nicest thing I had ever written, but it was my Truth at the time and I needed to say it. I don't regret it, and it's linked right there if you want to read it. This is not an apology for that piece. this is simply...an explanation of a transition. 

A lot has happened in the last year. Because of my family, my therapist, and my dozens of friends, I have managed to almost completely heal from a heartbreaking end of a relationship, which is HUGE, and not something to discuss here. (Most of you have heard it all already...that I am actually apologizing for. So boring.) 

But also in the last year, I've started writing my book, I've managed job woes and real-life adult responsibilities, I've tackled some tough medical challenges, I've done a few shows, and as we are currently in a touchy political climate, I have found my voice and haven't shut up. (Definitely not sorry about that. #BlackLivesMatter) 

Friends have come, and some friends I considered to be my closest are no longer in my circle. I feel like our generation gets shoved out to a stormy sea in a flat bottomed boat with a bucket, a rain jacket and the wish of "good luck, and Godspeed!" and that's about it. We navigate life and relationships with very basic tools, the tides ebb and flow, and somehow, we manage to stay afloat. 

I turned 29. I am far less panicky about 30 than I was when I was turning 28. I've considered lying about my age, but it catches up to you pretty quickly. I've avoided the existential crisis of "What have/haven't I accomplished that I said I wanted to do before I was 30?" Because times, and the culture, have changed. We (millennials) aren't getting married younger, we are waiting to have kids, or we've decided to skip that altogether. We want cats, dogs, careers, adventures...all things we could have while in a committed marriage relationship, but we've seen so many fail that we just give up. or decide to Try Less Hard. But that's a different topic too. 

In January I went to New York to visit the Atlantic Acting School. Atlantic was founded by David Mamet and William H. Macy. As I walked through Chelsea, the cold air hitting my face, I felt nervous, but there was a familiar feeling in the air-anticipation of investing my time into my craft. Even just for a night. I walked into the building, got a security clearance and shared the elevator with a young actor who was headed up to Atlantic for a first read through. He asked if I was involved in the project, and I said no, that I was just visiting. He told me he loved Atlantic and hoped I would consider applying. The open house was amazing...we had an info session with the executive director who was also one of the founding members. We had an improv workshop which was far less scary than I had expected, and then we had an on-camera audition workshop. I wasn't that great, but that solidified my belief that I need on-camera training ASAP. As I talked to the admissions director while simultaneously shoving expensive New York cheese into my mouth, I realized how much that room felt like Home. Creativity, talent, promise, experience...pictures on the walls of TONS of actors we know and love that studied there. I talked to one of the girls on my way out, and told her I was torn. Do I uproot my comfortable life and my big girl job that provides me with health insurance that I need to survive and move to the city to follow my dream? She looked at me and said, "It sounds like you already know what you want to do." She smiled, said goodbye, and disappeared into the night. I cried as I passed the Chelsea Market, imagining coffee breaks with my new Atlantic family. Picturing our pre-showcase ritual knowing that agents would be in the audience to watch our hard work; thinking about our final project of forming a theatre company...exactly how Atlantic Acting School was born. "Yes. This is what I want. This is My Thing. This is My Dream."

It's been 8 months since that trip. and I haven't started the application. Fear is holding me back and I've acknowledged it. I'll do something about it...each time I think of that night my heart aches for that familiarity again. 

But this isn't about that either! (But it kind of is because look at how much I loved it!) 

This is about transitions. And being ok with sitting in them. Look around at where you are. If you're having a Good Life right now or an Ok Life, or a Sad Life, acknowledge it. Allow yourself to be vulnerable in that spot. it's hard....it's so so so difficult, and sometimes it hurts. And that's ok too! As cliche as this sounds, growth and progress and transitions happen in the Dark Times.

How do you get through the Dark Times?

1. Develop a plan. Have friends that you trust keep you accountable. Strength in numbers!

2. Have a healthy outlet for releasing the tension. I had my first massage this summer and I went directly to therapy afterwards. The release of physical tension allowed my brain to be clearer and helped me to be more vulnerable that day to my therapist. 

