Here We Are. Again.

The last 48 hours have been insane. I thought all day about emotional labor, and how people expect it; how it's hard and awful, and how I tend to give it freely. Because of those thoughts, it seems counterintuitive to write this post, but, clearly, it's necessary. Racism is heavy you guys. I don't talk about it to be divisive. I don't talk about it to be lauded as an expert. I don't talk about it to hear myself talk. I talk about it because if I don't, I become emotionally and physically ill. So here we are. Again.

Dear White Friends: You might read my posts, and assume that you know my tone, intention, or my heart. But you don't, and you won't until you ask me. And when/if you decide to ask me, come to me privately. Not because I have something to hide, but because that shows me you are ready to close your mouth and open your ears to hear my experiences and my stories. If your attitude is to come to me prepared to argue, that shows me that you aren't truly ready to listen. And I want you to know that that's okay. There's a learning curve. I've been on that journey my whole life. I'm still breaking down stereotypes and internalized assumptions I have about people of color or other marginalized groups. It's not easy. You will be uncomfortable. But at some point, this pathway is going to catch up to you, and someone who is less forgiving than me is going to confront you. And it's not going to be pretty. (See my last point below.)

Emotional labor is real. It's hard, and it's intense, and honestly, POC have been doing so much Work for people who have the internet at their fingertips. If you have a broad question, Google it. There are hundreds of articles on racial reconciliation. Those are good places to start. Those folks are worth your time, but also worth your money. We talk about the socio-economic divide between caucasians and POC. When I say "support a business that's owned by a person of color!" that isn't furthering the divide...it is literally a small way to close the economic gap that is so present in our communities. To suggest that it's divisive is ignorant at best. If you're worried about furthering the divide, do your part to close it, and support businesses owned by POC. It's pretty simple.

Really think about what you want to say or ask before you say or ask it. I know that's rich coming from me, possibly the most impulsive person you know...but it's so worth it. A good way to check this is to say: would I say this to or ask this of my black coworker/friend/cashier at the supermarket? If the answer is "no, I wouldn't," Google it. There's an answer out there on the internet, I promise.

Prepare to get educated. If you do say or ask something on a post from a POC, just know that we have an army of friends who will educate you. It's not going to be pretty. They'll probably be petty, and frustrated...and that's because this is the emotional labor that we do all. the. time. And for that same reason: Prepare to not have your questions answered right away.

If you've found any of this helpful, let me know. If you want to discuss any of this further, buy me coffee, or have me over for food, and we will chat. Most importantly, prepare to get uncomfortable, because that's where the real work starts.

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. 

To The People Back Home

For so many years I heard “you’re not really black.” “You’re the whitest black girl I know.” “You’re such an Oreo-White on the inside, Black on the outside!”

I laughed and went along with it for so many years. Because I felt it was true. And not because I hated the color of my skin, but because I didn’t know to be offended. You all expected me to be a certain way. After all my parents were white so how would I know what “being black” really was?

Being around you all shaped my own prejudices. For years, four years specifically, anytime a new black person came to our school I viewed them through YOUR lens. “Ghetto. Loud. Those earrings are so big, her clothes are too tight, doesn’t she know we don’t dress like that around here?”

There’s an image burned into my mind from Junior Year. It was the end of the day and everyone was heading to our lockers. Right in my pathway I saw a white guy and black girl screaming at each other. “SHUT UP YOU BITCH” he yelled. “GET OUT OF MY FACE.” She screamed back. “I’M GOING TO TEAR THOSE EARRINGS OUT OF YOUR EARS.” “GO AHEAD. DO IT.”

I swiftly walked past them but my heart was pounding out of my chest. He was rude. But so was she, right? She should have walked away, I decided. I gathered my things and went to the bus. Something didn’t sit right. I didn’t know why, but I was bothered by it.

Let’s back up. I lived 5 minutes from school, but I always rode the bus. Bus 25. Blanche was our driver, and a family friend. It was 7th grade and I had taken the bus home after school, but this particular day I had lugged my tenor sax with me. I was sitting on the bus and I can’t, for the life of me, remember how it started. But suddenly the boy two seats ahead of me was yelling. I’m sure I said something...I wish I could remember what. I know I asked him to please leave me alone. And he yelled at me. I said “Please, leave me alone. I just want to go home.” More foggy memories...then suddenly: “Ugh. I hate niggers. This is why I should start carrying a rope and chain with me to school.” I started to cry and when I got off the bus, I screamed. My sister had picked me up on our moped and I threw my jacket against it and screamed and sobbed. It took her and my mom to calm me down to get the full story. My mom immediately called the superintendent. He was on our side of course, and said there was no room for racist behavior and death threats. The boy was suspended from the bus and also got in school suspension for a day. He also was told to apologize. I don’t remember that, but I remember being terrified to ride the bus again. Shortly thereafter he started to drive to school and I was so thankful.

