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Posts Tagged ‘men’

Part 1 – The redefinition of words to create something else to control and be offended by.

Feminist. You probably have strong feelings when you hear/read this word. What image comes to mind when you think about a feminist? Chances are, this word conjures up either the image of a social justice warrior, fighting to defend the rights of the oppressed women of America, or a fat and ugly free-bleeder who eats men for breakfast. Whatever your opinion in this, I want you to know two things:

  1. I support women’s rights to equality (not that women are the same as men, but should have equal opportunities.)
  2. I do not call myself a feminist.

feminazis

The Redefining of Words

There are many reasons why I do not call myself a feminist, but one that has been on my mind recently (and is fairly easy to address) is that modern feminism relies strongly on the redefining of words and manipulation to encourage young women to view all their problems as a result of oppression and misogyny and not due to any other factors.

Some words that have been modified recently:

  • Friendzoned – I do not know who decided that this word was somehow an attack on women, but it is not. The word itself simply describes when a person (typically a man) has invested time/money/emotion into a girl and has discovered that the girl is only interested in friendship. It is my personal opinion that women tend to invest more in relationships with men that they do not intend to become romantic (“just friends”) than men tend to. A girl might simply think that the guy who stays up late texting her, goes to the mall with her, listens to her cry, and buys her snacks, is just doing what any other friend would do. In my experience, guys do not tend to do things like this for a girl unless they are at least mildly interested in her, and if they start out that way, they will at some time be interested in a relationship, even if he never admits it. Girls, on the other hand, tend to like to talk and can be very comfortable investing time and energy into a friendship with a boy they have no intention of having a romantic relationship with. There is nothing wrong with these tendencies. Girls should try to be more considerate and realize that they may, in fact, be unintentionally signaling to a guy that they are interested when thay are not.

  Somehow, modern feminists have come to the conclusion that a guy saying he was “freindzoned” means that somehow the woman owes him something. What? No. Just no. The concept of wooing a woman may be foreign to Americans, but the idea is that you spend time with someone and do nice things for them in an attempt to get them to like you, not to say that they owe you anything! If you are reading this and thinking “Well, I had this one guy who was like, you need to sleep with me because I was there for you when you were sad!” etc. then that speaks VOLUMES to the type of man that YOU choose to spend time with. I have placed several interested men in the friend category (some without realizing they were interested) and not once have I had someone act as though they owed me anything. Could it be that they were upstanding and respectable guys? No! Never! Men are pigs! But really, if this happens to you, it might be that you lead them on (perhaps unintentionally) or that you make terrible friendship choices.

  • Slut – I saw this one described the other day as “attacking a woman for her right to say yes.” *blinkblink* Just because you have a right to say yes does not mean you aren’t a terrible person for saying yes to every guy who asks. Generally the term is used to describe women (and sometimes men) who are easy (as in, have had sexual interactions with multiple non-serious partners, willing to kiss any guy, etc.) OR who dress to show off far more skin on a regular basis than is generally considered socially acceptable. We live in a society where telling someone that they are wrong is taboo, and heaven forbid a young person ever have to feel shame for their actions.

    It’s like that Kaepernick guy; he has a right to sit for the anthem, but I also have a right to say he’s a dingbat for doing so.

  • Bossy – There is actually a campaign to ban the word bossy. Really. The website for this campaign says “When a little boy asserts himself, he’s called a “leader.” Yet when a little girl does the same, she risks being branded “bossy.” Words like bossy send a message: don’t raise your hand or speak up. By middle school, girls are less interested in leading than boys—a trend that continues into adulthood. Together we can encourage girls to lead.” Bull. Crap. I taught middle school and I have not experienced this phenomenon, it is quite the opposite, in reality. When leaving notes to substitutes, or appointing leaders in my classroom, I usually have to make sure that I have at least one boy on the list, because there is an abundance of girls who are able and willing to lead. I can think of maybe 7 or 8 boys (our of 180 students) who would volunteer to lead or do something. Usually only one in each class.

