On Being Single at 27

I always wanted to be married around age 24. I’m not sure why. It just seemed like a good age to me—not too young and not too old.

My parents were married at 27, so there’s never been any expectation or pressure to get married young, but somehow 27 seemed old to me. (Probably because parents always seem old when you’re a kid.)

I had this small fear of never being able to travel, finish school, be independent, etc. if I got married too young. So 24 seemed like a good compromise.

Well, obviously, that didn’t happen. Twenty-four came and went and, as Charlotte Lucas so aptly puts it, “I’m twenty-seven years old. I’ve no money and no prospects.”

Over the years, I’ve had my share of pity parties. Sometimes they are small gatherings. Other times they’re full-on block parties. But most days I am genuinely happy, and I don’t think much about my marital status.

Until, as inevitably happens every few months, someone—usually a well-meaning person who has been married for years and years—asks why I’m not married.

My fellow single friends have given me some excellent suggestions for a reply. One of my favorites was to take a deep breath like I’m going to say something incredibly insightful and revealing…and then turn around and walk away.

What I really want to say, though, is this:

First, there is an answer to that question: It’s not time yet. Why it’s not time is for God to know and me to find out as He wills it.   

Second, why does this question even need to be asked? I know it’s well meaning and is supposed to be a roundabout compliment, but asking it cheapens me as a person by implying that I’m not complete without a husband. And it diminishes this wonderful period of my life where I’m able to discover myself and further my education and work hard and play hard and gain faith and learn to trust—in other words, a very full, productive time.

Instead of speculating why I’m not married and saying flippant things like, “Isn’t that hard?” why not focus on what makes my life full and happy right now, just the way it is? Because I’ll gladly tell you what makes me happy:

·      Working in a job that I enjoy, using the skills I developed over 5 long years of school

·      Getting ready for graduate school in the fall

·      Teaching English to the cutest 80-year-old Ecuadorian lady

·      Teaching Spanish to the cutest 5-year-old

·      Coordinating language exchanges and making friends from Spain, México, and Bolivia

·      Taking singing lessons—and actually improving!

·      Traveling/seeing new places

·      Camping and hiking

·      Having random adventures with friends

·      Serving in callings that I love

·      Going to the temple

·      Going to institute and coming out with renewed faith and determination every week

·      Running

·      Learning new recipes

·      Becoming a better planner

·      Reading

·      Vegging in front of Kimmy Schmidt, Gilmore Girls, and Parenthood

·      Nerdy conversations about linguistics

Ask any of my single friends what they’re up to and they’ll tell you they’re buying houses, getting their own apartment, moving to new cities, getting their first big break in their career, getting raises, furthering their education, serving the people around them, being awesome aunts and uncles, taking cruises, learning new skills, and having tons of fun.

Sure we get frustrated some days when we see wedding announcements from girls we used to babysit or find out that a friend is having not their first or second but their fourth kid.  

But we are blessed. Our lives are full and meaningful. So instead of focusing on what we don’t have, focus on what we do.

That doesn’t mean you can’t ask about dating. I don’t mind at all if people ask whether I’m dating someone. That’s a big part of my life right now. If I say yes, awesome! If not, let’s just move on to a new subject. No need to dwell on it. It just means there’s currently no one of the male persuasion whom I want to spend an inordinate amount of time with, not that I’m dying.

In times past, the weight of being single has been crushing. I’ve felt forgotten, left behind, or even toyed with by God when a promising relationship failed. But it’s never been impossible to bear. And I know now that I’ve never been forgotten. No one is ever forgotten by Heavenly Father.  

No one is immune to challenges. We tend to foolishly wish for different trials, thinking we shouldn’t have to go through such hard times. But I’m grateful for mine, and I don’t wish this time away.

Along the way, God gives us help and hope. For me, I have been blessed with several strong, inspiring women in my life. They are doing wonderful things, following their careers and passions, loving life, and serving others. They’ve been incredible examples of fulfilling one’s potential, and God has given us each other to lean on.