Senior year, two popular football players were sitting on the Senior Benches. I was walking from the office to class and suddenly I heard an all-too familiar, and very outdated tune.

“Is he whistling Dixie at me?” I furrowed my brow and chuckled. They looked at me, I stared right back and thought “You idiots. My parents are WHITE. My dad takes care of your animals. You know me.”

But they didn’t.

None of you did.

You thought you did, because I was friendly, and nice, and outgoing.

But you didn’t know the stories of how even I was treated by some of our classmates.

You didn’t know that I tried so hard to differentiate myself, and failed over and over again.

You didn’t know that when I called one of my friends a “cracker,” I didn’t know it was a negative term. But everyone who heard it was shocked, and one of you tattled. I felt awful. I almost cried in front of you.

I would never “be black.”

I would never “be white.”

I would always just be an Oreo.

Thankfully, my sister finally cleared something up for me. “What do you mean ‘act black?’ A color doesn’t act a certain way. You mean act/talk ‘urban.’” It struck me like a bolt of lightning. “Oh my gosh, YES. That’s what I mean!” She rolled her eyes at me, like all big sisters do and we went about our business.

But now, I’ve changed. Yes I’m still adopted and my family is still white. Yes I still shop at Target, and Gap and American Eagle. I listen to country music, and pop, and I’m a sucker for acoustic covers (what I’m listening to as I’m writing this.). My boyfriends have all been white.

I went to a very white private college. I am constantly self-conscious about dancing in clubs. (Like..really, I’m black AND a theatre person so where’s my rhythm when I’m just having fun??)

I struggled with singing a soulful slave tune in one of my dream shows this summer because in the back of my head I heard “You’re not really black. You’re not like Patina Miller, or Renee Elise Goldsberry, or Jasmine Ceaphas Jones UGH. You can’t do it. You’re not black enough.” And you know what? I freaking NAILED that song. I shut down the demons and I didn’t try to be like my favorite black actresses. I dug deep into my own darn soul and found Star and what she was going through, what so many minorities in our country are going through, and what our ancestors went through while trying to escape to freedom.

Escape. How do I escape? How do I escape your cop apologist posts? How do I escape you telling the world that you “don’t see color” because it’s not important? How do I escape you posting memes of “black people who listened to the police,” or “here’s a black celebrity going against the majority of his black peers,” or “here’s a successful black woman, be more quiet and unassuming like her.” It’s crap. It’s all crap, because you want these people to be flawless.

You want safe black people. Yet, you don’t want Michelle and Barack. I don’t know why, because they ARE successful, and I’m sure in the past they have been pulled over, and they do go against the majority of their black peers. I mean for heaven’s sake they’re the First Family, but God forbid you praise a black man becoming the Leader of the Free World. That’s too much, right?

You want relatable black people.

You want me to keep wearing clothes brands that you think are appropriate for me. I shop where you shop, so I’m safe. I like Panera, and going to fancy restaurants and pubs, so I’m not like “those other black people.” I don’t “talk urban” so you aren’t threatened to start a conversation with me. I chemically straightened my hair for 15 years, so it’s not “nappy and unprofessional” like those girls with braids and Senegalese twists at your jobs.

Oh, but I did just cut my hair, and really it has nothing to do with joining a movement, and it has everything to do with the fact that I look like a badass with short hair, but now you probably see me as unrelatable.

I danced for 3 hours in a club the other night with some friends, with other black and Latinxs, and white people, and mixed people and Natives, and this is probably never something you expected Star to do, so now she’s not safe. Not approachable, because she’s becoming too much like “those other black people.”

I post things that should be common sense, especially if you consider yourself pro-life (which I know a lot of you do.) Yes all lives matter. But guess what- I can say “Black Lives Matter” and still know in my heart that all life matters. But not all lives are threatened right now. But the people with my color skin? Whether you consider them to be safe or not, their lives are threatened and they MATTER. And I will continue to say it.