3. Cut out the negative. Surround yourself with likeminded people that you trust. 

4. Intentionally make time for things that make you happy. Go out on a Friday. Stay in on Saturday. Brunch on Sunday. Doing chores, visiting friends, cooking. Whatever your "thing" is, schedule a time for you to do it. Your brain knows that you enjoy those things and it releases endorphins and those cheer you up. (I learned that from Legally Blonde. Thanks, Elle Woods/Reese Witherspoon)

5. Love yourself for exactly who you are. Tell yourself your Truths in the mirror. You are strong. You are beautiful/handsome. You are unique. Write them down. Repeat. 

Some of these might be helpful. Some of them might not be helpful. These are very simply based on my experience the last year of my life. I want to share them with you, in hopes that I can get back to being authentic through my writing. 

It's been a long year, y'all, but I have a lot of faith. There's a lot of work to be done, that I'll write about later, but I know we're gonna be alright. After all, we have each other. 

Shine Bright. 

-s. 

Welcome Back! [Welcome to My Life in Lancaster!]

Welcome back everyone! I've reinstated my blog now that I have found a full time job. Today I'm writing about transitions, and My Life in Lancaster. (That sounds like a great book title...) This one is a little long, but I have months of life to catch you up on, with a good resolution at the end. Join me, and stick with me during this new chapter! Love you all!

-S.

Transitions are hard.

Whether you’re starting the next level of your schooling, a new career, or a new chapter of your life, it’s hard to deny--change is tough.

I have always had an immense amount of pride in my ability to handle change. My top StrengthsFinder is Adaptability...I go with the flow, and whisper that first part of the Serenity Prayer. You know, “God grant  me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change…” If I were brave enough, I’d tattoo it on the back of my hand as a constant reminder.

But recently I’ve come to realize that “change” and “a time of transition” aren’t always the same thing. We often use them interchangeably, and this of course varies for everyone…my definition of “change” is something that happens unexpectedly and throws off my routine or balance. And my definition of “a time of transition” is something that has been anticipated.

This new chapter that I’ve started is undeniably a life change, but it’s more of a transition. I have been anticipating moving to Lancaster for 5 years. It was the summer of 2010 when I made my first long-term visit. I stayed for a week with Liesl and we had our inaugural year of kids theatre camp. I met so many people who have influenced the woman I am now and I will never forget that. Each year since then, I’ve made the trek back and forth for various reasons, and about 6 months before I got engaged I knew that I had to spend my engagement in the city of Lancaster.

That didn’t happen. Instead I had to deal with change. He moved, I stayed. I was plagued by crippling panic attacks for weeks after he left. I shoved the idea of moving to Lancaster out of my head and tried to tread water for as long as I could. 6 months later, our engagement ended, and a friend who knows absolutely everything about me looked at me and said, “you should move in with me. It could just be the change that you need.”

I said a bold "yes." Forgetting that my bank account had barely enough money for a shopping spree let alone rent and a security deposit.

In June, we found a place.

In August, I moved in.

And here we are, September 15, 2015. I've been here exactly one month, and I have not stopped to breathe. And I don't regret it at all! I'm doing audience services for PRiMA Theatre, which was the best leap of faith I could have taken. I've transitioned from working part time in a theatre (Shout out to my State Theatre family! I miss you guys!) to working full time in a boutique as a stylist (getting paid to suggest clothes to people? Absofreakinglutely up my alley.) And this time next week, I will have started training at my new full-time job at the American Music Theatre as a box office associate! A job in my field that I LOVE and that I'm darn good at too!

I have had one day "off" since August 15th, and honestly, as someone who has [regrettably] taken pride in being a bit of a slacker, I'm enjoying stretching myself thin. (Although I'm exhausted beyond words.)

But sometimes being busy is an excuse to not focus on the hard parts of transitioning.

