Falling In Love

This was in my files of my computer...I wrote it a few months ago.

The term ‘falling in love’ has always provoked uneasiness, if not downright fear, in my mind. When I think of falling, I think of helplessness. When you fall, you have lost control. You have thrown caution to the winds and given up your ability to manipulate and influence your surroundings. Someone else might catch you. Or they might not. Then you break. Love is risky business.

…But what about the risk of not taking the risk? You risk being alone and unhappy. Better to take a chance and be unhappy because you got hurt, than to not take a chance and be miserable because you are lonely.

I’ve done both. I have hurled myself into the unknown for the chance of love, and I have remained with both feet firmly planted on the good, solid ground. I think most people experiment with the two, and most probably come to the same conclusion I have. My advice is this: If there is someone waiting at the base of the cliff, beckoning and reaching out to you, strap on some reasonable safety equipment and go for it. But if you find yourself yelling “Somebody catch me! Stop walking away! Come catch me!!” it is likely whoever you are hollering at will not be there to break your fall. Don’t be dumb. Only jump if there is someone there to catch you.

That said, it is a good idea to be selective about who you jump for. Whoever said love happens when prince charming comes along fooled a lot of people into thinking falling for a dirt bag is impossible. It is not a good idea to date a jerk ‘just for fun’, because it is easy to learn to care for anyone if you spend a lot of time with them. Here’s a clue: people are who they want to be. Form relationships with people based on who they are, not who you wish they were. Odds are, they won’t be making any permanent changes anytime soon.

Love can be wonderful and rewarding and fulfilling. Or it can be hell. It depends on where you jump, when you do it, and who (if anyone) is waiting to catch you. Don’t let your heart take over and grind you into the rocks at the bottom. But don’t let your fears squash your hopes for love into oblivion, either. Find a good balance. Think it through. If your mind isn’t screaming “death is near”, you might want to give your heart a little freedom.

I’ve been in love—with the wrong person. Eventually, I had to tell my heart to stop fooling me…we were completely wrong for each other. Our romance was cruel and painful and abusive. We were addicted to hurting each other …but then there were sweet moments, passionate kisses, and breath-stealing thrills. Those wild, exhilarating snatches of bliss kept us coming back to each other. But no matter how many times we broke up and decided to try again, it never worked. It ended in fighting and swearing and crying, cheating and lying and staring blankly at the ceiling. We couldn’t face the fact that we were bad together—but neither of us could fool ourselves that this was how love should be. Eventually, we moved on and dated other people. We tried being friends, but ‘friends’ ended up in a car in a deserted parking lot at night too frequently to ignore.

Love is balanced. Extremes don’t work well with it. When you make decisions concerning love, use your heart and your mind. Don’t mistake passion for love. Love can be passionate, but passion cannot satisfy without the tenderness of love. Be careful with your heart. Remember that you can fall in love with someone who is not good for you. In these cases, let your mind guide you. Break free from the pain of abuse and mistrust. Lend your love to someone loyal, tender, and patient. Not a “maybe I’ll catch you, if I feel so inclined”, but a “I’m here. Trust me. I love you.”

Love is good and right. When you know in your mind and in your heart, when you trust the familiar face below, leap. Land on your feet, and take their hand of support and assurance that they will not retract through a lifetime of adventures. In the end, smart lovers win. Be brave.

Homecoming

Homecoming
He’s flying back. Coming home.
Weary, worn, but coming home.
Caught in time in the dark haze
That obscures the killer’s face.
An empty war, a stranger foe,
Fighting men he’ll never know.
A lifeless man's hands grow cold--
Seeing death turns young hearts old.
Coming home to places once
Full of joy and innocence
Shakes his world; What, what is life?
Can he live when brothers died?

