Remember the Good, Even when You Feel Like a Loser

Memories are interesting. They can make us laugh out loud in a public space. They can bring us to our knees with heaving sobs. They can shape who we are. I saw something that said, You don't know what a moment means until it becomes a memory. I liked that. I also feel like art imbued with memories or based off memories is a charming thing. I made a video in college for one of my classes with Daniel Everett on this topic. It's called Peanut People, and it stems from when I was a child and would go to a job site with my dad. I remember eating peanuts and putting the shells on my fingers as hair, personifying each finger.



When I was a kid I had a presentation at school in front of the whole third grade and my mom was supposed to be there, but she didn't make it because she got caught in Phoenix (I get it, I'm not upset about this). I remember sitting there looking for her, trying to stall because I knew she wouldn't miss it, she came to all of our things. I thought she would be sad if she got there right after I went. So when it was my turn I stood there, with my poster, looking over the audience, waiting for her to walk in. Silently. I remember a teacher standing close to me just behind the curtain, calling me over to her in a whisper. My mom was so reliably always supporting us that I knew she would come. But this time she didn't.

I think this contributed to the buddings of my trust issues. They weren't a big deal back then, they didn't interfere with my happy naive life. But as I grew older I learned to fortify the walls I slowly built around my heart. With each failed relationship, unmet expectation, or unforeseen bend in the road on the path my life is taking I added to the combination lock protecting my heart. I depicted this idea back in 2008 when I sculpted this self portrait. Back then the correct combination was L-O-V-E. I spent a lot of time planning all the options. I know H-A-T-E was an option. But if I were to create this again, I wouldn't use letters to spell out one word. I would use words that would represent qualities I need in a person before I can let them into my heart. Words like Trustworthy, Honest, Kind, Faithful, Open, Loving, Affectionate, Understanding, and Real would likely be on there.

I think most people who are divorced have trust issues. I certainly do. The person I trusted most with my heart, my hopes and dreams, my body, my challenges or failures, discarded his promises to me and his affection for me. He withdrew himself from our relationship, proving not to be the devoted spouse I thought I had found. He became someone I didn't know or want to know. I resent him because I have difficulty remembering that time of my life. It's like a picture in my mind that's too dark to see everything. I can see that it's a picture of a small family with a couple kids who maybe were in a dance class, but it's too blurry and hazy to make out the details. I feel like he robbed me of that time with my children. And I feel like he continues to take my time with my children from me because I have to share them with him every week. It's the worst and hardest thing about being divorced! And I feel like I am always the one sacrificing. I'm the one who has to hold my crying daughters when I tell them it's time to go to his house. I'm the one who hears they don't get to see me enough. I'm the one constantly having to see the good in the situation, even when it feels selfish.

I realize I have trust issues but I think it's begun to really affect my life and the way I perceive the world. Deep in my mind, I believe that once someone gets to know me they won't want to be with me. This has happened every time I've had a relationship. Or even an almost relationship. The last guy I've had real feeling for said he feels the same, but doesn't want a relationship. And this other guy seems like he wants to date me now, but I know that once he gets to know me better he will realize that I'm not what he's looking for. I don't know what it is about me that makes me undesirable. I've worked really hard on myself to be the best I can be. I know I still have flaws, but I am working on them. I have a clear and positive outlook most of the time. I keep Christ at the center of my life. Maybe I'm just boring.

I have a friend on facebook who recently posted about emotional abuse. She shared this article and some of her thoughts on it. I couldn't help but think of my own experiences with emotional abuse. One of the things my ex-husband would do throughout our marriage was make comments attacking what I said. He would make me feel like I didn't have anything worthwhile to say and that I should keep my mouth shut.

When I have a conversation with someone, interjecting with small comments or jokes is a natural part to add to the flow of it. This is how my sister's and I talk with each other and they are my best friends. So when I was clearly actively listening to him and engaged in the conversation with him I was taken aback, hurt, and confused when he declared, "this is why it's so hard to talk to you." I've been careful about what I say and when I speak ever since. I feel fear when I do talk or interject because obviously people hate that and therefore me. He would even get upset with me when we would admire the moon at the same time. He would point it out first and I would say something like, "Yeah I just saw that!" He would then ask why I didn't point it out to him -- at first I thought he was joking, but now I'm not so sure.

I had a friend tell me recently that I was funny. In my mind I was like, I'm funny? Wahoo! I've always been the funny one with my sisters, not that they aren't funny, but my silliness is beyond ridiculous. I am slowly learning that when I talk, 1) people do listen, and 2) what I have to say does matter, is enjoyable, and appreciated. Austin didn't value what I had to say. I know this because he would disregard my feelings and advice.