 The word bossy is defined as: “inclined to domineer (dictatorial), liking to order people around.” A LEADER does not simply tell people what to do; a leader leads by example, encourages and inspires those around them to follow their example, and generally takes the initiative to do something about a problem. A bossy person simply tells people what they should do, “We should play THIS game!” or “No, no, no! When I make my doll say this, you’re supposed to say…” or “Give me some of your candy.” Now, I know that this word is most often applied to girls and I am not entirely sure why, but here are some similar words boys get called: insolent, pushy, arrogant, domineering, aggressive, controlling, cocky, cocksure, high-and-mighty, patronizing, pretentious, pompous, and pig-headed. The connotation of the word bossy indicates that the person thinks they are smarter or they know better than others, and want everyone to do as they say. For a boy, in a world where girls tend to outshine them in the classroom from an early age, putting forth the effort to speak up and risk embarrassment takes a lot of courage. A student who leads and says, “I think this would be a good way to do X” is using their skills and trying to do the best they can, whereas a kid saying “No, we have to do it this way!” is bossy. There is a distinction. Banning the word “bossy” is not going to help a little girl’s self-esteem.

Do you know what would help women boost their self-esteem? If girls’ magazines were not strictly geared to looks, getting boyfriends, and being sexy/sexual. Instead, why not fill magazines with things like: how to be a good friend, how to dress in ways that flatter your body type, how to succeed in male-dominated careers (or tips on careers that might be difficult for women due to physical limitations), health care tips, what colors complement your skin tone, manners, easy and healthy recipes, tips on job interviews, crafts, tips for young mothers, how to be a good wife, how to spot a man who might not be good for you, quick/easy household organization tips, etc. As a youngun, I LOVED the American Girl magazine. It was great! There were stories, crafts, paper dolls, tips on manners and advice on how to handle tough situations. It was a wonderful resource; they also published tip books, stories about courageous girls (Felicity was my favorite), and had dolls for sale. Unfortunately, few magazines these days are like this.

Instead of redefining words, why not redefine our culture? How about we teach women to respect themselves; that they don’t have to wear five pounds of makeup, have sex, or show off their bodies to be beautiful. Or that it’s ok to say NO to a guy who is interested, and that not having a boyfriend at age 13 does not mean that there is something wrong with you. Or that just because you are waiting for marriage to have sex it does not make you a prude. Maybe we should honor those women who choose to be a stay-at-home-mom or housewife as much as we honor and respect those who choose to pursue a career. Perhaps we should stop insulting women who actually enjoy domestic activities like cooking, and at the same time encourage/empower those who are not great at those domestic activities so that they know they don’t have to be, and know that they have help if they want to learn.

When I was in middle school I was bullied badly. I was chubby, I was (and am) a Christian and did not do some of the things other kids did, I liked reading and nerdy things like Star Trek, and I did not dress like everyone else (partly because I could not afford it, partly because I was modest and not so interested in what was fashionable). I was made fun of for not having a boyfriend; kids would tease me and try to ask me who I liked, or who I would go out with. If my response was “I don’t know him” I was told “You get to know him, that’s what having a boyfriend is for.” I was called fat and ugly, and lost “friends” because I didn’t dress popularly. I even lost friends because I chose not to lie to my parents: I went to a friend’s house and she wanted to watch the movie Stigmata, something I knew I would not have been allowed to watch, but I also did not want to watch it anyway (still don’t). “Your parents won’t know” was the only response my friend gave to my objections. Our friendship pretty much ended that day. In college I was occasionally called a prude, mostly by guys who I was friends with where there was mutual interest, but not the compatibility necessary to justify starting a relationship. Just because two people are attracted to each other does not mean you MUST date, or that you would be good long-term, or that you need to make out. In the long run, I think I have gained respect because I did not have dozens of boyfriends (went on a few dates, though only one lead to a relationship), did not dress immodestly, and held to my standards. Have I made mistakes? You betcha. Many things I wish that I had not done, or had done differently. Did I sometimes compromise? A few times, and I regret it completely.