He’s flying back. Coming home.
Distant, numb, but coming home.
Faces blur and meaning fades
From the life his brother saved.
Then through the crowd runs a child
Arms outstretched, her dark hair wild.
He scoops her up, lifts her high
While she clings onto his tie.
Her mother laughs, draws his gaze.
Her eyes bright, her smile amazed.
She grounds his world; what is pain?
Can he doubt when she remains?

I've been writing a paper on military mortality for my English class--an encyclopedic article. I have to keep it purely educational, and I can't impose any of my opinions or feelings in it. I just want to give something to the women, children, parents, friends, and family that have worried and waited for their soldier to return to them. I hope that my article can provide knowledge for those that just want to know how likely death is. And I hope this can provide some source of whatever my article doesn't cover.

Or maybe I'm kidding myself, like Kieren says, and this is really about me--my worries and my insecurities, and my hope that, like in the poem, the soldiers of America can come home safe. Especially mine.

College. :)

I. Love. College.
I love my roommates. I love late-night runs to the creamery for munchies, intense conditioning classes taught by me, and nonstop quoting of kid history. I love baking cookies and running through the sprinklers together. I love our study sessions and our movie and game nights. I love it when Kieren plays the piano Sunday mornings while the rest of us sing, and I love planning trips to the temple. I love our dance parties and our FHE group. I love laughing to myself when I hear Haley talk or giggle in her sleep. I love love love love love my roommates!!

There is so much to do here, which makes dating or hanging out with friends so much more fun. I've gone to volleyball games (free pizza!), played ultimate frisbee, gone on scavenger hunts (parkour!!), hiked the Y, thrown up on the rides at Brigham square carnival, watched BYU football, gone put-put golfing (we saw a snake eating a fish!) , attended tons of dances, eaten cotton candy at the latinoamericano festival, watched kung foo panda at the varsity theater, and gone to the temple.

Classes are exciting and slightly disturbing (if anyone ever dumps termites on your desk, make sure you have an escape route!), but I am enjoying them so much. I just added a geology class yesterday, which should be interesting... I had to get another 3 credits because my dance teacher told me I had to drop her class after I pulled my hamstring...apparently I won't be able to heal fast enough to keep up...? ...anyway, Chris took the class I am taking, and he says it is fun and easy and there are lots of hikes up the canyon, with little or no homework....plus it is a GE, so I think this was a good choice... I will have more free time now, anyway, now that I'm not taking that 2 hr a day dance class, and I am going to work out more with my roommates, so I don't think I'll get too fat.

I'm excited for this week. I have so many things on my to-do list, but I think I will be okay, and I have the weekend to look forward to...Chris asked me to go to the Indian festival downtown, should be lots of exciting food!

Anyway, I have to go to Book Of Mormon, I have a ton of work to turn in and more to be assigned. Life!

Respite

Sink into pain
When hope runs dry
Ride thrills untamed;
Explore the sky.

But when you rise
From darkened well,
And when your highs
No longer swell--

When shadows flee
Or bright skies cloud,
And what you see
Has no false shroud...

There stillness bides
If you would seek;
When peace you find,
Drink sweet relief.


I want to dedicate the above poem to the seekers. I wish them contentment.

--Rosalind Decker
August 6, 2011

Just one Day

My body is alive.
I feel the energy twisting around in my core.
My heart is beating and my blood is flowing and my nerves are tensing to react to my world.
I open my eyes.
Lying in bed, I breathe in the joy of BEING. I smile, snatch up my glasses, and sit up.
My room is cleanish. It has a few shirts on the floor and yesterday's skinny jeans wadded up where i dropped them before climbing into bed. My mousse and hairspray are on my bookcase instead of the basket where they belong, because they are closer to the mirror there. My bed is under the window, my clothes are color coded into place in the closet.
Same old.
And it doesn't work for me.
Today is different. I am alive today, and the world is watching me. My room can't be like this...It represents me. It's time for a change.

Around 7 a.m. the house wakes up, and my furniture is rearranged, my floor is vacuumed, and my not-good-enough clothes are in bags to get dumped somewhere else.