Someone recently asked me if a certain relationships are worth salvaging. I daily, hourly, minute-by-minute ask myself that as I’m scrolling through my newsfeed. Some of you are willing to dialogue, but the majority of you are not. Those relationships to me, are not worth my emotional energy.

And I don’t say that to offend you. That’s simply to show that as a black woman in America, I’m exhausted. I’m so tired. I can’t comment on every post, no matter how much I want to. Because I know 98% of you won’t answer back. You’ll say to yourself “Wow. She’s not the girl I remember from back home.” And you know, I’m not. I left. I grew. I gained more friends of all colors and cultures, and I LOVE it. I broadened my world and my circle, and I learned, sometimes painfully, how to dialogue with people who don’t look like me.

We all need to do this. If you truly want racism to disappear (which by the way it won’t), you need to leave your bubble. You need to travel, grow, gain more friends of all colors and cultures and broaden your world and your circle. Growth does not happen inside of your comfort zone, but I promise you the second you sit with someone you don’t feel is safe, you will grow and you will learn.

You need to teach your kids that their brown friends’ lives are as important as theirs. Teach them that God made people with different skin colors and that diversity a beautiful thing, not a hindrance! Teach them about African American, and black, and Latinxs, and Native history. If we don’t learn from our past, it’s going to repeat itself, and it’s already happening. You keep posting that you want change. You keep posting that you want to pray for change. But the only way to actively see change at a small level is to talk to your black friends. Talk to your minority friends. Meet them for coffee, and ask them how they are, and what their thoughts are on the events of this summer. But more importantly: listen to their answers. Take notes. Ask them how you can bring change into your home, church, and community. Ask them to join you in being the change you so desperately want to see.

We, as minorities, need your help. We want to dialogue. But we can’t if you aren’t willing to talk. Stop shutting down. It’s clear you have opinions. But maybe set them aside to hear the opinions of others and then talk about them.

I’m still Starleisha. My family is still white. I live in a city now, and not my parent’s farm, and I still don’t talk “urban.”

But I am no longer safe. I’m done being safe. I want change, and that’s dangerous, but I’m willing to go after it.

Join me?

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. 

XStream Talking Points/Blog Post: Lies I Believed In High School

We're doing a dating series in XStream right now. And for those of you who have been keeping up with my life, you probably know that this is a strange topic for me right now. (For those of you who don't know, I'll be happy to talk about it privately over coffee, or via carrier pigeon.) This is the last week of our series, and we are splitting the guys and girls up for the Group Talk. The girls are going to be talking about body image/identifying our worth in Christ/confidence etc...and the boys will be talking about the lies of pornography. It's going to be a heavy night, but I'm praying it will be worth it. (I know it will be!)

I'm sharing tonight on the lie that I still have a tendency to give into: the lie that I'm "too much" or "too intimidating" or "too loud." When I was in middle school, I was the girl screaming at the lunch table over nothing. I talked loudly because I liked the attention. But sometimes it felt like I was losing the attention I desired because I was loud. My mom always told tells me that my voice carries. I'm just a loud talker. And it wasn't until I was in college that I realized that being a loud talker/being a great projector, isn't going to make or break my life. In fact, projecting well, as an actress, is actually one of the best things for your career.

In high school, I was always told, "be mysterious. Boys like girls with a little mystery." Even now as a 26 year old, I'm furrowing my brow at that. What the heck does that mean? I guess now it means "Don't lay out all of your personal baggage on the first date." But what does it mean to a 15 year old? To me, it translates to "Don't be too loud. Don't burp like one of the guys. Don't talk loudly about sports if you don't really know what you're saying." (Side note: last week at XStream, Juliandra and I asked the girls to write down what they thought they could do to become more "datable." 98% of them said "learn more about sports.")
 Anyway, I don't in anyway intend to downplay this bit of advice from my mother, but I wish I had known to ask for clarification. I would try to "be mysterious" around the boys I had crushes on...talking quieter, not really answering their questions, etc..., but that's not who I am. I'm outgoing, and vibrant, and when I think "mystery," when it comes to a character trait, I picture some girl hiding behind a thick Mark Twain (J.K. Rowling? Who is popular these days...?) novel, and wearing long skirts, and avoiding eye contact with all humans. And that's not a bad thing if that is your true personality! But I think for a long time, I tried to be something I wasn't when it came to having "mystery." I'm not the type of girl who has the time to have people hem and haw over what I like, or what I might be interested in doing on a Friday night. If you want to hang, if you want to get to know me, let's communicate about that. I will say, "Hey, my name is Star and I'm un-apologetically outgoing and I will tell you everything you need to know about being my casual acquaintance, or friend." I understand and respect that not everyone is wired like that (97% of my friends are introverts), BUT, I am truly of the belief that if you aren't being true to your personality, you are not living up to the person God created you to be. So if "being mysterious" is something you're good at, rock it! If being outgoing is something you're good at, rock it!

