Forced Optimism

I used to feel like luck determined your life, essentially. Recently, optimism and the trust that God IS actually looking out for me seemed kind of far away. I felt like something big would have to go my way for me to see that, and that's a problem. When you get to a mindset where "things happen to other people," you get stuck there. When you start to believe that boyfriends or scholarships or jobs or whatever don't happen to you...they don't. In the same way that life is what you make of it, success is what you make of it, luck is what you make of it. I need to get back to a place where I can honestly trust and believe that God does have my back. I know He's there in the hard times, but I sometimes have trouble grasping that He's even there during the just frustrating times.

Unplanned, but Wonderful

Last night, a friend had a campfire in her backyard. By the time everyone came, there were four girls and one guy (my friend's...unofficial boyfriend?!?). We spent most of the night listening to music and just talking about random things, like how drunk certain people (not me) were the night before. After one girl left, we somehow got onto the topic of the elections. We talked a bit about parties, about specific candidates, that kind of thing. Eventually we started talking about issues. We discussed immigration, gun control, the environment, the economy, education, nearly everything. It was completely random, but really refreshing. I'd forgotten how good it is to have a nice, intellectual discussion. Some politicians discount us as a demographic, because, historically, we don't vote. This election is changing that, though. Our generation is becoming informed and politically conscientious. It's a wonderful thing to see, because, in all honesty, we're going to be running this country in 20 or 30 years, not our parents. Why shouldn't we care about shaping it up before we get there?

Discouraged

You know, I've tried so hard to always have hope. Always. Even when everything's going wrong, I've tried to be sure that there's some good hiding there. Lately, my grasp on hope has begun to slip. I've begun to view my future in terms of questions, rather than statements. It's become an "if" future, instead of a "when". I know it's bad and wrong and really not helpful, but...it's just started to seem like things happen to other people. Good things happen to other people. Not that bad things happen to me or something. The opposite actually. Things happen to other people, and they progress. I just...sit there. I don't change, I don't progress, I just stagnate. I hate stagnation. With a passion. Even if I'm moving backwards, at least I'm moving. It's just started to feel like everything I do is futile. If I look pretty, not like anyone's going to notice. If I apply for a job, not like anyone's going to hire me. If I do well, not like it will be recognized. I don't understand it. And I really don't like it. But I can't figure out a way to make it go away. 'Til I do, guess I'll just be stagnant and unemployed. Joy.

Childhood

I can't wait to have a daughter of my own. Any children, really, but especially a daughter. I want to be able to teach her all the things I wish I'd been taught. I was shocked this afternoon talking to one of my suitemates. Another suitemate was planning a paper, talking about puberty and about shaving legs. I mentioned how I'd been teased for a couple years because I didn't shave. My suitemate was surprised at my stories of being teased. She said she'd never really had any trouble when she was younger.
I want to be able to teach my daughter never to let anyone make her feel embarrassed about who she is. I don't want her to end up trying to learn all over again, like I am. I don't want her to be used to feeling embarrassed and expecting to be laughed at. Don't get me wrong. I'm not trying to start a Brigette Pity Party. I'm just thinking. Planning. I want my girl to be proud of who she is, because she will be beautiful. Our faults are what make us beautiful, not our perfections. The things that keep us from being perfect are where the beauty lies. I want her to understand that. Granted, there is a line between embracing your faults and always working on improving yourself, but neither thing should be paramount.

SASS Take It Back

These are pictures from a photo shoot for the Take It Back festival at Knox. The one to the right is my favorite and the one that was included in a slide show. There were a lot more. The photo shoot was about taking back your body. I'm so glad I did it. It's something I never would have done last year. One of my suitemates asked me why I posed the way I did: crunched up. "No one looks good like that." I told her it wasn't about making me look good. This photo shoot was about me saying "I'm comfortable with me. This is how I'm comfortable." And it was an amazing, liberating experience. I apologize to those of you who didn't want to see Brigette partially undressed.

Dance

I never used to dance before, when I was alone. I mean, I'd dance at parties and dances and in class and stuff, but I never used to really dance, just when I was alone in my room. I was always frustrated that I didn't know the technique. I still don't have any kind of formal training, but a couple days ago, I had music on while I was cleaning my room, and I started dancing. I didn't care about technique or anything else, I just danced. And I've discovered that my style of dancing is a weird hybrid of a bunch of things. It's got some belly dance and some ballet/lyrical, some social-type things, some grinding type, some swing. It's a lot like me, actually. I'm a blend of a lot of different things, and that comes out in the way I dance. Among other things, too, but especially the way I dance.

Missing

The last couple days have been days full of missing.

At work last night, we were talking about family (it's really boring on Friday nights). The girl I work with was talking about how her cousin wanted her grandfather to go with her to buy her wedding dress, because she wanted him to tell her if it was too risque. Sweet. We laughed about how uncomfortable older men are in stores. I remember how, when my Grandma and I went shopping, my Grandpa would sit in those chairs by the escalator with his arms crossed. Sometimes he'd fall asleep. *smiles wistfully* I haven't talked about him in a long time, and that makes me sad. I haven't gotten many chances to talk about all the memories I have with him and of him. I've talked about how I miss him, and how I miss Oma and Mr. Rodgers, but not memories. I don't want to lose those memories. I don't want them to hide themselves away in the back of my mind, because that's not right to the people I love. The memories I have of them are all I have left. I want to share them.

I also realized again that...I won't be able to drag my Grandpa shopping for a wedding dress or for a prom dress. I won't be able to see his face when I graduate from college and go to vet school. I won't be able to look down the aisle and see his face among the family and friends at my wedding. I won't get those chances and those moments with him, and I regret that. I know there's nothing I can do to change it, but I still regret it. I love him. A lot. And I miss him. A lot. That's never going to change, will it?

Another missing moment from last night happened while a few friends and I went into town to play pool. As we were playing, I had this flashback. No idea what caused it. I remembered how my first boyfriend always tried to get me to play pool. Now, I've never been good. I've never been tolerable, and I didn't want to play with him, because I was just that bad. Now, I don't care. I've gotten even worse, if possible, and I really don't care. It's fun. Anyway, as we were playing, I remembered...and realized that I still miss all the things I missed about him when we were together. When he wasn't around, I missed all the little things that made me smile. And I still miss them. And I'm not sure why. Maybe it's true that your first love never truly goes away. Maybe I miss feeling like I truly -knew- something and felt truly comfortable and at home with it. I'm at home here at school, but it's still different than...home. Both are home, it's true, but this is a newer feeling of home. It's still a little bit strange. But, when you date the same guy for 2 1/2 years, you really become comfortable with him and with yourself with him. It becomes a safe place. It's still strange not to be able to fall back on "Well, I have a boyfriend" as part of my identity, and as part of the world I know. A year later, I still feel just a little off-kilter. It's strange, and it worries me just a little bit.