In the last two months, I've had my heart broken, I've had to wrestle with issues of race in the outside world and where/if I fit into those hard conversations, I've been misjudged, argued with, and have argued with myself about my own intentions, convictions and integrity. All of these things are hard to deal with. And then add moving on top of them! I was a mess! I still am. And that's okay.

Admitting that you're a mess (yes, YOU), is the first step to recognizing where you are in life. My roommate has this little window decoration that says "Your beautifully messy complicated story matters. (tell it.)" and I'm pretty sure that's become our motto over the last few years. It's ok to feel lost. It's ok to not know what's coming up even if you have it seemingly altogether. Even though I might seem "set" career wise for now, I'm anticipating more changes and transitions coming up. Because that's the way life works. 

You can't avoid change, you can only react to it the healthiest way you can. Maybe for you that means having someone "on call" who you can vent to--a friend, mentor, or therapist. Maybe that means a visit home to see your mom and have her make you a good home-cooked meal. Maybe that means going on a dating hiatus and figuring out yourself. Maybe (UGH) it means deactivating Facebook and digging into the Bible or a good book study. Maybe it means getting a dog or a cat!

Figuring out what you need to do to keep yourself intact is the only way to survive transitions. Everyone copes differently, but I'm confident that you cannot and should not do it alone. I have my Council of women who I can go to whenever life gets scary. And as weird as it might seem, I'm finally seeing that my mom is one of them. Your mom is less intimidating once you get into your 20s. Trust me.

Having people who know you and that you trust is essential, and super helpful. I'm thankful for all those people in my life; without them I would have drowned in an ocean of uncertainty. Everyone's story is different, and that's what keeps the world so beautiful. We connect over the mess, over someone saying "you too?? I thought it was just me!" Be vulnerable. Surround yourself with like-minded people. 

So, all that to say: change is hard. But it's inevitable. Deal with it the best way you know how.

If nothing else I've written sticks, remember this:

Your story, changes and transitions are important. They're messy, but that's ok. So are everyone else's. They matter, but more importantly, you matter.

Hold on, everyone. We are all in for one heck of a ride!

-S.

A Quick Update

Happy Monday, everyone! 

I'm wiped OUT from this weekend's XStream youth winter retreat. We had a great time at Pocono Plateau with two other local churches. The snow was gorgeous, the food was good, and a lot of great connections were made. Unfortunately around 5 AM Sunday, a nasty stomach bug befell one of the guy students. His fearless leader, who had been taking care of him, sent out a group text around 5 PM saying he had contracted it as well. Please say a prayer for David and Colin, and the rest of our team and students as a lot of us are sliding into midterms and can't really afford to get sick! 

While I'd love to take this time to talk about how amazing the weekend was, this post isn't about XStream. It is however, about my relationship with Lando.

In December, Lando and I decided that it was best that we postpone the wedding. I don't really remember a clear reason why, other than the obvious fact that something was "off." Several weeks and insane arguments later, I knew that something had to change. After seeking wise counsel, and a few awkward encounters, I decided it was time to end our relationship. It truly wasn't a mutual decision, even though we have both painted it that way out of respect for what happened. We have decided to focus on other separate life opportunities (note: There are several things I want to do that would have kept us apart for our first year of marriage, and no one wants to do that...), and focus on strengthening our relationships with God. We are trying this whole "let's be friends" thing, and we  most definitely appreciate the support from our family and friends. 

Yes, it's hard, and it sucks, and it has probably shocked the pants off of you, but honestly, God has already blessed this decision. He's gone before us and we have willingly followed his path. It doesn't completely make sense yet, but it will. 

We are both willing to talk about this, so please don't shy away because you're afraid of saying something "wrong." We are still Star and Lando, even though we aren't StarAndLando anymore. It'll be good. It's already good. We are resting in the truth that we have an entire lifetime ahead of us, even if it's not a lifetime we share as husband and wife. 

We love you all, and look forward to having you continue this journey with us in this new way. 

