In many, many ways, I feel not like the person I ever expected myself to be, and very different from how I felt even five years ago.
On the other side of that token, some things absolutely never change. As was true when I was a child, I still love to read, snuggle/talk to cats, and cross stitch.
It seems that others’ perceptions of me are largely opposite my own. I know that my thoughts are quite negative quite a lot of the time, and I try most of the time to present my truth honestly to those around me. Yet frequently others comment on how positive, happy, and fun I am. Just in the last couple of weeks a coworker said to me, “You’re like our mascot!”
My diet comes down to my fluctuation between craving salt and then craving sugar. Back and forth, forever – and the more processed the better.
Chores/errands that I don’t hate doing: laundry, dishes, vacuuming, putting gas in the car, writing checks then finding stamps to pay bills. My lack of extreme dislike for these tasks of course does not mean that I tackle them with any great haste or regularity.
I am an incredibly messy person, and I hate it and would desperately like to change it. I have a high tolerance for messes, hence their constant presence around me, but that doesn’t mean they are doing any favors for my mental health or feelings of self worth, and I do very much wish for a calmer, tidier space.
I never thought I would find myself lacking in friends, but I feel deeply disconnected, isolated, jealous, and left out a lot of the time. I really, really need to get back to a place where I am in regular communication with several people who make me feel good and for whom I feel genuine compassion and affection for in return. It is imperative that something change in this department of my life.
The primary activities that I can generally count on to spark joy for me are: petting Max (God, I LOVE that cat!), reading, cross stitching, exercising, and drinking beer or white wine. Everything else is a toss up these days.
I never thought that squats and deadlifts would be such a big part of my adult workout routine, and I resisted incorporating such humdrum movements into my life for a long time, but I finally am OK with it and actually really love working out with weights several days a week. Nothing, though, offers the specific brand of stillness that comes after a run.
My taste in music is all over the place. Christian, pop, country, classical, indie, folk – I’ve said many times that were it not for music and a sense of humor, the human race would have died out a long time ago. Praise the good Lord in heaven above for music.
My favorite compliment to receive is when people tell me I’d be a great teacher. It is both a dream profession of mine and also one I am way too intimidated by and terrified of to ever actually pursue. So when people have the faith in me to be great at something that I think is SO HARD and special and valuable, it means a lot to me.
That said, the only career I ever actually consider for myself outside of writing is to be a children’s librarian. I mean, I already read, dress, act, eat, cry, and watch TV like a child…I might as well be handing out recommendations to them on what to be reading.
While we’re on the subject, I don’t think I’m good with children, but when I interact with one who enjoys reading, I become slightly better at carrying on a conversation with that particular child. I am now best friends with that kiddo, and we have a lot of Ramona and Bad Guys and Matilda to discuss, thank you.
I can really enjoy hiking, when I’m in shape. If I’m out of shape, I HATE hiking and you’re best advised to not join me.
I am an extremely tough sell when it comes to podcasts. I'm not an auditory learner, and I think it’s incredibly hard to regularly produce content that is palatable for listeners, no matter how funny, smart, endearing, or interesting the podcaster is. It seems there needs to be a very specific balance of bringing a genuine, relaxed persona to the mic while also letting oneself go off script, all the while having some sort of loose agenda in place for each episode.
Our society has become extremely self-righteous in recent years, and I don’t care for it. It seems we spend a lot of time telling people how to live, giving instructions to fellow adults the way we would kindergartners. I absolutely want people (including myself) to be more kind, but when for example I see clothing and notebooks and stickers that say “Be Kind,” it bothers me. It feels very hall monitor-ish, and I wish that we could behave in more genuinely kind ways rather than policing each other to do so. To me, sharing messages to "be kind" presumes bad behavior/intention on behalf of the person receiving the message; rather, why can’t we trust and have faith in the person that they will be kind?
I really, really struggle with extreme wealth and am no longer charmed by fame. I think it’s incredibly damaging within our culture that so many of us truly ache for more public attention and more material stuff to our names. These things will not bring peace, and yet we spend so much of our being believing that they could.
Inside Out is my favorite Pixar movie, and it makes me cry every time, but not during the scene that makes everyone else lose it. I have never cried at Up or Toy Story 3, but I did cry during The Good Dinosaur. I’ll let you psychoanalyze me however you wish with that information.
Only a certain number of people have seen me cry in my life – I mean, we’re talking a small group – but indeed I do cry a lot. Way more often than my peers, I would be willing to bet. Interestingly, immediately following a tearful session, I don’t look like I’ve been crying at all, however if I have a heavy bout of crying, the next day my eyelids will be super puffy, like a muppet’s.
The older I get, the less confident I am in a lot of my decisions. I joke that I peaked in middle school, in terms of my self esteem and social skills, and I’m not actually really joking, Friends. When I was younger I had more time to fulfill my dreams and goals, and I could confidently say I was going to do all these wonderful and brave things because all those lofty things were always in the future. I didn’t have to make good on them. Now I’m several years and milestones down the road, and have watched myself not do a lot of stuff I thought I might, so I don’t trust myself to suddenly be better about that.
All-or-nothing thinking is my jam. I’m really good at it. Curiously, it is really not good for me.
One of my greatest personal life mysteries is that I used to LOVE dancing, and was quite naturally good at it, but that is no longer true. Now this skill (and the freedom that comes with it) eludes me. I don’t grieve this loss as much as I used to, but I definitely still scratch my head at it. I doubt my sweet moves will ever come back, but who knows.
I am baffled at my newfound social anxiety and discomfort around people in various situations – many permutations of which used to make me feel happy and good, excited. I wrestle with this reality daily.