Changing the mindset of Americans will do far more for young girls than it will to change the words that we use to describe the mindset. The Bible definitely got it right: Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks. Changing the words we use will not change the hearts of the people that use them.

Check out this article on 8 Ways Fascist Feminists are Ruining America’s Women.

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Men are the stronger sex; they work, build, and provide for their families. They don’t cry. They don’t get overrun by “feelings” like women do. Men are tough; they are not sensitive and do not get emotionally hurt easily.

Or do they?

Something that I have observed over the years is that there is a little boy inside every grown man. I see it in my husband, I see it in my father, and I see it in many of my friends. The same things that delighted them as a boy, the same things that made them sad, still affect them on the inside, thought they may not show it. My husband delights in fixing things, taking things apart and seeing how they work and then putting them back together (he recently built a computer). From the stories I’ve heard of his childhood, this is something that he has always enjoyed. My father has always loved story-telling: the adventure, the struggle between good and evil, the hero persevering, etc. This shows even now in the things that he writes, and the stories that touch him.

My little brother (now a teenager) was always a very sensitive little boy. He would cry when characters on TV got hurt, and he didn’t like scary movies. He never tortured earthworms, or pulled the wings off of flies, or any of that. He was always considerate of other people and animal’s feelings. One year when he was 8, I had a bad birthday and I cried because no one in my family cared (it was a special birthday too), and I was going to have to make my own cake etc. all by myself. My brother made a card in the shape of an alien (complete with antennae) and wrote inside “greetings earthling, our leader wishes you a happy birthday” and stuck a dollar inside. That card was so very precious to me. I still have it, and the dollar he gave me, as a reminder of the sweet sensitivity of my eight-year-old brother.

The little boys I teach piano to also exhibit some sensitive traits. Very often, if they have a choice between Thomas the Tank engine and Littlest Petshop stickers, they’ll choose the pets! Between Buzz Lightyear and animals, they’ll go with the animals most of the time. Even when they pick the Toy Story stickers they want Ham or Rex or Bullseye more than the others. The sad thing is that many older men (and women) will tell these boys: don’t you want the rocket ship? Or will reprimand them for crying, or for enjoying something that might be a little “girly”.

This is important: the sensitivity of the little boy that you raise will dictate the kindness and courteousness of the man he will become.  That gentle little boy that you treat to respect others, to value life (even the life of a worm), to love his family, and to cry when he sees injustice and suffering will grow into a man who respects everyone, who fights to protect life, and will not stand for injustice. That little boy needs to be loved and nurtured so that he can grow into the type of man our society needs today. There is still a little boy inside of every man. If you look carefully, you may see him. But be careful not to frighten him away.

Here is what the Bible says about living peaceful lives:

1 Corinthians 13:11 – “Finally, brethren, rejoice, be made complete, be comforted, be like-minded, live in peace; and the God of love and peace will be with you.”

1 Thesselonians 5:12-18 – “But we request of you, brethren, that you appreciate those who diligently labor among you, and have charge over you in the Lord and give you instruction, and that you esteem them very highly in love because of their work. Live in peace with one another. We urge you, brethren, admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with everyone. See that no one repays another with evil for evil, but always seek after that which is good for one another and for all people.Rejoice always;pray without ceasing;in everything give thanks; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.”

Proverbs 15:1 – “A gentle answer turns away wrath, But a harsh word stirs up anger.”

For more on this concept read John Eldredge’s “Wild at Heart”.

