My 8 Wedding Summer

As some of you know, I have a younger sister who likes to go against the grain. God love her, but it's true, and she will be the first to admit it. She's a rebel with many causes. Always has been, always will be. So... true to form, about a year ago, she came to my family to tell us she and her boyfriend... were engaged... to be married... before me... her older, single, sister.

Well, this wild child kicks off my summer of hell, wait... I mean, my summer of 8 weddings. And while I love and completely adore every single one of my friends and family who have decided to leap into the world of matrimony, I fear for my own mental well being in the months ahead.

"Why?", you ask. "Weddings are a blast.", you say. To which I will respond, "In theory, you are right." But I am certain this theory will be proven wrong, beginning with the conversion of my sister from Miss to Mrs.

I am submitting to the court, Exhibit A, "The life pressures of a young adult."

I remember the stress and anxieties I began to feel in the middle of my Senior year of high school, when family and friends started to inquire about my college plans, dreams, and future aspirations. Being that I am usually a hot mess, and don't normally plan out my next meal until my stomach has been grumbling for a good hour or so, I did not enjoy these interrogations in the slightest form of the word. I am a "one step at a time", "take things day by day" kind of extrovert. The word "plan" and I, do not get along.

I'll admit, I bring entirely too much stress upon myself due to this organizational deficiency, and it's definitely something I am working to improve upon daily (I am proud to say I now carry a pocket planner in my purse and I even check it everyday), however, I do feel that every inch of my life cannot and should not be minimalized and categorized into a minute-by-minute itinerary. I feel that when I try to embrace this "Type A" lifestyle and plans fall apart or chaos ensues or the system breaks down, I have major meltdowns, to which I am ill-equipped to cope.

Of course, I have dreams and hopes for my life, but I've learned that little to nothing in this world is guaranteed, so ya gotta just roll with the punches, for lack of a better cliché.

For some reason, detailed plans are expected of us 20-25 year olds and if we even elude to the fact that we may not have one in effect, a label of social leprosy is stamped upon our foreheads, and we are instantly regarded as someone who needs assistance, requires restructuring, or just needs to get their act together.

So, while I can't wait to celebrate the event of my younger sister entering into a new stage in her life, I am dreading explaining to people why as an older sibling, for now, I'm complacent with where I am in my life. 

Honestly, I feel the reason why so many marriages do not work out nowadays is because of this enormous amount of pressure. Being a 25 year old woman, the pressure is on and steadily persistent from the "accomplished" and "successful" peers to settle down, meet that special person, buy a home, take summer vacations, achieve promotions at work, etc. Of course, all of these things are goals that I eventually want to be able to cross off a list, but if they are not reached within a certain time-frame, many young adults either shamelessly exploit themselves on countless dating websites in attempts to find a half decent suitor or enter into a panic and voluntarily commit themselves to a psychiatric ward.

Shouldn't we be more concerned with the impact we are making on the lives of others and on our community daily? 

It's an idea that I think gets lost somewhere along the way. We are definitely in the age bracket of self-absorption, trying desperately to find our way, but I fear that our connect with the rest of the world is forgotten when we are so concerned with personal gain and benefit. It's a very scary thought.

So, I will speak on the behalf of the girls (and guys) who are in their mid-twenties... be it, they are single and loving it, or in a healthy, loving, un-married, un-cohabitated relationship, or happily working at a job that does not fall under their career field of choice, or hopeful of having children one day but in no rush to get pregnant, or still renting a one-bedroom shanty downtown (and in my personal instance, almost all of the above)... As much as we love you Planning Patricia's and Pete's and have the utmost respect for the decisions you have made for your own life, I will assure you... We are fine. We are happy. And we will figure out the details of our life when we can.

That is all.

There's being good, and then there's being Brian.

I've been gone for awhile. Symbolically "lost", if you will. I was stuck in a place full of miscommunication, heartache, anger, sadness, confusion, and bitterness. What happened that could have possibly brought me to such a state of being? Well, most people blame their problems on a streak of bad luck; one thing after another... but in reality, for me, it was merely a strong case of self-consumption. I blamed my problems on jerks, on the president, on the economy, on my upbringing, on my good heart, on the American educational system, on the snow, and on anything and anyone but myself. I became absorbed with the idea that this time in my life was "Nicole Time". I felt that enough was enough, I had paid my dues, been through all the toil and hardship I could take, and now life owed me big time.

Oddly enough, life did not get this memo. I was duped by acquaintances I thought I knew, let down by friends I trusted, hurt by loved ones, and I had no idea what to do about it. I found myself in a rut, asking the heavens above, "Why me?! What did I do to deserve all of these craptastic things? When will things start going my way? I'm a good person, I deserve good things!"

