Introvert, Extrovert, Or Both?

I like to guarantee myself space. There is nothing wrong about you needing quiet and alone time to recharge your batteries. For a long time, I felt shame when I had the urge to separate myself, mostly because those around me made it feel like a bad thing.

Plus, being called an introvert feels like a dirty word. Who would want to be labeled as introverted when they’re the stereotypical quiet, shy, meek and feeble person in books, movies, and what your friends say about ‘those people?’

But let me tell you something, the definition of introverts and extroverts are not based on personality types i.e. introverts are shy and extroverts are fun and outgoing. It’s about where you get your energy from.

Introverts recharge by spending time alone. Extroverts recharge by being social. There is nothing wrong with you if you feel re-energized by spending time alone, and if you feel no shame about where you get your energy from then, way to go you! You’re ahead of the game!

Oh, and curveball, most of us fall somewhere in the middle and are categorized as an ambivert. There are very few true introverts and extroverts.

For example, I recharge by spending time alone, enjoy one-on-one conversations, and have close relationships with few people which are more introverted qualities. On the flip side, I accept change, can work a room filled with people I don’t know, speak up in meetings when I’m not prompted and get distracted easily because multi-tasking is. my. jam! These qualities are more extroverted.

Feel free to check out this quiz to see where you land. I got ambivert BTW. Also, this chart from HuffPost is a fun either/or graphic…

huffpost introvert extrovert graphic

I would let (again and have now realized) others make me feel bad when I needed space because of their comments, “Shannnnnnon, c’mon! Stop being such a recluse, you gotta quit being so…”

There is nothing wrong with saying no to social functions on behalf of your own need to recharge. What they think of you for needing the space is none of your business, remember?

And as Ron once said to Harry…

harry potter quote about not letting the muggles get you down

Cheers to becoming more grounded in who I am as a person. Holy shit it’s taken long enough.

COME BE MY FRIEND ON INSTAGRAM. I’M HILARIOUS.

Tony Robbins Mic Drop Part II

“Which parent did you crave love from the most…” and, “who did you have to be in order to get that person’s attention.”

This is the Tony Robbins mic drop. This question ALSO relates back to last week’s post about drowning in other’s opinion of me. I craved love the most from my Dad. I never felt loved for who I was, only for who I could be for him. The person I needed to be was someone who went above and beyond in every and any situation.

For example, one time, Dad needed somebody to help him paint the outside of the house underneath the deck. He convinced me I was a perfect size and fit for the job, so I agreed. Put on my painting clothes, climbed underneath the deck and crawled over to the spot where dad was hoisting down my paint bucket.

I got paint all over me by the time I was done. Instead of a thank you, I got criticized for how much paint ended up on me and a lecture about being better, faster, and smarter. Everything I did was expected to be perfect, there was no room for grace.

Nothing is good enough as is, you must always push for better and greater, otherwise, you’re a lazy bum who will amount to nothing. And this is a theme I carried throughout childhood and working on to this day to unwind because while it’s important to have the drive, it’s also important to celebrate your victories along the way. Otherwise, you live in a constant perpetual state that plows you through life without appreciating any fruit of your labor and leaves you always feeling, never good enough.

This constant pressure to know better, be better and do better, fueled my need to overachieve in all the things. What I didn’t know then but know now is that I was over-performing in hopes I’d get his attention. Tell me I’m doing a good job, please! Tell me you’re proud! Tell me I’m not a fuck up! 

And right about here is where the bomb exploded in my head like, oh shit. I’m still living and making decisions based off of the want to please my Dad and make him proud because I want to hear ‘”I’m proud of you,” or “I love you for you,” from him before it’s too late.

Jesus, I’m still living under his strict and harsh expectations for me and I haven’t lived under their roof in over a decade! Instead of asking myself how I want to proceed, etc. I’m operating out of habit and the underlying need to please Dad.

Well, hot. damn.

Once again, I need to get the extra voices out of my head and focus only on mine.

Let’s go back to last week’s post for a moment and bring these two together. I have anxiety because I’m trying to please those on the outside looking in and ignoring my own personal wants by burying them under endless mountains to climb/projects to finish.