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“What you have made me see,” answered the Lady, “is as plain as the sky, but I never saw it before. Yet it has happened every day. One goes into the forest to pick food and already the thought of one fruit rather than another has grown up in one’s mind. Then, it may be, one finds a different fruit and not the fruit one thought of. One joy was expected and another is given. But this I had never noticed before–that the very moment of the finding there is in the mind a kind of thrusting back, or setting aside. The picture of the fruit that you have not found is still, for a moment, before you. And if you wished–if it were possible to wish–you could keep it there. You could send your soul after the good you had expected, instead of turning it to the good you had got. You could refuse the real good; you could make the real fruit taste insipid by thinking of the other.”     –from C.S. Lewis’ Perelandra

Perelandra

This is too often true in our lives, particularly my own. We set out to obtain something that we desire…a particular school, a mate, a job, etc., and the one we receive is not what we were looking for in the first place. Often we are so caught up in thinking of the joy we expected to find, that we cannot enjoy what we are given, and so make the blessing we have been given taste insipid by thinking of the other.

Recent developments in my life that pertain to this concept, and that others may relate to as well, include my job, school, and my relationships.  I needed a job in early May, and was disappointed that I couldn’t find one after sending in dozens of applications. I finally got a job, much later than I expected but still in the nick of time, at Sam Ash Music. I quite enjoy working there, and there are some slight irritants in scheduling that I’d hoped to avoid, but this is the good I have been given. As far as schooling is concerned…I was uncertain of what to do with my life, wanting to do something great…but also wanting to have a very family oriented life. Where am I now? I am transferring to USF in the fall as a music education major. I didn’t particularly want to do either, because I didn’t want to go with the flow and do what every other music student in the area does…major in music education at USF. But God has worked it all out in such a way that this will be the perfect set up for me.

By far the biggest example in my life of expecting one joy and receiving another is also one most people could relate to…relationships. I’ve always had an idea in my head of the kind of person I’d like to be with. Since my experience in the romance department was limited (i.e., no official relationship ever), I didn’t know quite what to expect.  As I met people through the years (I quite enjoy making new friends), my ideas of what I wanted in a future husband changed a little with each serious interest, as usually happens. I eventually found someone who was very much like me in personality and values. He is a strong Christian, talented, a good man, and someone I might consider spending my life with. I prayed often about him and the potential for relationship with him, as well as conferring with trusted counselors, getting to know his friends and family (I’d be doing that anyway though, because he is still a very good friend) and other such things. In the end, however, he was not interested, for whatever reason. I was alright with that at first, because interest can develop as the friendship progresses, and I was very much looking forward to continuing the friendship without any of that awkwardness between us. All was well until Justin came along. lol. One joy was expected and another given. Justin and my other friend get along quite well, and are very much alike in personality, as well as in some mannerisms. But their differences are great when you compare them in context of relationship potential, and what I had been expecting from someone I was interested in. I was in great turmoil between the two; both wonderful men, one I had been praying about for almost a year who was not interested, and the other newcomer who was interested and already quite devoted to winning my heart. I realized during all of this that I may be ruining what should have been a blessing (Justin’s appearance in my life), by focusing on the good thing that I had been looking for initially. (And I actually thought of this quote at the time.) Now I am happily in a relationship with Justin, and the other guy is still a close friend, and like a brother to me. As my relationship with Justin progresses I discover many things about him that make this relationship better in the long run than the other would have been. Had I continued to focus on the good thing that I had initially wanted, instead of accepting the blessing that God was trying to give me, I would never have discovered these things, and would not have found my sweetheart. ^.^ One joy was expected and another was given.

I encourage you, my friends, don’t ignore the blessings that God sends your way by focusing on the things that you haven’t gotten. Sometimes things happen for a reason, such as losing a friendship or not getting something you sincerely desired, but God wants to bless us abundantly, all things will work out for good in His plan. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” (Jeremiah 29:11) The choice is yours, my friends…you could refuse the real good; you could make the real fruit taste insipid by thinking of the other; or you can accept the joy that you are given, rather than focus on the good expected.

Be blessed.

Lewis, C.S.. Perelandra. New York: Macmillan Publishing Company, 1965. Print.