I ate A LOT of Oreos.

This thought has been pondered by many wise people before me: Why do bad things happen to good people?

And many wise people have responded with the ironically inconvenient answer of, "No one knows."

As I was laying in bed, day after day, wallowing in my own self pity... the world kept moving. Good things and bad things were happening to my friends, family, and the world around me. Kindergartners were brutally murdered, my little sister fell in love and got engaged to a boy who lives out of state, friends were diagnosed with illnesses, parents took well-deserved vacations, grandparents were in and out of the hospital, coworkers lost their jobs, and I was abruptly forced to recognize their lives realities, along with my own.

I have no idea if fate and destiny take a hand in our daily lives or if there is some cosmic power that controls everything in the world. Personally, I believe in God. I think God nudges each one of us towards a good direction in life; sometimes we go with it and other times we brush it off. I don't believe that God is the one striking some of us down in hard times, without rhyme or reason... or that God gives better luck to some people rather than others, just because that's the way God is feeling at the time.

Some people disagree with me, and that's okay because I cannot prove myself right or completely off-base. It is just something that I have faith in; an idea that my heart insists is true. It's a tricky subject to discuss because so many people have only known easy and simple lives, while others were forced to graduate from "The School of Hard Knocks". It's all a matter of opinion, of circumstance, and of perseverance and resilience. Therefore, it's no wonder to me that the world is diverse with those who are grateful and those who are jaded.

I myself have tried many different strategies when it comes to handling life, and here is what I feel pays off, rejuvenates, and in turn helps me move forward to happier times...

Goodness.

I fail miserably in my attempts to "Be good" more times than not, but I am trying to make it my highest priority. In life, I want to be good and do good.

What do I mean by this? What is this "goodness" I speak of? What are the stipulations?

Here's how I see it... If you are 64, say "please" and "thank you" to the 17 year old serving you pancakes at iHop, even if they seem unpleasant and moody. If you are 23, late for a meeting, hungover and impatient, help the elderly person who is struggling to use the ATM instead of honking your horn at them. If someone bumps you in a crowded hallway and doesn't bother to say "Excuse me", let it go. Smile at strangers, even if they look at you like you're insane. Release old grudges from your heart. Call your mom and tell her you love her. Think about what you are saying before you say it, and how it will sound to the person you are saying it to. Hug your husband. Learn from your mistakes. Help your neighbor bring in their groceries. Don't make excuses for your poor behavior and don't be so proud that you won't admit when you're wrong. Comfort a friend. Laugh with your siblings. Forgive sworn enemies. Be present and patient in your children's lives. Reflect on your actions daily. Cook your grandparents dinner. Pause when you are in a rush and allow yourself to feel grateful just to be alive.

Most of these things feel like huge hassles 90% of the time. When you start this life-exercise, you will begin by forcing yourself to do these tasks, then you will routinely remind yourself to do them, then you will start involuntarily doing them, and then after awhile... you will realize you are happy when you do them. Why? I don't know. I just know that eventually, the pain-in-the-ass of it all goes away, and you just feel good when you selflessly do good for others.

Bad things will still happen. Something will come along to spoil your fun, ruin your day, and attempt to bring you down. "It's not 'if it happens', it's 'when it happens'"
... And then what?

Well, I have an older brother. His name is Brian. Brian is a very good person. He was born with more health problems than I have fingers and toes. He has had more surgeries over the span of his life than the amount of birthdays I have celebrated. He can't see, so he can't drive. He has a bit of a mobility problem, so he can't play sports. He gets lost instantaneously in unfamiliar settings. He doesn't have many friends his own age. He struggled just to graduate high school.  Most of the time, he can't remember if he brushed his teeth in the morning or fed himself dinner the night before, which means he has to live with my parents, who he loves, but that in itself can be quite a tricky and unpleasant situation from time to time.

HOWEVER... I do not, nor will I ever, feel bad for Brian. Brian has the strongest grasp on life's mysterious and unfair ways out of any person I know. Brian has been knocked down and defeated, told no and dismissed by life's "elite", yet he still gets up and gets after it every single day. He works hard, he gives 110%, he never has ever given up. Why does he do this when he could be coddled, pitied, aided through life's tribulations? Because he knows that he, just like anyone else in this world, has the strength to survive them. This possession of strength is something he is aware of, yet his humbleness prevents him from fully understanding it's phenomenal rarity. I think for the most part, Brian goes to bed every night, just happy he made it through another day, safe and sound.

Brian often has frustrating days, full of inconvenient hurdles, and will come home, walk up to me, give me a smile and a big-bear hug... and he says "Thank you."