By not paying attention to MY voice and worrying constantly about how I can show up for others causes massive anxiety because I feel split. Do I actually want to freelance? Do I actually want to have my own company one day? Do I actually want…

When people ask me what I want to do I simply tell them, I want to write books and make a difference. I realized I need to commit to making this real. I never commit to consistency with this blog or the content I publish on my Instagram. I’m not intentional and I keep it small by not sharing these blog posts on other platforms.

I feel less anxiety when I embrace every part of me that makes me, me. And if you need the reminder to love you for you, here it is: we need you as you are, you’re you for a reason.

Tony Ribbins Mic Drop quote on blog

Come be my friend on Instagram. I’m hilarious.

Someone Like You – The One With Dj

It’s Friday, which means another episode of Someone Like You is ready for download. This week is The One With Dj and we meet a young man who has been to hell and back, back again and got back on the wagon.

I’m glad you’re here, especially those who have stuck with me these last three months and have fared my nervous laughter and questionable audio. I appreciate you all SO much. And for those of you who might be new, my name is Shannon and I’m the voice who narrates this show. Someone Like You is about putting a face to the homeless and answering these three questions: Who are the homeless? How did they become homeless? How do we end homelessness?

For the last few months we have been able to meet a new voice who shares their story of survival ever other Friday, and today is a little bittersweet because my guest today is the last interview I have to share for the year. But don’t worry! I’ll be working on getting more interviews next year so I will be back for season 2. Follow me on Instagram @sjrandol to know the second season two airs.

Dj grew up in Highland Park, spent some time in Hollywood and now lives in a sweet apartment next to Staples Center.

He’s working at Trader Joe’s and Bed, Bath & Beyond, AND has prime physical custody of his 18-month old son. He spends his free time getting his little guy familiar with sports and prepping him for pre-school/daycare.

There are nearly 6,000 homeless youth searching for a safe place to sleep each night in the city of Los Angeles and 4.2 million young people will experience a form of homelessness within the next year.

Meet Dj.


Come be my friend on Instagram, I’m on Facebook but I think I play better on IG, lol. I also just launched a podcast centered around getting to know our homeless youth in hopes to better understand how to stop it by getting to know the young people who survived it. Listen to the very first episode, here.  

Girl, Routine Can Make Me Neurotic If I’m Not Careful

I’m not kidding girl, routine can make me neurotic if I’m not careful and I’ll tell you why in a minute. But first, can I get a high five for realizing this about myself? It’s like a huge exhale. Who knew it was so important to be curious, especially when it comes to yourself.

Over the last few weeks, I have been participating in Rachel Hollis’ #Last90Days challenge which is all about taking ownership in your own life and because the last 90 days of the year can be the most challenging, with holidays and extra family functions, it’s a great reminder that you get to choose what happens inside your own life.

The success in owning your last 90 days is completing Hollis’ 5 To Thrive each day.

  1. Get up an hour earlier than you normally do and use the time for yourself.
  2. Workout for at least thirty minutes.
  3. Drink half of your body weight in ounces of water each day.
  4. Give up one food category you know you shouldn’t be eating.
  5. Write down ten things you’re grateful for every single day.

Simple or overwhelming, depends on the person. Know what I’m saying? This is where I begin to explain the title of this blog and first, I must note Hollis makes a point to stress these five are to motivate you not strangle you i.e. you’re not going to be on your A-game every day, so when you do slip up, don’t waste anytime crying over spilt milk.

A few months ago I wouldn’t have been able to HEAR the reminder because I don’t accept anything less than perfection when attacking a challenge or professional goal.

Case and point. For two years I had a strict exercise routine which included a morning mile and a half run every morning, legs every Tuesday, ClassPass once a week, swimming (during the summer) in the afternoons (my ‘fun’ exercise for the summer but not a replacement for cardio), arms and abs every other day and sometimes I’d double up.

I didn’t believe in rest days or legs that didn’t hurt for three days after Tuesday. If I skipped a run or just didn’t feel like doing the sit-ups, I’d feel like a failure and spin into an awful negative self-talk about how awful I was for not being able to complete one simple task, how could I be so lazy?