After he graduated from law school he didn't have a job lined up and it took some time to find the right place. While normal, this was understandably frustrating for him, and like many others I've heard about, weakened his faith. He worked with the ACLU in SLC over the summer as he applied for different jobs. When the gay marriage laws passed, his coworkers had a party and took a group picture to celebrate. He told me then that he didn't know how he felt about it, so he opted to take the picture rather than to be in it.

During that summer he talked with me about some questions that arose because he read the blog of someone who was recently excommunicated. This blogger used a public platform to ask questions that were difficult, perhaps with no clear secular answers. Asking questions is fine, good even, but not on a public forum. The problem here is that there are people who may find what he writes but aren't ready or capable of thinking about these or have the tools to truly understand God's plan and then they fall away. It's not faith building.

1 Corinthians 8:9 But take heed lest by any means this liberty of yours become a stumblingblock to them that are weak.

When Austin told me about these questions that turned out to be the beginning of his way out of the church, I told him my view on them. I thought he was satisfied with what I had to say on the topic, but apparently he was not. When I learned he was still exploring this other blog I asked him to not read any more anti stuff. He actually told me okay. Obviously he didn't mean it. He had asked me to do (or to not do) specific things previously and I respected him enough to comply. He didn't respect me enough to heed my wisdom. Or talk with religion professors at BYU. Or Becky. Or his parents. Or the bishop. Or with me further about what he was really going through and thinking until it was too late.

It's like murder.

If you obsess over something with hate in your heart it will fester in your mind, creating a darkness that will overtake your whole life. If you talk to someone about it or seek forgiveness, you can be set free. You won't have to think about it any more. In my mind obsessing over what we don't, or can't know in this life is like this. Just accept that there are things God understands, that we cannot right now, and know He's got your back if you rely on and trust in Him. But if you plot and plan against Him, then sooner or later, you'll commit murder. And it will not be truth and light that is extinguished, but yourself. This is what happened. He wouldn't talk to me about his questions. He didn't talk to anyone. He just kept digging, finding more ways to hammer the wedge between him and God, whether they were founded on truth or just parading as such.

Then he flipped the switch and BOOM! He was gone. Like a suicide bomber. Like a vial of poison -- he swallowed the lies of anti and exmo. Like swallowing a bullet. Like jumping in front of a bus or off a cliff. He was gone. And it was his own choice. Because he didn't trust me or value what I had to say enough to listen to me. He didn't want it to be true enough to defend God and His plan. He didn't fight for his his family, or for me.

I have been feeling unheard and unneeded. I am grateful for the support I receive and for the inexpensive living arrangement I have. But I feel like I need and want more of my own space. I try to be as self-reliant as possible, but then I feel like my mom expects us to join them for dinner every night. It is easier, but easy isn't always better. It doesn't give me purpose. It's like eating together is part of what I pay in rent. I feel useless and underutilized. I miss cooking with Becky. I got to help cook the dinner for last nights book club. We had a four course meal. It was so fun cooking with someone. I just wish that if we're going to eat together regularly, that we could do it like a dinner group.

Monday: Mom cooks
Tuesday: Take-out
Wednesday: Lisa cooks
Thursday: Kimber cooks
Friday: Date night
Saturday: Solo
Sunday: Family dinner, where we can all contribute or we can do our own things

Last week when my parents were out of town for education week at BYU, I felt more of a purpose in life. I got to cook and clean and live independently. And it felt so good. I need more opportunity to be seen as valued and feel like I matter. When I don't get to cook or help or contribute or have a calling or ministering people, my gloomy thoughts of being alone tell me that if I wasn't around no one would notice or care. 

Though I don't have a calling or anyone to minister to, I serve where I can. My friends on the activities committee in our single adult ward have let me help them with their callings. I have helped with food and shopping before, but this week I was asked to lead the discussion at book club. It made sense because we (finally) read the book I have been wanting to read. I thought it would give me purpose and let me feel like I belong, but it was hijacked and the notes and questions I spend a few hours preparing earlier in the week got tossed in the trash because no one would listen to me. I just wanted to serve, but I feel like I failed.

To make matters worse, I had to deal with someone who was once one of my best friends, flaunt that he is friends and friendly with everyone around me, but wont address me or talk to me at all. It really surprised me that he could be such a jerk. I really don't know what to do. I feel like I should keep giving him chances and the benefit of the doubt. This seems like charity to me.

