Tag: ramblin randol

I Don’t Feel Safe in “Safe” Environments

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There is a reason I tense up if someone pats my back. There is a reason why I don’t enjoy casual/friendly touching. There is a reason why I find myself the calmest in the midst of a shitstorm, and there is a fucking reason I’d rather be in the midst of a shitstorm where there is yelling, swearing, throwing of things and fearing for my safety than surrounded by people who would never get in my face or even consider raising their voice at me.

What is the action plan to protect yourself against people who want to love you for you, who are for you, and want to remind you every day you are worth it? And what does it mean when these supportive people aren’t family, what if they’re your coworkers and bosses, too? What then?

I don’t feel safe in “safe” environments because I don’t know the rules tied to safe environments, and the ones I do know I lack, i.e. trust, give the benefit of the doubt, and understand unconditional love.

Over the weekend I heard the phrase, “I just don’t think I’m at the point of where I’m ready to leave,” and it instantly brought me back to a time where one of my old roommates was explaining to me why she couldn’t dump her aggressive, obsessive, and controlling boyfriend. All the while my boyfriend at the time was doing a sweep through our apartment before we got home to double check her man wasn’t hiding there, waiting.

It reminded me of another friend, who took me years to shake and put me in situations that could’ve (and should’ve) killed me. Bottom line, the danger never scared me. I knew it, felt comfortable because I knew the rules and have always been extremely confident in my abilities to keep myself safe. I had plenty of practice.

And this is why I think “safe” environments make me itchy. I don’t know the rules. If I’m not on the lookout, then what the hell am I supposed to be doing? Enjoying? But do I deserve to enjoy it?

I Googled the definition of a ‘safe’ environment and was a little shook to see it’s described as a place where one feels safe to express emotions, security, and confidence to take risks and feel challenged and excited to try something new.

My definition of a safe environment is that nobody can get in, my space feels safe when I am alone and safe from the outside and positive nobody can get in.

There's a reason I don't feel safe in safe environments blog post quote

This journey has not been an easy one. But I am worth it. Also, this is

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Tony Robbins Mic Drop Part II

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“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

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You Don’t Need Permission From Anyone (Besides Yourself) To Grieve

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Give yourself permission to grieve the loss you feel. You don’t need permission from anyone (besides yourself) to grieve. Do you look for permission to feel sadness? Maybe you don’t even know you’re doing it. I didn’t, until this past Friday.

A few glasses of wine, one frozen pizza, a number of tears, and one Disney themed Kinkade puzzle sesh with the Hubs was my most recent Friday night. It could’ve been an episode on a YouTube channel called #Thisis30 because the conversation was DEEP.

My Mom had called me that morning to tell me she just put Kasey down (our second family pet to pass within the last 6 weeks) and had to talk to someone because she couldn’t tell my siblings yet based off how hard they took Kristy’s sudden passing a few weeks prior.

Now, it could’ve been the wine that helped open the floodgates or it could’ve been all the throwback photos of Kasey my Pops was sending me (or both) that did me in, but nonetheless, the tears poured out while looking for puzzle pieces which resembled the seven dwarves and a Hubs repeatedly reminding me my emotions were valid.

Why didn’t I think what I was feeling was valid? Well, the short answer? Because both of my parents have gone on about how both losses have affected them and my siblings, but not once have asked me how I was handling the news. So…if they haven’t asked me then that must mean I shouldn’t be affected because I live far away and haven’t seen her for a number of years, right?

I beat myself up because I’m sad but don’t feel like it’s justified because if my parents don’t think to ask me how I’m doing then I must be fine and I’m just being dramatic or looking for attention, which is an awful trait to possess and now I’m down the rabbit hole of how awful of a person I am.

It’s exhausting to fight with yourself as hard as I fight with myself, for real.

The real question is why do I need permission from my folks in order to feel justified about grieving my pet? Yes, it’s pretty shitty of them to exclude me from the ‘family grieving’ process but the bottom line is, I don’t need their permission. I give myself permission to give an outward expression to the internal anguish I am feeling.

Did you know that grief is the natural result of love? When we love we open ourselves up to the grief that will come because death is part of life. It’s as natural as a reaction as sneezing when your nose itches or sleeping when you’re tired.

I am sad because Kasey was a part of my life for almost a decade and I loved her, too.