The over-exercising led to other issues. I ate whatever I wanted because I was exercising so much it didn’t matter. So when the wheels to my train eventually flew off, it took an additional year to figure out where I went so wrong.

BALANCE. I lacked balance. I’m an intense person, mediocre isn’t in my vocabulary. So I go balls to the wall with everything and have a hard time accepting I’m human, who can’t do all. the. things.

Let me say it again for those who might be sitting in the back row. If I’m human, you sure as shit are, too. BALANCE. BALANCE. BALANCE. BALANCE! There’s no reason to choke yourself, writing this because I need the reminder for myself!

And that is what I’ve brought to my Last 90 Days challenge. My Five To Thrive is tailored to what I need, not what I should be doing.

For example, I don’t get up an hour earlier than normal because my normal is already an hour early so I can run my pups. Instead of giving up a food group I’ve given up my fourth meal because it’s a bad habit I’ve been ready to give up. My thirty-minute exercise doesn’t have to be balls to the wall (like, can’t walk for three days) in order to ‘count.’ If I take the dogs for a walk for thirty minutes–that’s good, it’s about getting out and moving.

The best gift I’ve given myself these last 90 days is grace. I’ve missed a few gratitude journals and I give myself rest days from exercise. The world is still turning, and I’m not beating myself up about it.

“We tend to forget that baby steps still move us forward.”


play better on Instagram than Facebook but regardless, be my friend online. RamblinRandol is my quest for true belonging. I also just launched a podcast centered around understanding the homeless youth epidemic, subscribe and join me on this brand new journey! 

 

 

 

What Are Ten Wonderful Things About You? Gratitude Wants To Know.

Happy Monday fraands, hope everyone’s weekend was good, decent, and uneventful in the best way. This moring’s blog is going to be quick because I forgot to write it last night and I’ve got twenty minutes before I really need to get ready for work. This might be my best blog yet because I won’t (can’t) allow myself to overthink each sentence and thought.

It isn’t always easy to remember our strengths or the good things about ourselves. Personally, I find it a helluva lot easier to call out my negatives than praise myself when this question is asked: What do you love about yourself?

When asked my hands usually go dry, heart palpitations increase and my brain literally freezes. The world goes in slow motion and I begin to stutter. My mind repeating one phrase, “what do I like about myself? What do I like about myself? What do I like about myself?”

Nothing ever comes to mind.

But this morning my gratitude journal asked me to name 10 wonderful things about myself and something about using the word wonderful helped me consider what I do think is wonderful about myself.

The word love is confusing for me so it throws off my way of understanding the question. So for the first time ever, I tried to consider 10 whole things I thought was wonderful about myself.

We each have personality traits that are really awesome, so I challenge you to answer the same question. I’ll share mine but I double-dog dare you to share your own answers in the comments.

Let’s do this together!

Ten wonderful things about me:

  1. My laugh is loudly sincere and wholeheartedly expressive of the joy I’m feeling in the moment.
  2. I’m a seeker of knowledge. I want to truly understand the why, meaning and perspective of any and all given situations, a.k.a staying curious.
  3. My want to be the change I wish to see in the world, nothing excites me more than giving back and helping make this world a better place.
  4. I love to cook and trying new recipes. A gift passed down to me from my Pops.
  5. Despite being armored up on the outside, any kind of unnecessary suffering truly bothers me.
  6. I am brave.
  7. I’m creative.
  8. Book smart and street smart.
  9. Incredibly strong, especially in the face of adversity.
  10. Fearlessly authentic.

This did me more good than I thought it would. It felt ridiculous and absurd when I spent (what I felt) too much time contemplating my wonderful parts, and then physically having to write them down.

There’s something solidifying to writing them down. I actually believe what I wrote, so I encourage you to write yours down and share them with me in the comments. This might be the best way to start off your Monday.

Don’t worry, it’ll feel silly at first, but I promise you it’s more rewarding than not.

Now to keep up with my promise to practice gratitude to fight my tendency to forbode joy: Currently feeling gratitude for my spin class tonight. It’s going to kick my ass back into taking care of myself. 

Cultivate it.

I play better on Instagram than Facebook but regardless, be my friend online. RamblinRandol is my quest for true belonging. 