There are a lot of things that I found abhorrent in history books I read in my youth, but when faced with similar evils developing in real time in the modern world around me, I find it frightening and not at all simple to decide how I should behave or react. When the noise of the world gets louder around me, I often find myself drawn to the notion that being quiet is the most helpful path. It is a true challenge today to discern when it is necessary, effective, or healing to speak about something (particularly when the digital soapbox is there for us at all times to step onto), but I think it’s a question we should pay more heed to.
Lately I struggle frequently with being angry, annoyed, and frustrated when others have things too easy – one might say I am jealous, because I am – but then I also know that I absolutely don’t want that person’s life – so…I’m not jealous? But I am jealous. Anyway this is something I could really afford to work on.
If I could change something about my physical self, it would be to drastically reduce the frequency and severity of my headaches. Mercy. These things suck.
Until last summer I wanted nothing to do with plants and the caring of them. Just today I bought some more potting soil, a ceramic pot and matching saucer, and a "string of pearls" succulent to add to my patio collection. The green color (my fave) of the leaves, the smell of the dirt, the satisfaction of pruning and repotting and rotating and watering and seeing growth and change and improvement? I'm in. Absolutely life-giving and good for my hard-to-influence attitude.
Since day one of being Bailey, I have pursued the hobbies and books and music that have interested me, without regard for whether others might have something to say about whether those things were cool, worthy of my time, etc. I credit my parents and my brothers with modeling and fostering this specific determination, and while it is so ingrained in me that I hardly notice it, when I do reflect on it (and watch others engage in things they find boring in an effort to feel accepted) I am so. deeply. grateful.
You will rarely hear me talking about politics, sports, or...I don't know, Coachella. You will without a doubt hear me talking about my cat and whatever book I’m reading at the moment. It does not matter whether or not you ask.
Color sparks automatic joy for me. The brighter the better and the more hues we can put side by side the more serotonin my brain will be producing. If I ever declare myself to be a woman with a closet full of black clothing, assume I’ve had a lobotomy.
There were definitely many challenges that came with moving across state lines at ages 9, 14, and 16, and to a degree I think I will always be picking apart the ways in which my adolescence was not linear, but I have never stopped finding connections in my adult relationships that I wouldn’t otherwise had I not been a student at so many schools, a member at so many churches, an employee at so many jobs. It is a complicated gift, but one that absolutely keeps on giving, and always will, I know it.
When it comes to concerts, I genuinely prefer a venue that is standing room only. It’s always more intimate and special and brings joy and peace and (ironically) quiet to my heart.
On that note (ha), while I have changed my tune (ha, again!) about a lot of things in Los Angeles after living here for many years, I do still love that we are a hub where so many musical acts come to perform. So other than lesser known country acts (who are more likely to play in Nashville), I have frequently been able to see artists who I love that I wouldn’t necessarily have been able to see in a smaller city.
Alex tells me I’m a great audience member at stand up comedy shows, because I laugh loudly and a lot. So keep that in mind if you ever need a seat filler at your event. I’ve also been asked to get the ball rolling with baby shower games, karaoke, etc. It’s like people think I’m not shy or something.
I’ve had great fun planning the nitty gritty details for several events celebrating people I love — a surprise 40th, bachelor/ette parties — but I have no interest in doing it professionally.
For some reason I very specifically love to make things out of construction paper, poster board, paints and markers. Working with those media just gets me into a stay-up-all-night, childlike type of focus. When I was making outer space decorations for my nephew’s fifth birthday (which no one asked me to do), Alex said, “How do we get you this excited about your writing?”
I never thought the team I grew up cheering for would win three Super Bowls in my lifetime, but remarkably here we are. And I’d like to say for the record to the haters out there that these are not the Chiefs I grew up with, OK? None of us saw this coming.
I never thought life would be nearly as hard as it has proven to be. Even though I have been largely protected from trauma and grief thus far, I skew toward a depressed or anxious state of being, which often makes things especially difficult for me. I am not one to make five-year or ten-year or even next-year plans, I am not confident in big life decisions like getting married or having kids or buying a house, I am able to complete University-level degree programs but way less good at translating those diplomas into careers, and I don't know if I'm doing most things "right" or in a way that best serves me or my loved ones. I will say that one goal/priority I have is to reconnect and build fresh friendships before I turn 40, as I think tending to that element of me will serve as a balm that will ease the pain and angst of a lot of the rest of life's...stuff.
And finally, after nearly four decades of comparing notes with others, I can say with absolute certainty that I am just so, so blessed and lucky to have grown up in the family and home that I did. It was a traveling home that toured Kansas, Colorado, Missouri, and hey! Kansas again!, but it was affectionate, safe, healthy, warm, fun, silly, filled with soda pop and Nintendo and hugs and kind, encouraging words and prayers and wrestling boys and purring cats and casseroles and an old-timey service bell that was deemed "the sick bell." The sick bell sat upon the tray of food served in bed to one who was ill, and it could be rung in case the infirm needed something while the rest of the family dined downstairs in the kitchen. Even when we felt our very worst, we were given permission to call to one another for help, and the muffled chatter coming up through the floorboards was a refrain declaring that our tribe was ever nearby to answer that call. Mom, Dad, K, P, R, J, J, C, A, J, L, O, C, M & L, I love you. Thanks for seeing me through my first 39 years. Xoxox
You certainly were at your peak in junior high. Robb and I marveled at the Brewer kids, especially you. God, family, and friends were honored and respected in your house. (And don’t forget laughter.)
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