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On a crowded street in the downtown area of some large and busy city stood a little girl, dressed in a bright yellow dress. She stands, unmoving, amidst the ever moving crowd of tall men in dark suits, on their way to somewhere important. No one notices her, for she is just a little girl, insignificant, with yellow ribbons in her golden hair. In her hand she carries a large wooden box, holding it close to herself. This is a very special box, for in it she keeps her heart. She has journeyed downtown today on a mission: to find someone who will take care of her heart. The time had come when she could no longer care for it alone. She needed help, and hoped to find that help soon. Gathering her courage she walked in front of a tall man in a blue suit, who looked less important than the rest. She offered up her box with a shy smile. To her surprise, the man didn’t even see her, and kept on walking. Disappointed, the young girl tried again, this time with a man in a brown suit who looked less busy than the rest. She ran up to him, struggling to keep pace with his fast stride. She stopped in front of him. With a big grin on her face she proudly showed him her box. The man pushed her roughly aside, nearly causing her to drop her precious burden. The child began to worry, and tried offering her box to first one man, and then to another, and another. Frantically running around the mass of somber men on that busy downtown street. She began to despair; no one wanted her heart.

A short time later she saw a man in a grey suit walking toward her in the crowd, his suit is stained. He seemed friendly and less rude than the rest, so she decided to try again. She timidly walked up to the man, and shyly offered him her box. To her great surprise, the man smiled and took the box from her outstretched arms. Oh what joy! Someone who wanted her heart had finally come. The two clasped hands and walked happily down the street together. At first the young lady didn’t ask any questions of her friend, but finally she decided to speak to him about how to care for her heart. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words were empty, her voice was not heard. He didn’t seem to mind, he just whispered sweet nothings in her ear and held her close. She tried again, this time more forcefully, to talk about what needed to be done to care for her heart. The man in the stained grey suit didn’t hear a word, for he didn’t truly know how to protect and nurture her heart. He realized that she would not settle for less than the best care, which he was not willing to put forth the effort to give. After walking only a few blocks together down the busy street, the man roughly grabbed the special box, held it high in the air and threw it to the ground where it, and its contents, were dashed to pieces. He quickly vanished into the crowd.

The little girl was devastated. She sank to the ground, her blue eyes filling with tears as she surveyed the damage. The wooden box lay shattered in a bloody mess on the ground. She sobbed as her trembling hands tried to pick up the pieces…there were so many. The men were still hurrying by, barely making an effort to avoid stepping on her broken heart. She cried uncontrollably as slowly she found one small piece at a time. She put the largest of these in the front pocket of her now bloodstained yellow dress, to keep it safe. She sat there through the night, weeping, too broken to move; afraid to leave her heart alone in it’s unprotected state.

As morning came and the sun rose, there was no hope for the sad, lonely girl. She had not stopped crying since the night before, and no one had come to help her. She had long since given up on picking up the pieces, which still lay spread on the ground before her. A single tear rolled silently down her cheek. As she sat staring into the emptyness she felt a gentle touch on her shoulder. It was a man, dressed in a white suit. He had kind eyes and a reassuring smile. “My child, why are you crying?” He asked. She kept her eyes lowered, ashamed, unable to meet his gaze. The kind man gently placed his hand under her chin and raised her head up, looking into her fearful eyes and again asking, “Dear child, why do you cry?” The little girl swallowed, and attempted to speak, but no words would come, only a rush of silent tears. The man patiently asked a third time, “My precious one, what is the cause of your sadness?”

Finally the little girl found her voice, “I cry because my heart is broken, and there is no one to fix it.” The tears flowed freely. She expected the man to ignore her, but he just wrapped his strong arms around her and held her tightly as she wept. When her sobs finally quieted, she pulled back and looked at him, shocked to find that the kind man was also crying. Wiping a tear from the tip of her nose, He spoke, “I’m sorry, my child, that this hurt had to happen, but I can fix your broken heart, if you will give it to me.” The girl was uncertain, but he was so gentle, and seemed to genuinely care for her, and for her heart. “I will help you to pick up the pieces,” he said. The sad girl tearfully nodded and the two slowly began to gather up the pieces together. He took a white silk cloth from his suit and gently placed the little bits of her heart on it, careful to remove the splinters that had come from the wooden box.