He loves each of us perfectly and will help us through whatever we are going through. I know that with certainty now, and I’m not sure I would without this challenge.

Conference Voice

Recently I had a conversation with a friend about the Conference Voice. You know, that voice that all of the Conference speakers (Jeffrey R. Holland excluded) use when they give their talks. It has a certain unnatural lilt to it and an extra dose of sweetness. Kind of hard to describe, but definitely distinct.

For my friend, Conference Voice makes it hard for her to want to listen, especially to Women’s Conference. Somehow the voice seems more pronounced in the women’s talks. And it’s so distinct from normal speech patterns that it almost feels fake.

I absolutely sympathize with my friend. I’m pretty used to Conference Voice by now. I’ve heard it for 27 years. But it doesn’t make it sound any more natural to me, and it certainly doesn’t help me feel a stronger connection to the women who are speaking.

These women are older than me by at least 20 years. They’ve never been through what I’ve been through and they certainly don’t know, at least first hand, what it’s like to be a YSA in these times. And hearing them talk to me in a stilted, sugary voice certainly does nothing to help me feel like they get me.

BUT

I think my friend took exactly the right approach. She said this time she tried to pay more attention to the words than the voice. And she got something out of the message.

That’s what we should be listening to: the message, not the voice.

It’s hard, I know. The Conference Voice is distracting and, frankly, sometimes off-putting. But it is possible to get caught up in the message and the Spirit and forget about Conference Voice.

As a side note, the culprit behind Conference Voice is the teleprompter. Every speaker prepares their talk far in advance of Conference and reads it from the teleprompters when it’s their turn to speak.

And reading off a teleprompter is hard.  I tried researching how teleprompters affect speeches, and all I found was article after article talking about how hard it is and giving tips. Most speakers—Conference or otherwise—have a difficult time speaking naturally while reading from a teleprompter, even after practicing several times. Add to that the fact that you’re standing in front of 21,000 (!) people and a handful of cameras broadcasting your face around the world…yeah, I’d be speaking unnaturally too.

But speaking in teleprompter-induced Conference Voice doesn’t mean that the speakers don’t know what they’re talking about or that they can’t relate to me. It just means that I have to try harder to listen to what they are saying and pay attention to how I feel. Besides, even if they don’t completely understand my situation, God does, and He inspires His servants to say what we need to hear.

Times change, but the gospel doesn’t. The principles are the same. We just need to learn how to apply them to our circumstances. And God calls older women and men to teach us these principles because they’ve had lots of time to practice living them.

Maybe the future will see a few younger women and men reading their carefully prepared talks from the teleprompter. But for that to happen, the younger generation—us—has to start listening now to what the older generation is teaching. Because they are teaching us what God wants us to know, and they are giving it their all.

I’m hopeful that one day Conference speakers will master the teleprompter like Elder Holland seems to have done, and we’ll hear most of the talks given in a more natural, relatable way.  But if not, that’s okay. Because that’s not what’s important; it’s the words.

This year, I’m going to listen to the words, not the Conference Voice. And when I do notice the Voice, I’m going to find it endearing. I’m going to let it remind me of how many hours, prayers, and possibly tears the speaker put into preparing that talk that they are reading, hoping that it will touch at least one person and that it will deliver the message God wants delivered.

I know that the men and women who will speak at Conference are called of God. They are not perfect. And neither am I. And that’s why they need to learn from the preparation process and I need to learn from what they’ve learned.

I know that as we listen to the Spirit—the only voice we really must listen to—we will be blessed to know the things we need to know. We’ll find the answers we’ve been seeking. We’ll feel the peace we’ve been praying for. That’s the point of Conference. To help us find answers and redirect our lives. And God will help us do that if we will look past imperfections and listen to the words and the Spirit.