When he does this I say, "Brian! What are you saying thank you for? I didn't do anything, ya silly head!"

He shrugs, says "Oh." and walks away.

I always thought he was just confused or trying to be nice to me or something. Only recently did I understand this ritual of Brian's.

According to doctors, Brian almost wasn't.

No matter how good or how bad life is to him, Brian will always be thankful to be here; to be present and to be given a chance.

Some people might look at my big brother and think "Oh, poor guy... he's had such a rough life!", but whenever something negative happens to me now, I remember that Brian is my brother, and he is and has always been a total beast with a heart of gold aaaaaaaaaaand...

... we have the same genetics and he taught me everything I know, so chances are, I can probably be a beast and handle life too.

Blame The Angst On *NSYNC

"It's tearing up my heart when I'm with you. But when we are apart, I feel it too."

Call me crazy, but I don't think at the age of 24 I should still be emotionally identifying with these lyrics. As of recently, I have come to a self-awareness that I'm still as angsty and compelled by irrational emotions as I was at 15. Can you imagine a grown, successful woman, sitting in an office cubical, sobbing and blaring "Quit Playing Games With My Heart" by the Backstreet Boys? Honestly, you shouldn't have to. That is an image that NO ONE should ever have to see. However, that woman, may or may not have been me at one point in recent history.

There are many immature habits which I have yet to outgrow. For instance, ordering chicken fingers and fries at any sit-down restaurant, simply by default... (I get nervous when I look at menus.) But this gut-wrenching heartbreak pattern might take the cake and it's undoubtedly my most difficult bad habit to break. 

Just so you have an idea of the self-inflicting pain I speak of, when I was 16 and a boy hurt me, I wanted the world to know what I was going through, so I would sit in my room, blast some cheesey pop music and post an away message on my AOL Instant Messenger that would look a little something like this...

Fortunately, no one uses AOL Instant Messenger anymore. Unfortunately, Facebook has completely replaced our hours spent chatting online with pals. With this new form of socializing readily available on our iMacs, iPhones, and iPads and over 700 "friends" to "share" my personal life with, it takes all of my mental strength not to post lyrics, music videos, and pictures of myself looking adorably lovable on my page, so the world can see how hot I still look after someone has done me wrong.

The problem is subliminal messaging. Yes! I sure do believe in that crap, as firmly as I believe that Miss Cleo was a phenomenal cosmic power in the psychic world!

As a young naive girl, I can guarantee that 90% of my time was spent with headphones on, engraining the wise words of Justin Timberlake, Hanson, Backstreet Boys, O-Town, 98 Degress, etc. into my hormonal, puberty-stricken mind. Have you ever paid attention to the lyrics of these artists? At the time, I swore that these words spoke to my soul. "Baby when you finally get to love somebody, guess what? It's gonna be me." and "Where's the love? It's not enough. It makes the world go 'round." and let's not forget! ... "Am I original? Am I the only one? Am I sexual?" 

I mean honestly, come on guys... "Show me the meaning of being lonely." ?? ... What the heck does that even mean?! I'm thinking it means the skills of song-writers hit rock bottom in the late 90's and all the while, the lyricists of "Stairway To Heaven" and "Hotel California" were rolling over in their graves.

Here's my theory, I struggle with starting relationships, discarding emotional baggage, and picking myself up after ties have supposedly been severed because these boy bands told me that's how it's supposed to be. In the majority of their songs, the message being sent to the listeners is that when you fall in love, it's going to be with someone that sucks. And that is going to suck for you. And you're never going to get over it. And you're going to cry yourself to sleep at night, wishing that you never met this person, while at the same time thanking the heavens above that you did, because there just isn't anyone out there that could possibly break your fragile heart quite like they do. Because of these boy bands' stupid advice, we do irrational, psychotic, bat-shit-crazy things for our lover's attention, go after unattainable people, and refuse to let go when there isn't a shred of hope left in a relationship.

Ladies and gentlemen, love doesn't have to be this way. When you decide that you are ready to be committed to someone, it should be with someone who is considerate of your stereotypical-pop-culture-emotional instability, who takes this in high regards, and because of this awareness, won't do things to hurt your feelings. Quit wasting your time on The Selfish and patiently await the arrival of The Selfless.

Love should be simple: "You like me, I like you, we like each other, and ALAS! We are happy." 

End. Of. Story. 

Forget the lyrics, forget the gut-wrenching drama. If it's keeping you up at night because you have knots, not butterflies, in your belly, it's time to let it go.

Here's one final a tip, if he sings "I'll never break your heart, I'll never make you cry.", has unnaturally colored, frosty platinum hair, and wears matching windbreaker pants with four of his buddies, run far, far away and never look back.