I don't have plans, I don't have anywhere to be, but I shower and do my hair and makeup so I look like the knockout I am, because there is no WAY I'm staying around the house today in THIS mood. Today, I will be out there being fun and gorgeous and spontaneous, and everyone else will be rushing to keep up with me. Today, I am at the top of my game. I'm going to kiss a boy....I'll decide who later. I'm going to buy a new outfit because anything I already have, I ALREADY HAVE. Something new. Something hott....just not as hot as me. Duh, that's not possible.
Welcome to Mania.
---
I've called 6 girls and no one can go to the mall.
Losers. So what if I didn't plan this yesterday? I want to go, and I'll go without them...I don't want to wait for them anyway.
So I go by myself. My head is up, and I have the sparkle in my eye that says "I know you're looking at me. Can't help being awesome."
But all the stores suck. And I can't find anything I like.
Panic.
My stomach tightens, I feel shaky, and I am angry and frustrated and I am NOT leaving this building until I find something that WINS.
If I don't, I've failed, I'm fat, I'm ugly, I'm worthless, nothing fits, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I hate malls!!!!
Panic.

Well, I know I'm being silly.
I go to Wal Mart and buy one of their cute v-neck tees that are super loose... only 5 bucks, but it'll give me the same calm and satisfaction. It's buying something that looks good on me... not as good as me, but the world isn't perfect.

Later that night, I'm driving home from something that didn't feel as good as it was supposed to and what if I'm bored of kissing and I'm irritated and completely unsatisfied.

My core is uncomfortable.
And my mind is uneasy...

I don't feel fabulous, I feel depressed and I want everything I can't have. I don't have a jawline and my stomach isn't flat and I hate clothes, why can't everyone just be naked, I look better naked than in clothes anyway, clothes make me look fat, and nothing is satisfying, and my stomach won't stop feeling CRAPPY, and I feel lonely and angry and dissapointed.

I don't want a boy toy. I want a relationship.

...but if I had woken up this morning with a boyfriend, I would have called him to break up.

I lean against my bed, and, feeling bored, lonely, but still fascinated with how awesome my body is, I start picking at the little not-so-awesome things. I hate that mole...I want it to go away, It looks ugly!!

5 minutes later, I'm watching the blood slide down my side from what used to be a little imperfection on my stomach.

That'll scar.

But I feel more relaxed. Pain does that to you. It really does make you feel better... It's a free drug to your brain, a fast yoga class, and a fascinating phenomenon. One second I'm whole, the next I'm bleeding...blood is beautiful. Good invention, Heavenly Father...It is so romantic and sad at the same time.

My brain hurts and I'm tired and irritated and this day sucked.
I fall asleep, staining the sheets, and I wake up to a weary and listless day...

A day in my 16-year-old life.

To My Family

After 13 long years of public school, I am finally finished! I will graduate on May 26^th from Portage Central High School. This is, to say it dramatically, the end of life as I know it. So I have written this letter in gratitude for shared memories of the past, and excitement for adventures to come.

My childhood: the freedom of running barefoot through the dandelion-strewn lawn in Ohio, venturing into the woods to discover my poison ivy allergy, and swinging joyfully on the coveted yellow swing started my life off with a strong love for nature and physical activity. Music introduced itself from the guitar of John Baker, the gentle voices of my parents, and my sisters’ piano practice. In elementary school, I learned the pain people could cause one another. I discovered what it meant to be alone. In middle school, I developed my voice, which people admired, and my dancing, which people discouraged.