Either way: 

Never let anyone tell you you're too "this" or too "that" 

as if it makes or breaks your entire life. 

It doesn't define you now, or ever.

The lie that we are too much comes from a place of insecurity. But it doesn't need to be a hindrance when we realize that we are made in the Image of God and and grasp onto the idea that our identity is found in Christ only. No exceptions. 

You might ask what this means or what this looks like and, honestly, I don't know if I have an answer other than this that fits every single person: "Women must think rightly about being representatives of God made in His image, and fulfilling his purposes" (Matt Chandler, Beautiful Design). Each one of us is made with a purpose that is more than being the prettiest girl in the room, or the most talented, or the most mysterious, or outgoing. What matters is that we are here to do God's work...to live the life he has set before us. Younger girls might not realize it now, but each one of us is called to a higher purpose..whether that's going into ministry, being an actress, or being a professional athlete- God will use us to His glory.

Who you were created to be is already accepted by God. Don't worry about being accepted by others. Who you are in Christ is "enough." You are never too over-exuberant, or too mysterious.  

You are enough. Don't let anyone try to convince you that you need to change that.

An Open Letter: When you take out the "Unity" in "Community"....

...You're left with "Comm" and that doesn't make sense. 
But unfortunately, someone took the "unity" out of community, and it's left me upset, hurt, and fearful. This post could get me into trouble, but to be honest, if I don't write it, I could say these things out loud and it would be far worse. So this is my open letter. (Disclaimer: Please don't consider this a direct call-out. Consider it an observation from the most observational person you know.) 

Dear...well, everyone,
Happy Tuesday and Merry Christmas! I hope your shopping is "wrapping" up and you're getting ready to spend time with family! The last week has been a good one for me. I got to see someone I love portray a very hard role onstage! My boyfriend was cast as George Bailey in "It's A Wonderful Life" and it was so amazing to see him in his first lead! We all know he's talented but this brought it to a whole new level. I'm so proud of him, and the rest of the cast was also really good. But to be fair, I'm a little biased.

What also impressed me about this production was the lack of people who I know love my boyfriend who weren't at the show. I know I shouldn't take it personally, but I'm taking it personally. Guilt trip: You missed a fantastic show, and I sincerely hope you're sad about that. In my clearly non-professional opinion, nothing about this show was unbalanced, or lacking, which is highly impressive.

A Few Questions: #1-Did you not see the show because you HATE feel-good plays? If yes, then you're excused. I don't understand it, but you're excused just the same. #2-Did you not see the show because someone did you dirty? If your answer is yes keep reading. If it's no, I'm giving you the chance to jump ship now.

Over the last few months, I've noticed a considerable amount of tension between adults. I'm just a kid, but nothing gets by kids very easily. There's been disrespect among people in the same profession who claim to be working towards the same goal: bringing people together in the name of theatre. Which, I personally think is an AMAZING thing. Now, I know there are a lot of things I don't know, or won't understand, and frankly, I don't care to know them or understand them. But I do care about people, and that's something that, to me, is far more valuable then ticket sales.
Theatre can't exist without people. But people won't come to the theatre if their expectations aren't met and superseded pre-production, during production, and as the cast is giving their final bow. I know of people who have quit theatre altogether because someone who was in a position of power said something that rubbed them the wrong way. As someone who wants to make a career out of theatre, I say, not cool, man. Not cool.

There's nothing more discouraging to me, a petite kid with big dreams, than hearing and seeing that there is no support or respect for fellow theatre practitioners.
I'm not suggesting that we all have to sit around a campfire, hold hands and sing "You'll Never Walk Alone," but as much as I LOATHE that song, I think the reminder in there is vital. We are never alone, and in theatre, there should be a whole different realm of support. If you love theatre, and truly want to bring it to the masses, causing dissonance within your company should NEVER be an option.