Moroni 7:45 And charity suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.

(I really can't think of this scripture without thinking of Chelsea and her actions to help us memorize it.) But at the same time I feel like that could be foolish, and perpetuate the hurt that comes from his estranged behavior.

With the combination of these emotional battles I'm dealing with that are making me feel unwanted, I needed to destroy something. I got some of the left over vegetables, my best friend, and a baseball bat, and went out to the desert. We spent some time exploding mushrooms, squashing tomatoes, and giving the eggplant a beating. It was fun and silly, and it really did help to make me feel better.

I think everyone knows of Kristina Kuzmic. She has talked about how she felt after her divorce. It's a very difficult situation. But she shared a story about how she got out of her own depressed bubble by serving others. Service really is such an incredibly powerful tool. You don't do it just to feel better about yourself, but when you do it you do feel better. She had to remember what she was good at. And when she figured it out she was able bring joy to others, which in turn, brought her joy.

So I asked myself: What am I good at? I am good at art. I'm good at cooking. I'm good at recognizing the beauty around me. In fact, this week I witnessed an amazing sunset. The majestic and bubbling clouds were glowing rich with gold and pink and orange. As I stood gazing up at it with my kids we talked about how it must be what Heaven looks like. I remember watching sunsets in Arizona growing up and thinking the same thing. 

The next morning as we listened to one of our favorite CDs from Calee Reed, the song What Heaven Feels Like came on. Eva commented that we should have listened to it last night while we were watching the sunset. I agreed. I love to focus on the good around me and find the Lord's hand in my life. I don't always do this. Obviously, considering how dark and dreary this post has come out. But when I do, I think that's as close to what heaven feels like as we can get on this earth, outside of the temple. I think this is something else I'm good at. I think this is one of my gifts of the Spirit.

Jesus Loves Me

As I was driving to church today I was thinking about the questions I don't have answers to. I was trying to dissect my feelings and figure out the Lords plan for me. We sang Where Can I Turn for Peace? for the opening hymn in Sacrament meeting. I related so much to this song today. It quieted my restless needing to know what I cannot and it brought me peace. I like to think about all the Savior has done for me during the sacrament. It's a quiet time I have every week to honor His atoning sacrifice. I like to help focus my kids minds on Him during this time, too. I will lean over and whisper in their ear, "Guess what. Jesus loves you!" Sometimes we talk a little more about Him and how they know He loves them, and how they show their love for Him. I missed whispering that today because I got to go to my mid-singles ward. But we had a special musical number first thing after the ordinance and in the song, Gethsemane, it says, "Jesus loves me." I thought that was a powerful thing to declare. I focus on helping others know that Jesus loves them, and I talk about how much I love Jesus, but I don't know the last time I declared, "Jesus loves ME." But He does. I know He does.

I sat alone during this meeting. I feel like I am supposed to get comfortable being alone. Sitting alone in church, and in life, I look at other people who seem to be comfortable and confident in being alone. I think to myself, just act like them and no one will know you are lava on the inside. I realize no one is looking at me, thinking, she has no friends, or something, but I still feel self conscious and want to disappear. I am the kind of person who likes to have a friend or two by my side, and when I do, I am comfortable and happy. 

It's strange to me when I hear people talk about how they want to stand out. They do things to be seen, like wear something glitzy, post personal things publicly on social media, or even perform a musical number in hopes to get noticed. They enjoy being the center of attention because they think it will get them a date. I know multiple people like this. I don't relate. It makes me feel so uncomfortable. I feel like I'm the opposite, I look for ways I can blend in and not be noticed. It seems to me that if you can get to know someone without that extra stuff it would make for a more genuine and sincere connection. And a more honest and intimate relationship. 

I know this is a public blog, but I'm not posting to get attention, sympathy, or a date. I also think it's more private to post here. If someone wants to scroll past (which I imagine most people do) that's fine. If someone wants to get to know me better or if they already care about me (my mom) then they can click in. But mostly, I post for two reasons. First, because I cannot keep it in, and second, because I hope and believe it can help someone else.

Relief Society was also good today. The lesson was on the same talk I happened to listen to this morning, Look unto Jesus Christ, by Elder Kim B. Clark.

In this talk he tells the story of the woman with the issue of blood. She had so much faith in Jesus Christ's healing power that she knew that if she could just touch the hem of His garment she could be healed. The scriptures say that Jesus perceived that power had gone out of Him and He asked who touched Him. I would like to point out that He knew who had touched Him. She didn't want to be noticed, she didn't even want to be acknowledged or recognized by Christ. But He knew her and loved her! She couldn't realize her significance or worth to the Lord, but He did. She spoke up and He blessed her for it, saying, “Daughter, be of good comfort: thy faith hath made thee whole; go in peace.” He needed her to come to Him so He could fully bless her.