The Difference Between True Belonging & Fitting In

School was out for the next couple days because a snowstorm blew through upstate New York and I was excited to have the day off to play in the snow. After getting bundled up and prepared to be in the frigid temperatures until exhausted from fun, I went outside to find my two siblings to play.

After searching the front and backyard, checking the neighbor’s yard and woods behind both our houses, I found them hiding behind a snowbank across the street. They were making snowballs and giggling.

When I went to jump into the ditch with them, they both scowled before letting me know I wasn’t invited. “Go away, you’ll tell on us. You’re no fun.”

“You’re no fun,” was a phrase I was familiar with, both my parents used it to fling it at me when I didn’t laugh at their jokes or understand what they thought was so funny. My siblings and parents shared this and no matter how hard I tried to fit in with the jokes and fun, it never worked.

I tried to be fun for years and then succumbed to believing I wasn’t fun and lived out their truth.

After reading through the first half of Braving The Wilderness by Brene Brown I finally felt like someone understood how I felt when it came to family.

She speaks about the moment she didn’t feel like she belonged in her family and how it affected her until she was in her mid-forties.

“Even in the context of suffering–poverty, violence, human rights violations–not belonging in our families is still one of the most dangerous hurts. That’s because it has the power to break our heart, our spirit, and our sense of self-worth. It broke all three for me”

– Braving The Wilderness, page 14

And when our heart, spirit, and sense of self-worth breaks, there are only three outcomes according to Brown’s research data…

  1. You live in constant pain and seek relief by numbing it/and or inflicting it on others;
  2. You deny your pain, and your denial ensures that you pass it on to those around you and down to your children; or
  3. You find the courage to own the pain and develop a level of empath and compassion for yourself and others that allow you to spot hurt in the world in a unique way.

The pain I feel is deep, so deep I don’t even know where the roots are to rip them out of my being. While I’m no expert, I will honestly tell you I’m extremely good at doing numbers one and two.

For years I tried to fit-in and for years got rejected, but I continually knocked on that door hoping it’d open and the outcome would change (not just with family).

Constantly setting myself up for disappointment made me the expert at numbers one and two. Anger has been my shield for MANY years and honestly, I’m still fucking angry.

I’m afraid of losing my anger armor. If I don’t have anger protecting me, then who am I and what will happen to me if I leave myself vulnerable and open to other emotions?

In Braving The Wilderness, Brene defines the difference between fitting-in and true belonging which sounds simple because on face value who doesn’t know the difference between fitting in and belonging? It’s in the word.

Her clarification between the two words was the flashlight I needed to start navigating my way out of the cave.

“Belonging is the innate human desire to be part of something larger than us. Because this yearning is so primal, we often try to acquire it by fitting in an by seeking approval, which are not only hollow substitues for belonging, but often barriers to it. Because true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world, our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance.”

She goes on to add true belonging also includes having the courage to stand alone when it’s needed, and feel comfortable with that decision. i.e. standing up for what you believe in wholeheartedly, even when you’re surrounded by different opinions.

I’ve been trying to fit into family and friend relationships for my entire life, basing my worth off what they’d give me in return. You get told throughout life that ‘family is everything’ and ‘all you have is your family,’ so it’s a confusing message when you don’t feel like you’ve ever belonged which makes it even more difficult to stop knocking at the door.

This new understanding of true belonging has lifted a burden off my shoulders I didn’t know was there. True belonging doesn’t require us to change who we are. It requires us to be who we are, therefore freeing me of the responsibility to feel like I need to fit in.

“You are only free when you realize you belong no place–you belong every place–no place at all. The price is high. The reward is great.” — Maya Angelou

Now to keep up with my promise to practice gratitude to fight my tendency to forbode joy: Currently feeling gratitude for the relationships I have at my office. 

Cultivate it.

I play better on Instagram than Facebook but regardless, come be my friend online. RamblinRandol is my quest for true belonging. 

It’s A Shame; He Was Doing So Well With His Shoveling

“When you have depression it’s like it snows every day.