So I won’t feel guilty for being upset. I may not have been around her every day for the last seven years but this isn’t a pissing contest, there aren’t rules to dictate when you may or may not grieve.

Maybe my tears that night were a mixture of grief for my old pet and a lack of with my parents.

There are a number of suggestions on how to celebrate your pet after he/she has passed and one was to plant a tree, scatter some of the ashes in the dirt or place a decorative stepping stone with their name at the base of the tree.

Another suggestion was to share a blog post and some of your favorite photos…

Kasey was an adorable pup who enjoyed carrying your shoe or sock around the house. She didn’t enjoy the hardwood floors and would stick to walking from rug to rug to avoid the hardwood. She slept under my Dad’s coffee table for almost 17 years.

I think what also stings is that I was so close to seeing both dogs again and now I never will. I have a flight in April to come visit and now the house I remember won’t exactly be the same with one German Shepard and one Golden Lab roaming around. I don’t have many familiar people, places, or things, because of all the moving and shuffling so when I do have some sort of comfort with familiarity I tend to hold on to those few and those dogs were my something familiar at home.

Everything you have ever wanted, is sitting on the other side of fear. (1).png

Join my new magic friendship portal (a.k.a email list but that sounds boring) if you’d like to be my virtual penpal. You’re guaranteed good eats, embarrassing truths and a few more takeaways from your friend Ramblin. Sign up here.

Come be my friend on Instagram. I 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. 

ps: thanks to this article for giving me some lingo.

 

 

 

 

 

Everything Will Be Okay, It Could’ve Been Worse

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“Everything will be okay,” and, “It could’ve been worse,” are two of the most deaf-toned responses to someone who has suffered a loss, survived a traumatic experience, or in the midst of a difficult time. What these two phrases do is actually dismiss any of the emotions the person suffering are experiencing.

About three weeks ago my husband was involved in a gnarly accident. A driver decided at the last minute he/she didn’t want to exit and slammed over into my husband’s lane, which fishtailed his truck up an embankment, flipped, and then rolled back down to the freeway exit. The driver who hit him never stopped.

His collarbone is fractured and hasn’t been able to return to work since the accident and won’t be able to for another couple of weeks, at least. It’s been difficult. The Hubs can’t lift his arm up, he’s in pain, he can’t work or do simple things like taking out the trash because it requires two hands to lift the lid and pull.

The air in our apartment is tense at most times because we’re both a little frustrated we don’t know what we didn’t know and we couldn’t know unless we’d experienced it prior. You think you’ve asked all the right questions but if you’re going in blind there’s no real way to know, until you’ve figured it out, which is frustrating and confusing. It’s been one big crash course in health and auto insurance.

It’s frustrating that some faceless no-name driver who caused this pain in our life, won’t be held accountable, because they simply chickened out and left the scene. How does that person even sleep at night? They don’t even know if he survived. Ugh, makes me rage.

Add the holiday season to the mix and currently, in the midst of moving apartments, “you’re going to have a bad time,” as that ski instructor on South Park once noted.

It’s been difficult. I’m grateful I got the phone call I did that night because I understand it could’ve been an entirely different situation, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get to feel frustrated and angry, or tired and upset just because it wasn’t a lot worse.

Two things have surprised me throughout this entire experience. One being how defensive I got when random people noticed my husband’s sling and asked what happened. Mind ya business. Two is how people respond after THEY’VE asked the question.

So how is he doing? Well, he’s in a lot of pain. We’re trying to do our best to keep his movements limited. Yeah? He’s SO lucky it wasn’t any worse.

How are you (me) holding up throughout all of this? It’s kinda sucky. He’s frustrated about constantly asking me for help and I’m frustrated about reminding him to ask for help so he doesn’t further injure it. Everything’s going to be okay. 

Was he able to return to work? No, the doctor wouldn’t clear him because he can’t lift his arm above his head. We’re a little stressed about an extra three weeks off. It could’ve been a lot worse, work won’t let him go. 

Over and over again the same thing, he’s so lucky it wasn’t worse, everything is going to be okay, it could’ve been way worse, over and over and over again. For the record, you don’t know if it’s going to be okay or not, nobody has a crystal ball they can look into and see that in fact everything will be okay. So. Hush it.

I’m a little surprised about how frustrated it made me, like why ask the question if you don’t want the truth? How come when we answer with the truth about our pain and discomfort it makes YOU so uncomfortable you fumble for a response? What if you just said nothing and sat in the suck with us for a moment?