I honestly don't want to live or work in a world of theatre where I will someday have to tell my children that I ended my career because sometimes people don't play nice with others. I want to lead a life that my kids can look at and say, "Wow..she used everything for God's glory, and didn't have to sell out to be happy."
I want to promote the performing arts for all kids of younger generations, and I have a hard time doing that if I know deep down that there are issues that make me uncomfortable.

So this year, my Christmas prayer is that all issues get sorted out in a professional and friendly manner in this new year. I want my friends and I to feel free to travel between venues and companies without feeling like we're betraying one another. I pray that we can all put the "unity" back into "Community Theatre."

God Bless, and Merry Christmas!
Love,
-S.

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?

Cats vs. Men: The Great Debate

Cats or men? I like men. I also like cats. But being a cat lady was never appealing to me. Even when I was single. These thoughts are exclusively my own. Comments/discussion is always welcome. 

Lately, (always), I've been seeing girls talking on social media about being alone, being betrayed by a guy or becoming a cat lady in the future (most recently 15 Reasons Why Having A Cat Is Better Than Having A Boyfriend). Honestly, I think that is silly.
Now, I know everyone has a story, and I love and respect that so much! I love that there are girls who are focusing on their careers, or other pursuits, and feel that single is the way to go. Relationships aren't for everyone, and value and self-worth don't come from being linked with someone. I love reading dialogue about being your own person, and how the person you will marry won't "complete" you or be your "other half." It's so cool to see so much positive growth and learning in single ladies that I love and/or look up to.

That being said: I hate feeling guilty about being in a relationship. Now, I know what you're thinking: "Well Star, it sounds like you should examine your blah blah blah priorities, blah blah blah, guilt complex, blah blah blah." 
I see that attempt at rationalization and I raise you this: I am one of the least guilt-ridden people you will ever meet. So, it's not that. I just...feel bad that not everyone is happy. Once again, I know true happiness doesn't come from being with someone in a romantic relationship. But I see so much hopelessness from a lot of single girls, and in my gut I just feel...guilty. I never would have guessed that this type of guilt existed in relationships. So, a note to the single girls, you aren't the only ones affected by your feelings when you are single.
Anyway.
I love cats! But when I see articles like the one above, (especially #9: my boyfriend is the LEAST distracting person in the world), I just want to say, "I have a boyfriend, but I love Cricket and Tater-Tot too, and they're my favorite cats EVER!"
I don't say it enough, but I appreciate and I'm incredibly proud of the man I'm in a relationship with. He accepts me for who I am, and we balance each other out very well. He's a hard worker, incredibly motivated, and graduating with dual degrees this weekend. Pretty sure Tater-Tot is just good at swatting at my behind when I walk through the door. Score 1 for the boyfriend.
I don't know...maybe I'm making too big of a deal out of the cat thing...

I'm pretty sure I was doing the whole "thank GOD I'm single" thing about 14 months ago, so I'm not faulting these girls at all. I just wish there was a way to say: "Hey...being in a relationship is not totally bad, so let's just try to avoid generalizing and stereotyping." I would never, ever consciously post something on social media that said "Girls who are single are that way because [fill in the blank]" or something to purposefully bring up negative feelings in others. And if I do, please tell me. {Note: I blog about my relationship because it's a part of my life. I really try not to brag. I promise.}

I don't value someone based on their relationship status. I care about them as people, right where they are, no matter what's going on, and I support them in the expression of their feelings. But I think that we do ourselves a great disservice by assuming how our lives are going to end up. Positive thinking yields positive results. Negative thinking yields negative results. Whether you believe it or not, God and you have great control over what path(s) your life will take.
Additionally, out of all the threats I see about being cat ladies, I see a lot of the same girls post about good, healthy relationships, whether they are romantic relationships or deep friendships. The good news is, you can have it both ways!
Cats are great, and so are real human relationships. In fact, you can learn a lot about humans from cats (and/or most animals), and vice versa.  No matter how furry, annoying, or distracting, neither should be neglected. They should be nurtured, and cared for, and loved unconditionally. Right where they are: if they're on the couch next to you watching ESPN, or sitting on your desk giving you an adorable face.
I'll let you decide which is the cat and which is the boy.

PS: Here are pictures of my cats. Cricket is the grey one, and Tator-Tot  They are cute.