Some days it’s only a couple of inches. It’s a pain in the ass, but you still make it to work, the grocery store. Sure, maybe you skip the gym or your friend’s birthday party, but it IS still snowing and who knows how bad it might get tonight. Probably better to just head home. Your friend notices, but probably just thinks you are flaky now, or kind of an asshole.

Some days it snows a foot. You spend an hour shoveling out your driveway and are late to work. Your back and hands hurt from shoveling. You leave early because it’s really coming down out there. Your boss notices.

Some days it snows four feet. You shovel all morning but your street never gets plowed. You are not making it to work, or anywhere else for that matter. You are so sore and tired you just get back in the bed. By the time you wake up, all your shoveling has filled back in with snow. Looks like your phone rang; people are wondering where you are. You don’t feel like calling them back, too tired from all the shoveling. Plus they don’t get this much snow at their house so they don’t understand why you’re still stuck at home. They just think you’re lazy or weak, although they rarely come out and say it.

Some weeks it’s a full-blown blizzard. When you open your door, it’s to a wall of snow. The power flickers then goes out. It’s too cold to sit in the living room anymore, so you get back into bed with all your clothes on. The stove and microwave won’t work so you eat a cold Pop Tart and call that dinner. You haven’t taken a shower in three days, but how could you at this point? You’re too cold to do anything except sleep.

Sometimes people get snowed in for the winter. The cold seeps in. No communication in or out. The food runs out. What can you even do, tunnel out of a forty-foot snow bank with your hands? How far away is help? Can you even get there in a blizzard? If you do, can they even help you at this point? Maybe it’s death to stay here, but it’s death to go out there too.

The thing is, when it snows all the time, you get worn all the way down. You get tired of being cold. You get tired of hurting all the time from shoveling, but if you don’t shovel on the light days, it builds up to something unmanageable on the heavy days. You resent the hell out of the snow, but it doesn’t care, it’s just blind chemistry, an act of nature. It carries on regardless, unconcerned and unaware if it buries you or the whole world.

Also, the snow builds up in other areas, places you can’t shovel sometimes places you can’t even see. Maybe it’s on the roof. Maybe it’s on the mountain behind the house. Sometimes, there’s an avalanche that blows the house right off its foundation and takes you with it. A veritable Act of God, nothing can be done. The neighbors say it’s a shame and they can’t understand it; he was doing so well with his shoveling.”

This was an explanation of depression shared anonymously on a Reddit thread and went viral. I’m sharing because mental health issues are still taboo in our first-world country and my wish is society as a whole would be more welcoming to those struggling with this ‘invisible’ disease.

Every year the foundation I work for hosts an annual fundraiser called Fight Night and splits half of the night’s net proceeds with another local at-risk children’s charity. This year we’re partnering with CHOC Children’s and its pediatric mental health initiative.

Here are some facts based on CHOC Children’s research:

  • Half of the children who struggle with a lifetime mental illness had symptoms before age 14 but received no help.
  • Only about 1/3 of children with mental health problems today receive any treatment.
  • Children with chronic medical conditions like asthma or diabetes are 2-5 times more likely than their healthier peers to have mental health problems.
  • Stigma, denial, and lack of access to care are barriers to healing.
  • The earlier a child receives high-quality, evidence-based care, while the brain is rapidly developing, the greater the possibility of a positive outcome.
  • Effective treatment in partnership with the family can change the trajectory of a life.
  • Suicide is the second highest cause of death with young people between the ages 10 – 24.

Clinical depression [1] is a “whole-body” illness that affects your mood, thoughts, body, and behavior. Many factors can contribute to clinical depression, including cognitive issues (e.g., negative thinking patterns); biological and genetic factors; gender (it affects more women than men); other medications; other illnesses; and situational factors.

For some, a number of these factors seem to be involved, while for others a single factor can cause the illness. Often, people become depressed for no apparent reason. In an effort to cope with the emotional pain caused by depression, some people try to “self-medicate” through the abuse of alcohol or illegal drugs, which only leads to more problems.

I was also made aware African Americans are even more less likely to seek treatment for mental health issues. The following [2] statements reflect some common misconceptions about African Americans and depression: “Why are you depressed? If our people could make it through slavery, we can make it through anything.” “When a black woman suffers from a mental disorder, the opinion is that she is weak. And weakness in black women is intolerable.” “You should take your troubles to Jesus, not some stranger/psychiatrist.” 