High school was a new world…a place where I could be whatever I wanted to be, and more often than not, several things at once. I further developed my voice, intellect, and dancing, until people viewed me as accomplished in all three of them. I struggled to “find myself”, and finally realized that while no set of characteristics could describe me, a dictionary of adjectives could. I made mistakes. I cried and laughed hysterically through minor car accidents, but remained totally calm when my Toyota Camry was totaled. I saw pain I had caused in the eyes of people I cared about. I felt the damage I had inflicted on my relationship with Heavenly Father. I did what I could to make up for my shortcomings, and learned that when I can’t do anything else, I can let it go. In the midst of panic and uncertainty, I somehow found peace within myself. And with it, I found my calling in life—to bring people to acceptance and serenity.

So I leave High School with a love for dance, music, and people, ready to move into a new world where I cook my own food and set my own curfew, and searching for a place where I can use my talents and passion to shut misery out of life and rediscover the feeling of swinging over dandelions, barefoot and covered in rashes, but completely and entirely happy.

I’m terrified and excited about attending Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah this fall. I am so excited to be closer to my sisters, but I will miss my family in Michigan and Indiana. I will miss being irresponsible and stupid, and having friends and family to break my fall. You are a part of my family. You have taken part in my life, and therefore influenced my future. I love you so much, and I am so grateful for the part you have played in my lunatic of a life. I have so many wonderful memories of my childhood, and I am excited to start out on my own and create a new life for myself as an adult. Thank you!

Just chill.

New title. Different, right?

When I started this blog, I had no idea what to name it. I decided on Life, As I Like It because of the play my name came from...but I didn't ever really think of that as the name of my blog.
Unmasked is the name I couldn't think of.

High school builds up a lot of walls for some people. They hide behind status, or pretending to be what people expect. But high school didn't build walls around me. It tore them down.
I remembered what honesty feels like.

The wisest woman I ever met told me, "Rosalind, just be." When I don't know what I am, and I don't know what I would do, I remember to shut up and stop self-analyzing. I remember I don't have to calculate every move I make. I remember that I can do what I need to do and stop worrying about why I do it and how it reflects on my personality. I remember I don't need to choose actions in order to reflect who I am...who I am will come naturally through whatever action I want.

It's a complicated piece of advice, and it's hard to understand. It sounds simple if you don't get it. But for a teenage girl who was always trying to show her character traits through what she did, it was a revelation--I can say something mean when I'm angry, and it doesn't mean that I am a vicious person. I can tear my room apart and throw everything out the window, and it doesn't mean I'm a messy person. Minutes don't define me. And I don't have to discover me. I AM me. So whatever I feel like doing, that is me in that moment....and I don't have to worry about if I am being real or fake, because at that time, that is REAL for me.

I didn't want to over-explain, but I did want to write it so you understand what being is. ...but I guess some people will identify with it, and others won't. Maybe I shouldn't have bothered.
Anyway, my journey to being is incomplete, because it takes every day releasing analysis and accepting myself as real, so it won't ever really be over.

I chose unmasked not because I wore a mask only to others, though that is true, but because I found myself. I found myself in NOT finding myself. I stopped looking. I started existing...or acknowledging my existence. I wonder how many people try to find themselves, when what they should be doing is sitting still and feeling their heart beat and their skin tingle--that is real.

Trying to define ourselves with character traits and hobbies is like trying to shove a batch of cookie dough into a little spoon. It is impossible to capture the vibrancy and elasticity of our humanity. And expecting someone to always act a certain way, defined by their characteristics, is unrealistic. Kind people can be cruel. Optimists can lose hope. That doesn't mean they are kind or cruel, optimistic or pessimistic. The truth is, traits are stupid. I'm not kind. I'm not mean. I'm just me, and different situations will reveal different aspects of me, but that shouldn't make me two-dimensional.

Stop trying to put a name on yourself. The only name you really need is the one on your birth certificate. Stop trying to do what people expect you to do. And by people, I mean you. Stop being a backseat driver, and get in the drivers seat. Live your life, without the constant commentary and analysis.

...advice I can give, but can barely take. Still, what can we do but try? Unmasking is painful. The other word I considered for my blog was bare. Because that is what unmasked is--bare, simple, and there.