Growing up, Thanksgiving wasn’t really on my list of favorite holidays. I honestly don’t have too many memories of Thanksgivings, and it could be because Christmas has always been very important to my family. I’ve jokingly referred to Thanksgiving as “Christmas 0.5,” because my family didn’t have too many traditions that made Thanksgiving stand out—it was basically like Christmas a month before Christmas, without the great music and cookies and gifts. But the holiday changed for me when I began seeing Jake.
Earlier this year, I realized that the media I was consuming was having a greater effect on my self-perception that I’d like it to. Every platform was full of clutter that I just didn’t want floating around my life anymore. In particular, I noticed that this media impacted my body image.
Most little girls grow up seeing images of perfect girls and women on TV, in magazines, and now online. We’ve all probably heard an Oprah-esque talk show segment about how harmful these images can be to young people (let’s be real, it impacts all children, not just girls). We learn what we’re supposed to strive for from media. We have family and friends to mold that too, but media teaches us what people think beyond our circles. And that’s a lot to take in when you’re young.
It’s December 2013, and I’m sitting on the futon in my college apartment. My end-of-semester assignments are looming, and junior year is kicking my butt a little bit. I have a car, a bit of money to spare in my tiny student bank account, and something makes me say to myself, “I want to learn how to crochet.” So I drive to Walmart and buy one skein of Lion Brand Hometown USA and a hook.
So my crochet hobby didn’t exactly start in the most sentimental way. I didn’t learn from a maternal figure on a comfy couch with the smell of cookies baking in the next room. I learned from a YouTube video in an old apartment, all the while feeling guilt for all the schoolwork I wasn’t doing.
But it was this less-than-sentimental beginning that makes me want to share my story. Having this creative hobby changed my life.
When I graduated from college in 2015, I remember that one of my first thoughts was I’ll never have a summer break again. When you’ve been a student for nearly the first 22 years of your life, transitioning to working full-time year-round can be kind of daunting. Why is it that all the things that add up to the challenge of adulting only manage to reveal themselves as they require head-on confrontation? Three years into post-grad living, I’m learning that that’s life. It just keeps on coming. Then you think, Alright. Here we go. Another challenge to surmount. And then you do it.
But what happens when you get tired?
When Jake and I moved into our house after getting married, I told him, “I will not live in a house that looks like a college dorm.”
Aside from being sick of the kind of décor I had had on my walls since high school, I really wanted to live in a place that felt like home. After graduating from college, I lived in three different apartments in two years. Things weren’t permanent, they weren’t inviting, and they definitely weren’t inspiring. When we got married and got the opportunity to rent what is right now the perfect house for us, I was determined to make this space into something I had yearned for for years.
I knew that I wanted to be an English major by the time I was 14. English was not only a subject that I did well in, but it was also one that actually held my attention. I was an editor and contributor for the school literary magazine, and I even came third in a school-wide poetry recitation contest. But I always had trouble saying, “I like reading.”
Let me first say that I love books. I love holding a book in my hands. Mid-size paperbacks with soft pages and flexible spines−man, they are the best. I like walking around knowing that I have a book in my bag, that I could close out the world and just focus on the piece of work in my hands. If I wanted to. I’m so comfortable in bookstores, and libraries make me feel the kind of excitement you get before you go to see a show. But I wouldn’t be 100% honest if I said, “I like reading.”
Remember when I said that I’d be posting on Sunday mornings? I’ve already lied to you. It’s Wednesday, and here’s another new post for you.
It’s the first Wednesday of the month.
I want to introduce you to a project I’m starting, and even though this is a life project, I can’t seem to separate it from a crochet metaphor in my mind. It goes like this:
If you’re a yarn crafter, you know how tempting it can be to gather patterns for projects you would love to make. You may even go so far as to buy the yarn, but let’s face it, some projects never get started.Even more projects never get finished. My life feels kind of like my yarn stash right now. It’s a mix of exciting possibilities, overwhelming potential, and a bit of guilt for letting some endeavors sit for so long. (I’m thinking of you, granny square blanket that I started in 2015).
Consider this a down payment on my future.
Three and a half weeks ago, I was awake at 4:00 am staring at the wall of my hotel room. I was on a work trip and I couldn’t sleep. No matter where I tried to take them, my thoughts kept being chased by this one phrase: invest in yourself.
I was attending a marketing conference, and while I picked up a lot of tips and inspiration for my work, I couldn’t help but gather some for my personal development as well.
The idea that the most important thing you can invest in is yourself was a common thread among a lot of the sessions I attended. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense to me. Even if you’re not beginning some entrepreneurial journey, investing in yourself is going to have ripples that positively impact so many other parts of your life. If I invest in myself, I’m going to be a better wife, daughter, friend, employee, human.