The truth is that getting help is a sign of strength. People with depression can’t just “snap out of it.” Also, spiritual support can be an important part of healing, but the care of a qualified mental health professional is essential. And the earlier treatment begins, the more effective it can be.

So…stop the stigma. Talk about it. Mental health matters. We need each other.

Everything you have ever wanted, is sitting on the other side of fear.-9

 

 

 

1-800-273-8255 – Your Life Matters

We are way behind the bell curve when it comes to understanding mental illness and it grinds my gears when there is no compassion or tried understanding. And I get it, not everyone is capable of understanding or compassion but what the hell is everyone else’s excuse?

Yesterday my husband and I ate a late lunch at our favorite sushi restaurant here in Orange County (Minato Sushi in case you’re wondering), and I overheard the table behind us discussing the recent suicides of Kate Spade and Anthony Bourdain.

The adult son claimed, “Kate Spade’s suicide was more of a shock than Bourdain’s, at least he had a long history with substance abuse.”

I tried not to glare. How can one suicide be more shocking than another? Isn’t all suicide terribly shocking? And to me, it sounds like he’s trying to justify one suicide over the other by understanding the public personas each person put on while out in the public, which leads me to the next two questions…

How come we have to assess “who is more broken” in order to determine our own emotions about someone else committing suicide? Since when does suicide make sense? And PS: just because you feel like you know celebrities, TV personas, etc. doesn’t mean you have the full story.

Let’s talk about mental health. Did you know that suicide is the leading cause of death in the United States? According to the CDC, it is now the number one fatal injury across the states, surpassing automobile accidents.

In this same report, the data shows men (in every age group compared with women) kill themselves at a higher rate than women. See that diagram, here.

This stat shook me, too. How come men are more prone to suicide? Is it because of the societal pressure to be a strong figure who provides, never cries, and will always come swooping in to save the day on their white horse for the family?

It’s impossible nowadays to have a one-family income support the family. So let’s let this ideal die with the same notion woman aren’t as valuable as men in the workplace and everywhere else.

I proudly stand with the women’s movement, chant for equal pay, and felt relieved when the #metoo campaign caught fire. And I also have that same passion forward thinking in regards to how we’re raising our young men. This ain’t 1950, boys can cry if they want to, too.

Suicide is defined (like I’m sure you know) as a death caused by self-directed injurious behavior with intent to die as a result of the behavior. Suicidal ideation refers to thinking about, considering or planning suicide.

Suicide is a MAJOR public health concern.

Logic made a hit record about suicide prevention. Jada Pickett Smith and others in the spotlight made a statement about their own personal struggle with mental health issues. Conversations are happening; let’s collectively continue improving our understanding of mental health.

What’s the first step? Does anyone have any ideas?

I think misusing the term mentally ill is a good starting point. We’re in a culture where words don’t matter because they can be slung anonymously over the web. We self-diagnose and label others easily and incorrectly. Not everyone is a narcissist. Mom’s an asshole but she’s not mentally ill. Not every school shooter is mentally ill.

Words matter and we should be careful with them.

Once we regain the word maybe then we can begin to redefine it in a way everyone can understand. Mental health is the umbrella word like marketing is to communications. Mental illness includes everything from panic attacks and anxiety to bipolar and schizophrenia.

Suicide is complicated and sad regardless of who commits the act. May no one reading ever know what it feels like to truly believe family, friends, and children, would be better off without you in their lives. If you’ve had suicidal thoughts or are having suicidal thoughts call 1-800-273-8255 for help.

It’s okay to not be okay and ask for help. Your life matters.

Now to keep up with my promise to practice gratitude to fight my tendency to forbode joy: Currently feeling gratitude for everyone sharing their own personal mental health story to help spread the awareness. What are you feeling grateful for?

Cultivate it.

I play better on Instagram than Facebook but regardless, come be my friend online. RamblinRandol is my personal journey about understanding myself more with the hopes it’ll help someone else in the twenty-something/pushing thirty struggles.