Peace and Blessings

-S. 

"Year One: We Made It." or "An open letter to Lando."

Dear Lando,

Phew. We did it. I have so many emotions today, but the strangest one is probably the feeling of relief. Relief that we accomplished something. We accomplished staying together...and while some people would question the validity and authenticity of our relationship based on that statement, we know something that we've only shared with those closest to us: it has been a struggle that goes far beyond the distance aspect.

If I had a dollar for every time I doubted myself in this partnership...I'd have a lot of dollars. If I had a dollar for every time I doubted you in this partnership, I'd have zero dollars. Your tenacity and optimism is to be praised and admired. I wish I had a tenth of that...but then I realize that I have 100% of you for the days when when I'm feeling 0%.

A few nights ago, I was low. Low on hope, energy, and faith. My emotional storage was at it's brink, and there you were. You lifted me out of the darkness, as you've done so many times over the last 12 months. You emptied me of my hurt, and filled me with the knowledge that you support me, even if that means eventually enduring distance again. You believed in me...but more importantly, you believed in us. 

When we first embarked on this journey, we were strangers. I had always sworn I would never date someone until they were my friend for at least a year. I sat on the couch the night we made it official, and wondered what had happened. This wasn't a part of the plan. I only wanted a showmance. But God laughed and said, "Just kidding. But the waters will be rough. I have given you both enough strength to deal with the situation at hand."

Sometimes I wish our circumstance had been different. But then I remember how much we've grown as individuals and as a couple, even though we're miles apart. I think that's the reason 91.3 miles are between us. I needed to learn about myself. I needed to learn about you over a period of time. I always forget what foods you hate, but I'm sure that will come in time.

You have this quality about you that exudes natural friendship, and support. I challenge one person to name a time that they've felt abandoned or betrayed by you. I'm going to guess no one would be able to say that about you. You're Lando. In the words of Mo: "Errybody know Lando."
Your reputation precedes you, and is a constant reminder to me of the impact you have had on other peoples' lives. You inspire me to be the best version of myself, because in the end, that's all anybody can ask of me.

You know that you are not my better or other half, and I am not your better or other half. God created us as two fully formed beings. It just so happens that when we came together, we were able to supplement each others' already fully formed personalities. I think we balance each other out quite nicely: you help me come back down to reality, and I help pull you into a world that (at this moment) only exists only in our shared dream-space.  But it's more than just fantasies of big houses with multiple man/woman caves. It runs much deeper, but that, I think, I'll leave between us.

You aren't my better half, but you help me to be a better person. And that speaks volumes. Not only to you, but to what God has done in each of us during this journey. He's transformed our lives, and we both are beginning to see a clearer plan that he's laid out for us. Will it be easy? No. We're miles away, and it's going to take a lot of prayer and discernment and mentoring on both of our parts. But I have no doubt that more we delight in him, the more he will show us blessings and favor. (That's so preachy of me...but true!)

I look forward to growing with you, and seeing where this journey is going to take us next.

Love,
Starleisha.

(http://www.etsy.com/listing/119712173/to-love-another-person-is-to-see-the)

It's true.

Happy Friday! 

Yikes, I'm terrible at blogging lately, and I truly apologize. Between my boyfriend graduating, random roadtrips around the state, and getting sick, I've been busy, and sleeping a lot! But I'm back, and today I wanted to talk about something scary: Feminism. 

When I was younger, all I knew about feminism was that in the 70s these women probably didn't wear bras, and opened car doors themselves and declared their independence from the tyrant that is the male species. Had I ever met a feminist? No, of course not, don't be silly. I grew up in the church, and God forbid women be too independent. (To be fair, a lot of the women in my church were very independent of their husbands. but it's the principle of the matter.) 