They worked side by side, quietly picking up the pieces and putting them back together. The man was silent, and peaceful, and took great care in his work. The girl enjoyed being in his presence; it was very comforting to be near him. The task took them most of the day, and when it was nearly finished the man spoke, “Dear one, there is still a piece missing.” The little girl looked at him, and shook her head. She knew that there was still one part left in the pocket of her dress, but she didn’t think he’d want that one, and she didn’t want to give it to him. The gentle man gave her a knowing look, “My beloved, I have to have all the pieces of your heart to mend it.” She reluctantly reached into her pocket and took out the last lonely piece and handed it to him. He gently placed the final piece on the cloth with the rest of her heart, leaned down, and breathed on it. The pieces began to melt together, slowly becoming one, as if they’d never seen hardship. The little girl was distressed, but she trusted this man, and when his work was done, her heart was like new. “It is finished,” he said. She reached down to pick up her heart, but he stayed her hand. “Wait,” he said. He walked a few feet away and returned carrying an alabaster box. “Place your precious heart in here, dear one, it has my Name on it. Your heart will be safe if you give it to me.” She bent down and picked up the white silk cloth and gently placed it in His alabaster box, her eyes smiling with gratitude.

The young girl was very happy that her heart was now whole, though she was uncertain of what to do next. She looked at her companion inquiringly; he already knew what was on her mind. “Come, walk with me down the street,” he said. “I will guide your steps so that you will not stumble and damage your priceless treasure.” She nodded and they started walking through the crowd together. As they continued on their way, several men turned their hungry eyes in the girl’s direction, glaring at the strong man who walked with her and carried her young heart under one protective arm. Frightened, the little girl took her companion’s hand, clinging to him tightly. She worriedly looked up into his clear eyes, and he laughed, “Do not be afraid, they cannot harm you, as long as you walk with me. The box has my Name on it, they cannot take your heart without my permission.” She was relieved, but still a question remained. He knew. “I will help you,” he said, “to find someone to give your heart to, but you must trust me to show him to you.” She nodded and they walked on silently as before, no longer heeding the furtive glances from the crowd. After a few minutes the man asked, “Would you like to carry your heart for a while?” The little girl replied with a shy smile, “No thank you, I know now that I cannot take care of it by myself. It’s safest when it’s in your hands.” He smiled a kind and gentle smile, which she returned. The little girl knew that her heart would be protected, and that she would never again be alone. And so they walked, hand in hand, in companionable silence down the still crowded street.

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Unlonely

Lately I’ve not been feeling as alone as I have in the past. I used to be so lonely and either attention starved or just wanting someone to be with. I wondered if ever there could be someone out there who could really and truly love me, someone who would find me beautiful, and love me for who I am. Because I am such a specific and particular person, I can’t just grab any guy from the mall. I’d wonder if there was someone like me, yet unlike me…a strong Christian I could rely on, etc. Since that time (and one day in particular) I’ve come to know many strong Christian men, and fell in love with someone who I thought did love me.

Why have I been feeling less lonely lately? I’m not entirely sure. I had someone, for a time, who was like me, and who loved me. Someone who shared a lot of the same values and interests. I know that finding someone who I “click” with is possible. But now I am alone again. So what next? Maybe I’m not so anxious because I’ve reached a point where I can truly give it over to God? Maybe it’s because I’ve found a good network of Christian friends, and I am encouraged by knowing men (and women) who have a passion for Christ? I don’t know…I still very much have a desire to find the right man, right career, and settle down and have a family, but I guess I jut feel like I have less anxiety now.