 

 

 

The (Wo)Man In The Arena

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” – Theodore Roosevelt

Excerpt from “Citizenship In A Republic”
delivered at the Sorbonne, in Paris, France on 23 April, 1910

Thank Teddy, couldn’t have said it better.

My parents had this philosophy with me while I was growing up. They both stressed the importance of getting up after you fall, not caving in when it comes to your personal well-being and reminding me it doesn’t matter if you get your ass beat as long as you stood up for what you believe in (figuratively and physically) because that shows courage.

So, before I read Brené Brown’s Daring Greatly novel, entering the arena actually meant going into battle. I’d enter the arena prepared to defend myself against whatever I was faced up against.

Now, imagine the uncomfortableness that washed over me when Brené Brown uses this same philosophy as a metaphor for emotional development. Like what? You want me to enter the arena vulnerable with no defense strategy and only protect myself with the strength of ‘being seen for who I am,” and the internal feeling of self confidence to battle through tough situations.

My first thought? This is how ‘people’ heal? GTFO. This is how people get crushed and then take years to recover. Nope! Not for me!

And then I kept reading…

For over two decades I have spent time and effort perfecting my battle strategies to keep me strong and brave in the eyes of my opponent. This arena (when I picture it) looks like the Roman Collosuem and my strategy mimics that dance matador and bull performed back in the day, meaning the victory is never given to the bull. I am victorious each time.

This arena is actually a battleground. Brené Brown’s arena is filled with only you and all of your worst thoughts, emotions, and uncomfortableness. The battle is not being fought with anyone else but yourself, and honestly, I’d rather the bull.

Yesterday I woke up frustrated with just about everything going on in life. I started to rehash old arguments where I’d say all the things I wanted to say, began to convince myself this ‘need to connect with others’ was complete bullshit, overrated, and only for pussies, while also imagining how I could blow up every relationship I’m in now so that I could finally succeed at being left the fuck alone.

Oh yeah, and then I was frustrated by the relationships I wish I had with my brother and sister. I spiraled through this angry chaos, happily. Because this is comfortable.

I even called my Mom to vent knowing she’d listen to me bitch, ask me one question that indirectly puts the blame on myself, to then spending the rest of the convo to vent her own problems (and ignore mine) so that when I’d hang up, I’d have good reason to be fucking angry.

Messed up, right? I set myself up to be angry because it’s comfortable. SMDH

The hardest transition I’m ever going to have to do is redecorate my arena, and repainting those blood-stained walls is going to take more than remembering Teddy’s quote.

So what’s the point of this blog, what does it do for you? I’m hoping some of you reading also struggle with vulnerability and not wanting to ‘be seen’ as incapable of going into battle (physically). That you can relate to my struggle and find the courage to also figure out how to de-armor yourself despite the many years it took to build it.

I want to end with another quote I read yesterday that spoke to me and my need to constantly feel like I need to protect myself from everything. This quote from Viola Davis gave me another perspective.

“They tell you to develop a thick skin so things don’t get to you. What they don’t tell you is that your thick skin will keep everything from getting out, too. Love, intimacy, vulnerability.

“I don’t want that. Thick skin doesn’t work anyore. I want to be transparent and translucent. For that to work, I won’t own other people’s shortcomings and crticisms. I won’t put what you say about me on my load.”

I owe it to myself to let in love, intimacy AND vulnerability. There’s no way to let in only one, you’ve got to own ALL of it in order to enjoy it.

Now to keep up with my promise to practice gratitude to fight my tendency to forbode joy: Currently feeling grateful that I woke up in time (forgot to set my alarm) to go for my routine morning run with my puppies. What are you feeling grateful for? Tell me in the comments. 

Cultivate it.

I play better on Instagram than Facebook but regardless, come be my friend online. RamblinRandol is my personal journey about understanding myself more with the hopes it’ll help someone else in the twenty-something/pushing thirty struggles.

No Longer ‘Feeling Twenty-Two’ And I Don’t Think T-Swizzle Is Either…So There’s That

Sometime in the early morning of May 21, 1989, my Madre gave birth to yours truly at Buffalo Mercy Hospital. To everyone’s surprise, it wasn’t snowing. Today I am twenty-nine, no longer ‘feeling twenty-two’ and officially pushing thirty, but I’m not mad about it.

