Why caring about current events is kind of like death.

Within the past few years, I have made an active effort to become more educated and informed about current and world events.  This decision was well overdue, and came due to an unfortunate realization that I am officially an adult, with no excuse for being ~*~blissfully unaware~*~ (or just plain ignorant, either works).

But here’s the crazy thing- I never actually decided to care.

Much like how death is a side effect of pretty much every medication on the market, apparently caring about important things is just a side effect of knowing about them.  I never wanted this, I never signed up for it.  All I wanted was to be informed, to know what other people were talking about, to try to understand why they were so heated and passionate about these things.  I never actually wanted to care!

But then one day I’m sitting there reading about a mom who took her daughter to the hospital for stitches after a boy at school hit her.  And I’m reading about the desk clerk who tells the little girl “he probably hit you because he likes you.”  And I’m reading about how the mom is angry and suggesting that this is how the cycle of justifying domestic violence begins.  And suddenly I’m not just reading, I’m feeling.  Suddenly I’m pissed off too, because she’s right, this is how it starts, and it’s wrong.  Then, before I know it, I’m posting articles and videos and links to things because I want other people to know what I know- and I realize that I’ve become the person I hated for the first 90% of my life.

But here’s the other crazy thing- the more I care about the world around me, the less I care about other people’s opinions of me.  Because no, Jason from Rodney E. Thompson Middle School (go jaguars), I don’t care that you think I’m an idiot for my opinion on gender equality, because there’s a bigger issue at hand here where kids are being raised in a society that tells them they can and can’t do certain things because they identify as male, female, or other (ALSO DID YOU HEAR WHAT HAPPENED IN SUDAN TODAY, JASON???).  It’s like the more I invested my emotional energy in things on a larger scale, the less space I had for the petty things that I used to care about, which was actually pretty cool.

Here’s the last thing, and it’s actually not that crazy- sometimes being informed and caring about so many things sucks, because you suddenly have a wealth of knowledge about things that suck (e.g. injustice in our country’s legal system, how cow farts are destroying our planet- not even kidding go watch Cowspiracy on Netflix, etc.).  But even though it sucks, I promise it’s always worth it.  Because although being informed has a bunch of crappy side effects including actually having to care about things, having to learn about sad/scary/unfair events in the world, and sometimes having to put your thang down/flip it/and reverse it when new information makes you realize you were wrong, it also has one amazing outcome that makes all the risk worth it- dedicating your energy and time to things so much bigger than yourself, with the potential to make a real difference in the lives of others.

An open letter to myself, and you too.

Never have I ever blogged before, but today I have something to say and I think it’s important so here we are. Recently, I’ve been struggling with my self-image and my self-concept, a struggle that I observe in a lot of the people around me on a regular basis. In learning to define myself as an individual I’ve decided a few things.

I am the only one who can define my self-concept. After spending the majority of my young adult life in relationships, I find myself in this weird place where I don’t have anyone else to help me define myself. I’ve moved away from home, I’m single, and I’m no longer a member of the various social groups who have thus far defined me as a person. This is hard. I can define a lot of vocabulary words, but defining who I am based solely on my own self-image is seriously tough. I’ve honestly never consciously done it before so I’m setting some rules for myself.

I am not defined by the number on the scale or the size of my jeans. This is so much easier said than done. I can’t count the number of days where my happiness has been made or broken by my morning weigh in. I will no longer allow my weight and my size to define my self-worth. Instead, from here on out, I will define myself by the number of people I make laugh, how deeply I love, and how hard I work to achieve my goals. This decision is not something that will just happen, I recognize that it is a conscious choice I will have to make every single day and it’s something that I will always have to work to achieve, but I think it’s worth it.

Now that I’ve talked about myself, let’s talk about you. YOU are not defined by the number on the scale or the size of your jeans. When people look at you they see so much more than your size- they see how your smile lights up a room or how you go out of your way to help those around you, they see your true beauty. What YOU need to do is to learn to accept that. To learn to accept that the people around you know that you are more than your body type and they want to know YOU. This is where your self-concept comes in. First you need to decide who you are and who you want to be. If those two things don’t match up, change it. And I don’t mean by going on a diet or by dying your hair- I mean be the kind of person you look up to. Be the kind of person you can be proud of. And stop waiting for “some day” to do it. Your life is today. Your life is now. Do it now. Be that person. Respect yourself, love yourself, and don’t waste another minute restricting your self-worth to a meaningless stupid number.