Before I got to college, I had a friend at my church who went to the same school that I was headed to. She was a few years older than me so I was able to witness how MC affected her growth as a Christian and as a woman. Before she had gone to school, she said "I don't want to end up like the crazy feminists." Three years later, guess what she was: A semi-crazy feminist with alternate views on Christianity. I couldn't believe it. Not only did I feel completely left in the dust and betrayed, I was TERRIFIED that I would go to MC and end up like her. I decided to choose a major that wouldn't involve a lot of theology and social science classes: Music Education. And we all saw how that worked out. (I was in the program for HALF of a semester. Hated it. Different story.) I was determined to avoid my theology class for as long as humanly possible, and I finally realized that I wouldn't be taking too many classes that would force me to have an introspective look at being a female in a "male dominated world." So, in general, I think it's safe to say that I made it out of college fairly unscathed, and with some influences that showed me what true female independence was. 

Last year, I discovered Good Women Project, and I was blown away at this community of Christian women who struggled with sexual issues, dating, abuse, and feminism. At that point in my life I was focused more on the dating/who-should-I-marry articles, but the founder of GWP, Lauren Dubinsky Tweeted something that literally changed my life:

Feminism is what gives me the right  to be the woman that I am,  not the woman that other feminists wish I was or expect me to be. I sat and stared at my screen for a few seconds processing what I had just read. I broke it down into the two obvious parts: 1: "Feminism is what gives me the right to be the woman that I am."  I don't need to be the "type" of feminist who looks at her boyfriend and says "make your own damn sandwich," because that's not who I am as a person. If my boyfriend wants a sandwich, we're going to make that thing together. Because God made me, me Starleisha, as a collaborative being. I don't feel objectified when I'm hanging out in the kitchen, I actually feel empowered. I'm a good cook and I'm going to show off those skills. My boyfriend laid it out when we first started dating that he would NEVER expect me to make him food. That's fine. I'm ok with that. But I will offer, and that's cool too. And  that's what works for me. 2:"Not the woman that other feminists wish I was or expect me to be."  Also pretty simple. Online, I've encountered tweets that imply that people do feminism wrong. How is it doing it wrong if statement number 1. is the very core basis of feminism? Even though I know this to be true, I still struggle with it. Sometimes I think "Ugh, I can't be a good feminist because I still believe that the husband, to some extent, should be the spiritual leader of the household." But those negative thoughts just take up room in my brain where positive thoughts should be! If there are women out there who look at me and think I'm doing feminism wrong because I still like it when my boyfriend opens my car door, to them I say: Your lack of support for me is actually wrong. As Taylor Swift so famously quoted the even cooler Katie Couric: "There's a special place in Hell for women who don't help other women." For this topic, that's a bit of an extreme example, but I think it warrants some discussion. If feminists are to be about women's rights, we need to help each other, not put each other into this place of shame, and make each other feel that we can't express our views. I can be an independent woman and still enjoy it when my boyfriend sends me surprise flowers "just because." You can be independent and still not want anything extra from your boyfriend because you feel like it detracts from your feminist battle-cry. And that's ok! But let's not berate one another. For the longest time, I denied it. I denied even the teeniest ounce of feminism in me. I would even blatantly say anti-feminist statements on Twitter to try to cover up my unsure feelings about the whole subject. Some of it stemmed from the fear that I would someday emasculate the man I seriously dated. And you know, in the 90s, that might have been a legit fear, but there are so many men who are pro-feminist in the world today. I see my boyfriend as his own man, and, really, he's kind of pro-feminist too. Within our relationship, we've leveled the playing field. He cooks, I cook. I'm paying for my own movie today. No big deal. It doesn't mean that he's less of a man, and it doesn't mean I'm castrating his wallet. (Pause for that mental image...ok, continue). It's really ok. It's how we do things, and it works for us. So my Star-Based Feminism pep-talk to myself goes a little something like this: Enjoying being treated like a lady doesn't lessen my value as a woman. I can be independent and still enjoy hanging out in the kitchen.  The playing field is even, and my boyfriend and I should have an open dialogue to keep it that way. I am me, and you are you. Let's help each other. Let's support the different views of feminism. After all...isn't that what it's about?