THere are still times, fairly often, when I feel like less than what I should be. I’m not thin enough, or pretty enough. Though sometimes I feel AMAZING and like nothing can tear me down. I don’t have anyone really paying any attention to me, romantically that is. I have an interest, though I have no idea what he’s thinking, but it’s not a “crush”, a love, or even a “like”. lol. And I feel…ok…I think. It’s unusual, this feeling that everything is ok…but it is a good feeling…I’ll keep you updated…

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Bible Stud came to me accidentally last night when I was attempting to type “Bible study” on AIM. (Left off the y, and now I have Bible Stud…) Ok ok, I know it’s corny, but it’s also quite true. Ever stop and think what we truly value in people of the oppisite sex? I know that one thing I greatly admire is a heart for God, a life of worship, and a desire to earnestly seek Him. Honestly…a man who is truly following (and loving) God and has a desire to do His will is very attractive to a Christian girl. (especially me…) I think it’s great when I see my male friends are taking the initiative, studying the Word, carrying their Bibles with them places, “just in case.” So many men out there are not leading, are not worshipping the Lord with their life, they’re not following God and being the men that they truly need to be. It’s refreshing to have such wonderful guy friends who are on track being the men God is calling them to be. So, to all those Bible studs out there…keep up the good work!

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Emotions are an amazing thing, yet also quite irritating at times. You say you feel one way, but maybe you don’t. You think you’re feeling something, but someone else says you’re not really. You’re pretty sure why you think or feel something, but in truth, your motivations for feeling that way are not what you thought they were. And, according to Jeremiah, the heart is deceitful and no one can understand it… argh! Can’t I just feel the way I want to and not have everyone question what I’m thinking? I tend to overanalyze myself (and others) a little too much already without other people jumping in the mix and confusing me even more.

For example: there’s this guy. No, not like that, I barely know him, but I’d like to get to know him better. I’m very much interested in him, I think he’s a pretty awesome guy. So I tell some friends who know me fairly well, and have met him. I’m excited, I’ve got someone “on the radar”, so to speak. (That and I’m also a woman who really wants to find her husband and raise a family to the Glory of God.) They tell me that I’m too codependent upon someone I may never find (my husband), that I’m not really interested in him, and that it’s just a rebound. They say I don’t act like I’m interested. How am I supposed to act? If he doesn’t get it by now he’s just dumb. But what do they think I should be doing? I tell them it’s not a rebound…how do they know that it is? I’m not after him just to have someone because I’m lonely after what’s his face left me, I’m not really after him at all. I’d just really like to get to know him, any more than that is up to him and God. But the point is, I think I know what I’m feeling, I already doubt myself enough as it is. Deciding you’re interested in someone who doesn’t reciprocate that interest is part of life, though it still hurts. I value their input, I really do, and I do still want them to keep advising me. I know they just want to keep me from hurting myself, but who can really truly judge our emotions? It’s not me, I have so many doubts and fears and insecurities in my own decision making skills at times, it’s dizzying.

I thought I heard God tell me once that this guy wasn’t the one for me, and that if I did start something it would “be worse than before.” But then on another day when I was thinking about him and wondering if I should tell him before too long (the future isn’t promised to us anyway, and I don’t know what my plans are either) I thought I heard God tell me “Don’t worry, he’s not going anywhere” as if I should just calm down, he’ll be there and we’ll have time. But then I start to overanalyze, was that really God? Could it have been Satan? Could it have been my own fears telling me not to get involved? Could it be my own selfish desires just hoping beyond hope that I may really have found someone? Ack! Emotions are frustrating. And being a girl, I think we have the worse end of the emotional spectrum. Men feel things just as strongly as we do, no doubt about that, but I think that the range of emotions and the speed at which women go through them is greater by far.

I don’t want to doubt or hurt anymore. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m single, trying to figure out what I want for a career, where I want to go to school, what I want to do with my life. At the same time, I just long for simplicity. Love, friendship, children, music, Jesus, fellowship. Reading books by the fire, playing and singing and reveling in the beautiful harmonies, sharing a homemade meal with family, playing board games with friends. The lights and the glamour and traveling the world as a famous musician, or being the best teacher in the country…these things are not for me. What do I want? How do I feel? Who do I love? Where will I go? These are all questions that I thought I knew the answers to, but now I’m not so sure.

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