I remember the friends who didn’t try to pull out some positive remarks to help “remind me of the bright side,” or try to give me some crap about life’s lessons. It meant more to me when their response was, “This sucks, I’m sorry. What can I do?”  Even if the answer was nothing, the simple acknowledgment of the suckiness made it feel less sucky, because it does suck and that’s okay.

 

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

Join my new magic friendship portal (a.k.a email list but that sounds boring) if you’d like to be my virtual penpal. You’re guaranteed good eats, embarrassing truths and a few more takeaways from your friend Ramblin. Sign up here. 

Come be my friend on Instagram. I  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. 

Glee, Cyndi Lauper, Tears & Why

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I found my Glee soundtrack CDs again and had my own little mini concert this morning that took me down memory lane. Just as I was really getting into Cyndi Lauper’s True Colors something clicked and I started to cry, which is really fucking annoying when you’re trying to win a Grammy for best new Karaoke Artist before work.

This whole ‘learn to be vulnerable’ and ‘feel shit’ is cramping my IDGAF attitude. Why did I start therapy again? For a long while, I was able to control my emotions and only show anger or happiness with the notion it would be a cold day in hell before I’d let anyone see me cry.

Well, it’s winter and I’m crying to True Colors at 8 a.m. and now blogging about it for the 1,000 of you to read about. So this must be Hell.

Instead of ignoring the tears, telling myself to suck it the fack up, and beating myself up for getting emotional… I did what Daring Greatly, Braving The Wilderness, and Girl Wash Your Face asks you to ask yourself: why am I getting emotional. Can you identify the why?

So while I continued to belt out the lyrics, and cry, I tried to string together what was running through my head and how it could be related to my now puffy eyes and running nose. And realized I was thinking about my upcoming trip to Florida and how it was going to be strange to possibly see people that know me, who have a history with me and have seen some of my worst days, and how familiar it would all feel.

And how uncomfortable that familiarity felt.

My thoughts also wandered to a family that welcomed me as their own. We had Wednesday night dinners and a no cell phone rule during dinners. They took me in as one of their own and I started to imagine what it would be like to see them all again.

It made me happy and warm to imagine walking into her home again…cue tears.

I chewed on the uncomfortableness with familiarity and why happy and warm would make me weepy…and came to the conclusion this is one of the parts of me I killed off a long time ago in order to protect myself from getting emotionally hurt. Let’s break it down.

Uncomfortableness with familiarity: it’s no secret I spent a lot of time saying goodbye because of the excessive moving from state to state, deployments, and then regular goodbyes of life regarding friendships, and family relationships. I coped and overcompensated by learning to never get attached to one place, person or thing.

Happy and warm: something inside of me enjoyed the idea that I’d be around people who knew me and have known me for a while. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been around familiar faces and places. Florida and this home are nostalgic.

Conclusion: Never getting attached to a place, person or thing made it easier to leave (because undoubtfully I’d be leaving again so why get dependant on a relationship or home that I know won’t last?) with the least amount of emotional turmoil. It let me feel independent from those emotions. Does that make sense?

I got weepy because I let myself feel it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The One With Luke (Not Skywalker) – Someone Like You

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Hello friends! By the time you’re reading this, I will be just waking up from the annual Sleep Out fundraiser I participate in each year that benefits homeless youth programs at Covenant House California. If you’d like to support my Sleep Out campaign for homeless youth, you can donate here. There’s still time! <3

Every other Friday a new episode will air with a new voice sharing their story of surviving life on the streets AND how they got back on their feet. This show is all about answering these three questions: who are the homeless, how did they become homeless, and how do we begin to end homelessness?

This week on Someone Like You we meet Luke. A great dude who was born and raised in Terre Haute, Indiana, with a small stint in Missouri. He was a part of the Jump Rope Club and was a running back on his high school’s football team.

Luke was a pleasure to talk to, I can’t even begin to describe how much fun I had joking back and forth with him. There was so much laughter, he’s a good dude. That being said, he’s walked a lot of life and I want you to hear his story. After building a relationship with someone in the music industry he hopped on a plane to L.A. to chase his dreams.

It went south moments after he landed in the entertainment capital of the world.

The interview format is a little more casual this episode, trying to figure out what format is more pleasurable for those listening. So let me know how you like this episode layout versus the previous four episodes.