There’s a handful of people I used to know who will never be able to dread turning thirty, some didn’t even get the chance to move out of the teenage years. So while getting older does mean I’m getting closer to … the end … being able to age is a gift, and when my boobs sag to my knees I hope I have the same mindset.

Usually, I try to make this day slip by without anyone noticing and to be honest I’m not really sure why. If I had to guess I’d say it’s equal parts annoyance when people try to make me feel special (yes, I know how that sounds), the fear of being let down again because nobody cares, and a mixture of hating the spotlight that comes with it is a day literally about you–and anyone else born on that date (haha).

And while “It’s My Birthday I Can Cry If I Want To” was a popular hit in the 1990’s, I’m not letting it be the anthem of today’s post (even though there’s plenty to unpack in the last post, I’ll leave it to another day). Instead, I’m going to try something new…

…enjoy today and try to enjoy other people wanting to enjoy it with me, even if it fucking. kills. me.

In honor of being 29 (and practicing letting others get to know me and being okay with being out there all ‘willy-nilly’) here are twenty-nine fun factoids about me you probably didn’t know.

  1. I own [almost] every Nicholas Sparks novel
  2. but Jude Deveraux is my FAVORITE romance writer, best book: A Knight in Shining Armor
  3. In the 7th grade a boy brought me flowers for my birthday. He walked into our science class and gave them to me. I was so embarrassed I spent the entire period convincing him he shouldn’t like me, successfully.
  4. I asked out the hottest kid in middle school by shouting the question at him in the hall as we passed by, he avoided my hallway after that, haha.
  5. One winter I actually got to build an igloo with my Pops. It snowed so damn hard in Le Roy that year the snow was deep enough to build underground tunnels to and from the igloo.
  6. My Mom was the best at making up shit to do to keep her three kids busy. My favorite was when we’d pull all the books out of the shelves and build a castle.
  7. After watching Home Alone for the first time I couldn’t walk around the house without socks on because of the nail-through-the-foot scene. I can know acknowledge socks wouldn’t have saved my foot but holy hell did it make me FEEL like my feet were protected.
  8. I once used sidewalk chalk to tell a neighborhood friend I didn’t like her anymore, wrote ‘Go Home Amber’ across 8 or 9 squares. The next day I felt so bad I went to her grandmother’s house to apologize. Her grandmother answered the door and I almost shit my pants because she apparently knew how to read, too. So I apologized to her and Amber, and swore I’d never do something so nasty again.
  9. My family’s motto was “a family that farts together stays together,” My husband really had no idea what he was marrying into, lmao.
  10. My first fight was with a kid who lived in the trailer park. He was sitting on top of my brother pushing his face into the snow and he couldn’t breathe, so I pushed him off my brother and kicked him down a hill. His mother ran out (bare foot) while I was helping my brother up and chased us half way home. I walked in the house with my brother and calmly said, “Timmy’s mom is going to call you. He was hurting James and I kicked him down the hill. I’m not sorry.”
  11.  In that same trailer park, all the kids would come to this one huge rock pile and play Kings and Queens. King and Queen were determined by how far up the tree you could climb without chickening out. I was always Queen.
  12. The only movie I can line is Austin Powers.
  13. I used to write letters to my tooth fairy when she was expected to visit. I’d ask her if she liked her job, what her house looked like and wtf she needed my teeth for…
  14. I used to push a stuffed Big Bird in a shopping cart EVERYWHERE I went.
  15. Don’t ever trust me If I say I have a favorite color. It changes every other year or week depending on my mood.

Okay, there’s no way I’m going to make it all the way to flipping twenty nine! What am I a narcissist?!?! Besides, I fessed up some good ones.

But on the real, even though this is the last year to claim my twenties, it feels like this is the first year I’ve started living. I hear your thirties are the best years anyway.

Currently feeling grateful for the time the Hubs and I spent yesterday in Los Angeles at the Happy Place museum 🙂

Cultivate it.

I play better on Instagram than Facebook but regardless, come be my friend online.