A Small Rant

I tried to think of a way to make this post insightful and thoughtful. But it's really just a rant, so I'll just call it what it is.

I'm so tired of the immaturity of some guys. I say some guys because I do know some pretty great ones, including my brother and some of my friends. I try not to lump all guys together and say all guys suck (even though it sometimes feels like they do). But I can't believe how childish some guys are . . . especially when it comes to video games.

A friend of mine told me that over the past couple months two guys . . . TWO . . . have opted to play video games all day instead of hanging out with her. Now, to put this in context, let me tell you that this girl is gorgeous, cultured, fun, and witty as anything. She has no problem getting a date and she's one of the most interesting people I know. And these guys had already expressed interest in her and had taken her out.

And then they got a new video game or something and were like, "Naw, I'm just gonna be a hermit all weekend and live in virtual reality. I mean, you're cute and everything but . . . "

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

These guys would rather sit in front of a screen for hours by themselves, than have actual human interaction with an incredible person?? One that, oh, I don't know, they might actually want to have a real relationship with?

And they're not the only ones. I know of and about so many guys who are opting to play video games rather than go on a date, hang out with friends, or (and this breaks my heart) play with their kids.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all about having down-time and tuning out once in a while. And video games aren't inherently evil. But this isn't once in a while for most (emphasis on most) gaming guys. It's habitual, and it's ruining relationships. And if they're playing violent games (which it seems like they usually are), that's even worse.

Not only do large amounts of game time take away from socializing time, guys who game regularly have a harder time interacting with others, especially girls. I know of a guy who openly admitted to not being able to talk to girls because all he knows is video games.

It makes me sad. I see so many amazing women who are looking for a real, committed relationship. They're smart, fun, driven, beautiful women. But the prospects sure look bleak when I hear about guys who are sacrificing their futures for virtual reality.

To Mourn With Those That Mourn

One of the most moving parts (to me) of any movie is the end of the What Dreams May Come.

The protagonist, Chris, is dead and has been on a journey through Hell to find his wife Annie, who committed suicide. After an arduous search, Chris finds Annie in a dilapidated version of their old home. Her mind is broken and she is unable to recall their life together. Chris frantically but unsuccessfully attempts to bring back some of Annie's memories. His mentor tells Chris that he has to leave or he will be trapped in Hell. Finally, Chris "gives up," but instead of returning to Heaven, he ignores his mentor's warnings and decides to join Annie in Hell.

Suddenly we see a flashback to a time after the death of Chris and Annie's two children. Annie is in an institution, unable to cope with the loss of her children. Chris has been desperately trying to help Annie move on and to pull her to where he is emotionally. Finally, when Chris stops pulling and joins Annie in her sorrow, she is able to heal.

It is the act of joining Annie that allows Chris to bring her back each time. That simple act of choosing to be one in heart with her, instead of trying to pull her somewhere she is not, saves her. 

It's been eight years since I watched that movie, and it has stuck with me. I thought it was beautiful and something about it resonated with me, though it wasn't until recently that I really understood it.

A few months ago I struggled with a difficult decision that left me confused and at times distraught. I felt isolated. I was the only one who could make this decision, and as sympathetic as people were, there was really nothing they could do to make it easier. 

I was talking with my sister one day about my decision and crying from the stress of it all. Trying to help, she listed off several reasons why I shouldn't worry and why everything would be ok. Other people had been doing the same thing over the past few weeks, and for some reason I didn't like it. Instead of comforting me, it just made me more upset, though I couldn't explain why. But finally, in that moment, it made sense.

My sister was just doing what most of us do when someone is upset--we give the person reasons not to feel bad so she'll hopefully cheer up. It's instinctive. But I realized that day that that was exactly the opposite of what I wanted and needed.

I already felt alone in making my decision. Having people tell me not to feel the way I was feeling only made me feel more isolated. It widened the gap between how they felt and how I felt because I was essentially being told to change my feelings instead of having them acknowledged and validated. 