It was a lovely day at church, but my spiritual enrichment for the day did not end there. I had the last performance of Joseph Smith the Prophet tonight. I'm so grateful to have been part of this concert. Music is such a beautiful and powerful way to gently touch our souls and teach us truths. It reminded me of something Joseph Smith said, "I knew it, and I knew that God knew it, and I could not deny it." This phrase went through my mind countless times while I was being challenged and pushed to my limits during the darkest hours of my life.

When I was married to someone who was against my beliefs, and therefore against me, I woke up every day and chose to believe. It was not always easy. I sometimes thought, it would be so much easier if I just let go. But then I would think about it and that phrase would enter my mind. I have witnessed miracles, from small to significant. I have been physically, emotionally, and spiritually healed through priesthood blessings. I have born children and felt the miracle that is bringing life into the world! I have felt the hand of God directing me in my life, and I have been to the temple. I know what I know is true. I know there is a God who knows me and loves me. I knew it then and I know it now. And I cannot and will not deny it.

Today I felt known by the Lord. I could feel that He is aware of me. There were lots of tender mercies that repeated thoughts I was having, answered question, or comforted my soul. I know He is there and I believe that He loves me.

Music

I've had a lot on my mind lately. I've been wanting to write another post, but the words wont come. Here are some songs that I've been singing and listening to a lot.

First, this one is from a program I'll be participating in next weekend. I've loved this song for a long time - over ten years.
I sang it in a choir at a BYU fireside with Elder Holland. It's beautiful and hopeful, and lately, for me, heartbreaking.


"Fear not men, for they cannot hurt you."


Next is a song from one of my favorite plays. I have loved the movie since college, when my roommate introduced me to it. I fell in love with the play when my sister and I went to the high school production, also while I was at BYU. We purchased the Broadway CD that night. I saw the play again a year ago, and finished reading the book this week. I love everything about this story. I've been listening to this song on repeat.



Lastly, this one, because, Jeremy Jordan.

When "Endure to the End" Doesn't Look the Way You Think it Should

I have lost people.

My grandma died a couple years ago and I have actually felt a closeness to her since then. I remember one morning as I was waking up and preparing myself for the day, I felt an overwhelming sense of love from her. I could tell that she's looking out for me and still loves me from the other side of the veil. While I've always loved her, I was never particularly close with her. This was not a death that has effected my well-being. It's not something I had to come to terms with.

I have lost people much closer to me, in fact, I lost my closest person. I lost my husband. I truly think of this as a death, even though he didn't physically die. The closest example I have found to illustrate how it feels is from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. when a parasite comes and inhabits a body. When it takes over the body, it effectively kills the person who it now identifies as, while retaining all memories and knowledge. It looks the same, for the most part, but it is in fact a different creature all together. I felt like I was living with a different person, and it wasn't someone I would have chosen for a roommate.



I tried to endure our time together, and make the best of it. I tried to be a happy family for the sake of my children. I tried to accommodate him and his new character. But it was draining. It was work that I wasn't really invested in. I was no longer attracted to him because his spirit was different. I found myself daydreaming of a different life. With a wholly different person.

Then the guilt set in.

This was my husband. I covenanted with God to be loyal and faithful to him. Just because I didn't feel love for him in the same way I once had didn't mean I should give up. That I should leave him. So I endured. I forced myself to smile and carry on. I forced myself to proceed with life as though nothing had changed, even though everything had. I tried to talk with him. I continued to kiss him and be close with him. I'd leave him love notes. Even when I could only feel disgust and hate toward him, I would write down things I loved or admired about him. This was not an easy exercise, but it was a worthwhile one. I never received one back. He wouldn't push himself out of his own self absorbed mind to try to see the good in me. He did at one point share a journal entry he kept on his computer with me. It was about what he disliked about me. Goes to show that what you focus on becomes your reality. This might have even been a self-made reality for him, since what he put me through felt like Gaslighting.

When he finally asked me for a divorce, I was so ready that I eagerly agreed. I felt free. But his timing was terrible. He asked this a week before our five year anniversary, and a month before a family reunion that I had been looking forward to for the past couple years. It would be in Idaho (I had never been to Idaho) for the solar eclipse (I had never seen one in totality), so we agreed we would wait.