There is nearly 6,000 homeless youth searching for a safe place to sleep each night in Los Angeles, and nearly 4.2 million young people will experience a form of homelessness within the next year and I’m willing to bet these kids are a lot like you and me. The solution starts with us and I truly believe we’re better together.

Welcome to the fifth episode of Someone Like You. I’m glad you’re here. 

PS: If you haven’t subscribed, rated or reviewed the podcast please do so now! Thanks, friends! I’ll see you back on the radio in two weeks for another voice to meet.

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

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

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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.”

I 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! 

 

 

 

Give Yourself A Break – Strive For Imperfection, Instead

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This morning on my drive to work I was catching up on one of my favorite podcasts, Jen Gotch Is Okay…Sometimes. It’s described as a podcast that “is weird and original and funny and honest—just like me.  Each week I’m going to get in your ear, tell you about my fears, my pain, my triumphs and hopefully in the process help you become more self-aware, build your own emotional intelligence, and more than anything else, FEEL LESS ALONE.”

It drops every Tuesday and has become one of my favorite listens on the drive to work. I missed this Tuesday’s episode so I caught up this morning and wow, did it hit home and put into perspective what I was blogging about yesterday that I didn’t know at the time I was blogging about. Does that make sense? 

If you missed it, yesterday’s blog Cutting Loose Ends talked about how I’ve been struggling with carrying the thoughts and opinions of others while trying to fight the urge to self-isolate and block out. Let’s not get it twisted, it’s still annoying how much people dump on unsuspecting souls. The trick is to not let it stick and define you.

Yesterday I think was I was blogging about (but didn’t know it at the time) struggling with perfectionism and after this morning’s episode about striving for IMPERFECTION, it gave me some perspective on what I wrote about yesterday, weird right?

Here’s why letting go of perfectionism will help me let go of other people’s actions:

Trying to ‘live up’ to other people’s expectations is a waste of damn time. I want to be successful both personally and professionally. This need to excel at excellence means trying to do everything to the best of my ability, a.k.a. as close to perfect and efficient as possible and I don’t want to let anyone down so I put a lot of value in what others think and say about me (which pains me to write because ew, I wish this wasn’t true) and forget I do this, hence yesterday’s frustration.

This does nothing but distracts me from my own inner voice. I know me, so I should listen to her more often because when I’m constantly filling my head with what others have put on me, it stifles my inner thoughts and feelings. So fuck that shit, I need to be more self-aware so I can internally combat this.

She continues on to say:

“What if we just decided to be imperfect?”

Being comfortable with being imperfect actually helps us achieve more since we’re not overwhelming ourselves with undue pressure. “Let’s not worry so much,” Jen says. “Let’s not try and strive for something that actually isn’t achievable because you just end up feeling awful all the time.”

“We still need to have aspirations, but what if what we aspired to was to be better than great and less than perfect? I think we could manage that.”

She lists three sweet spots to focus on while striving for imperfection, here they are:

  1. Say no to the ‘having it all’ culture – this doesn’t help you focus on the now. When you focus on the ‘having it now’ aspect of life, it forces you to dismiss the achievements of today and yesterday and leaves you feeling never enough or satisfied. Let’s collectively agree to knock this behavior off!
  2. It’s okay to fail – all I have to say about this one is if you never fail how are you supposed to learn? Growth comes from standing up after falling and learning from your mistakes. Let’s all agree to fail a little harder!
  3. Done is better than perfect mentality – I suck at this one, it was even hard to write, but I can acknowledge what it’s trying to convey. If you get tied up in all the little details nothing will ever move forward. This isn’t promoting laziness, it’s promoting to take a breath in the middle of that big project and acknowledge the fact it’s not going to be perfect no matter how hard you strive for it (project, relationship, the dream) to be. Focus on completing it, not all the little tiny ways it’s going to be a shitshow.

Hopefully, this helps you in the same way it helped me peel back the foggy layer that was suffocating my brain yesterday. Gotch ended the episode by asking her listeners to ditch perfectionism and do ‘all of the things you’re waiting to be perfect, to do.” Challenge accepted, and I hope you join me.

Now to keep up with my promise to practice gratitude to fight my tendency to forbode joy: Currently feeling gratitude about seeing my brother-in-law tonight and having a cookout! What are you feeling gratitude towards? Let me know in the comment section, below. 

Cultivate it.

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