I knew that everything was going to be alright. I was stressed and confused by my situation, but somewhere inside I knew that I would eventually be able to make a decision and that it would be ok. I just needed someone to see how hard it was for me and to join me in my struggle so that it didn't feel so burdensome--or at least so solitary--for a little while. 

As I slowly realized why I was feeling frustrated with everyone's well-meaning words of comfort, I explained my thoughts to my sister. She listened, and then she did the best thing she could have done. She just hugged me. She didn't tell me it was going to be ok. She didn't tell me to not worry. She just held me and let me be sad.

A while later I was sitting in church. The topic of discussion was mourning with those that mourn. It's a common enough phrase, and I thought I knew what that meant. But as I reflected on my recent experiences, I realized that I hadn't really understood.

To mourn with those that mourn isn't just to express sympathy for another person's situation. It means joining them. It means sometimes not saying that things will be ok or that someone should stop worrying. It means mourning also--being sad simply because another is sad.

The friend who introduced me to What Dreams May Come lost his father a few years ago. When he told me about that experience, I desperately wanted to express the acute sadness I felt at hearing that he had lost someone so dear to him. But the words wouldn't come. No phrase seemed adequate. So I finally asked him: What should a person say to someone who has lost a loved one?

"Nothing," he said. "There's nothing you can say. But the best thing is probably just to say, 'I'm sorry.'"

Just, "I'm sorry." Not, "It will be ok" or "You will get through this." Just a sincere expression of sadness because the other person is sad.

Christ did this perfectly when Mary told Him of Lazarus's death.

John 11

³² Then when Mary was come where Jesus was, and saw him, she fell down at his feet, saying unto him, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died.

³³ When Jesus therefore saw her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with her, he groaned in the spirit, and was troubled,

³⁴ And said, Where have ye laid him? They said unto him, Lord, come and see.

³⁵ Jesus wept.

³⁶ Then said the Jews, Behold how he loved him!

Yes, Jesus loved Lazarus. But He also loved Mary and Martha. When He saw how troubled they and their friends were, His spirit groaned and He was troubled too. He was sad because they were sad. Even though He had already told Martha that Lazarus would rise again, He mourned because they mourned.

When we genuinely mourn with those who mourn, we emulate the Savior. By joining them, we join Him in service.

I suppose I first learned something about this principle from a movie. But the moment I really understood it was when my sister put her arms around me and I felt my fears, worries, and sadness melting away. In her emulation of the Savior, she taught me an important lesson. Sometimes, instead of trying to pull someone away from their concerns and fears, we should just join them.

About the ACA

http://www.thefeeherytheory.com/affordable-care-act-millennial-generation-saying-2/

Two Huge Stuffed Animals, Roses, and a Balloon

As I was driving into my neighborhood, I saw a short, skinny kid with a huge afro walking happily down the sidewalk carrying not one, but two HUGE stuffed animals, an enormous bouquet of roses, and a big, shiny, red balloon.

That's how it should be.

No beating around the bush. No games. No ambiguous texts or cryptic Facebook posts. No trying to play it cool. No guessing. No confusion.

Just an obvious, confident Hey, I like (or love) you. Enough to walk down the streets of Provo carrying two huge stuffed animals, roses, and a shiny balloon.

Yep, that's how it should be.

Love this. Written by a mother of one who would love to have more children but hasn't been able to so far. It applies to any situation though. More on this later.

"So trust me when I say you can be content. You can have joy and you have peace knowing that really, it’s out of your hands. Don’t live your life in desperation and jealousy. It will eat your soul. It will kill your marriage and it will destroy your friendships. Love the life that you have now regardless of whether or not it’s exactly what you imagined it would be. Sometimes life works out the way you want it to and something is doesn’t. It’s sucks. It’s lame and it’s painful but you have a choice. You can allow yourself to be sucked into self pity and depression or you can be content always. No matter what. And be filled with joy and excitement about your life."