This reunion was a lot of fun. We all stayed in a beautiful cabin in a beautiful place. I was glad to get to spend that time with his family. Most of them didn't know our plans to divorce, but I considered it a goodbye. I was sad to lose this family. They were now my family, and I wasn't just losing a selfish husband, I was losing half of my family. And that was a hard reality to face. I loved them.

He didn't move out for another seven months or so after that. It was not an easy seven months. It was empty. It was full of birthdays and holidays. But I needed to feel more like myself again. I had gotten lost in the piles of shadows cluttering up my life. I went back to the Art World. It felt like home as I walked the streets of downtown Scottsdale, though I had never been before. I didn't care if I was alone, because I had Art. I was getting to know fellow artists through their work and their instagram accounts. I began making a lot of Art. Large oil paintings of desert landscapes. I had never done, or liked, paintings like these before, but it was therapeutically filling a hole in my battered heart.

"Homesick"

I've been having a lot of grief counseling articles pop up in my news lately. I particularly liked this one. It talks about what we go through when someone dies, but I have been applying it to how I have felt while coping with losing people I care about from my life. I don't let people into my heart easily. I have a handful of people (outside my family) who I consider to be close and trusted friends. I think I recently lost one of them, which breaks my heart. I am reminded of my BFA Artist Statement:

One of the most influential things that has informed this body of work has been the seemingly bad things that have happened to me. The friends I have lost. The new situations I have found myself in. Friends are important to me. When I let someone into my life I let them into my heart and develop a relationship with them that I can’t imagine not having for the rest of my life. Unfortunately, friendships end. People leave. Move on. Go in other directions. Betray you. Sometimes you can’t help it. It hurts. The pain I have felt and the strength that comes from it is why I believe we will be friends in Heaven. In this show I want to express the importance I put on friendships and the anxiety I feel in meeting new people. Because what starts with anxiety can become something you cherish for eternity.

I'm not grieving over losing my husband any more. It's frustrating having to deal with sharing custody, but I'm not experiencing denial, anger, bargaining, or depression any more, I feel I have reached acceptance in this area. I do feel like I may have some PTSD from what I've gone through.

For example, this last Sunday I went to a fireside by T.C. Christensen, a cinematographer, film director, and writer. He shared some clips from a movie coming out this weekend called, The Fighting Preacher. It looks really good. One of the clips was of the preachers wife, Rebecca, being attacked by a thick darkness that came with the lies and murmurings of those who were fighting against God. I was uncomfortable watching it. I felt suffocated and wanted to leave the room.

Obviously there are still scars and baggage that I need to work through. While I rely on the Lord to help me through my challenges, I need others to support me, too. Lucy Mack Smith said, "We must cherish one another, watch over one another, comfort one another, and gain instruction that we may all sit down in heaven together."

I really do believe that by enduring the difficult situations we are bound to find ourselves in, with faith and hope, we will be friends in Heaven, no matter the distance that may come between us in this life. This is a gift that was made possible by our Savior Jesus Christ. He loved us so much that He gave His life for us. He loves us so much that He died for each one of us. And He lives so that we can live with Him again, and all those we love. That's how we should love each other, willing to sacrifice all we have.

We've been talking about the two great commandments at church and institute lately. It's been bothering me that people just say it is to love God and others. We are commanded to love ourselves, too, as we love our neighbor. I thought I had to endure a loveless marriage to an atheist, but that's not what the Lord had in mind for me. I gave up my life for Him. The life I thought I wanted. I gave it up to follow the Lords plan for me. He knows me better than I know myself. He knows what I need. He knows how to love me and how I need to love others.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland gave an amazing talk about just that, How Do I Love Thee? It talks about how we can love fully, selflessly, and with kindness. In short, it is about having charity, which is the pure love of Christ.

But actually watch that one, it's less than 3 minutes...

I used this video to pacify my frustrated children this morning on the way to school. It worked. Of course it worked. It brought the love of Christ into our car. But it also softened my heart. I was holding on to anger because someone I thought was one of my best friends has recently cut me out of his life. It seems he has gone out of his way to avoid me and has changed his behavior and surprised me by his lack of compassion toward me. I was determined to embrace our disconnect, to show him I don't need his friendship as much as he doesn't want mine.

But that is not Christlike.

This video made me ask myself, how can I show my friend that I am and will be his friend? Things changed because of my actions. But I acted because the Lord directed me, thus, it is the Lords will. I have rethought my determination and have decided to exercise charity. I hope we can regain our friendship, nevertheless, I will endure whatever outcome with compassion.