Tag Archives: ego

Sir, err, I mean Ma’am

As you may recall, I rocked out Adventure: Locks of Love in March of this year.  I went for the full chop of over 10+ inches and embarked on life with a pixie cut.  As  channel David Bowie and sing Ch-ch-changes in my head, it has been fun to rock super short and a bit edge-y hair.With that being said, I have had some radical battles with the good ol’ ego.  Most commonly in instances when people have mistaken me for a dude.  I know, no big deal.  But some times, when your head is down and you decided to rock a T-shirt and jeans that day and the waiter walks up to the table and says, “Hello sir, what can I get you ….errr … today?  Shit sorry…” or the girl at the bar that saw me standing in front of my boyfriend and dancing a bit with his arms around me and I overhear her tap on his shoulder and say, “O M G, I am so proud of you guys!  Way to go.  My brother is gay and I just think it is awesome”, as he tries to shut her up before I hear her visual fail.

It happens.

And usually, it is totally fine.  I laugh it off and reach for my lip gloss.

But, what about when you are just a little too tired?  Or, what about when you already had a hard enough time getting the hair in the back to stay down so you don’t look like a character out of Little Rascals?  Or, when it happens twice in one day?

I step into this space questioning my choice to cut my hair, my choice of the more so androgynous outfit that day or check out my facial features and wonder if I really do look like a boy?  I know, silly space to walk into.  Definitely a wrong turn but the ego starts driving faster and faster and I just spiral down.

Been there before?

What do we do here?  What do you do to bring yourself back to reality?  How do we realize it is a simple mistake and nothing personal?

Nothing personal, unless you want it to be.  Unless you want to stare in front of that mirror for a minute too long or throw on that extra layer of lip gloss shimmer…

Here it is:  Words are powerful, my friends.  However, I would like to take this moment to remind you, that YOU, yes you, have the power.  You give the words power and you take it away.  Oh yes, all you.

I can choose to hear the ‘sir’ as a simple mistake.  I can choose to know that I don’t look like a boy and that some times, I feel like a rock star with my short hair.  Fine, more often than not, I feel like a rock star.  And, I can choose to say to myself “hey you, get over your vain self”, and laugh it off and be a freakin’ powerhouse – own the words!

Make the choice.  It is all you.  All you.

Beautiful choices.

Sir?

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Filed under Happiness, Present, Self Love

Hug Me into a Life Check

Flashback story:  I was working in Santa Monica, riding my cute beach cruiser the 12 minutes from my apartment door to work every day.  I had recently ended my lease and given up four wheels for two, in order to save money and go green.  After about a month of bike bliss, I was transferred (laterally) to work at the Beverly Hills store.   I tried the bike to work thing and it was over 8 miles up hill on a 1 speedncruiser.  I was a sweaty, hot mess upon arrival, exauhsted and grumpy.  No thanks.  Enter, adventures on the LA bus system.

So there I was one day at the bus stop, miserable, feeling bad for poor little me and being really snobby about riding a bus.  Feeling shitty about my new life space, feeling annoyed that the bus was taking so long and even more frustrated that I had not been promoted, I had embarked on a full on ego rage, if you will.  As I am waiting at the bus stop, this homeless woman in maroon sequins pants, an oversized white t-shirt on backwards and her shopping cart rolls up next to me.  She smells something fierce and her eyes looked tired, yet curious.   I peer down the road to avoid conversation, no bus.  So she strikes up a convresation about water bottle treasures and fashion trends for a good amount of time.  She asks me for money and I decline, being honest that the quarters I have are getting me to work.  She understands.  And then all of a sudden, she leans in real close and asks me if she can have a hug?

Up close and personal, the smell is suffocating and I somehow get out a yes and lean into her for a nice quick squeeze.  She wraps one arm around me, as I realize the other arm doesn’t seem to be mobile.  She doesn’t let go for a long time.  She finally backs away and thanks me sincerely and the bus arrives.  She waves as I hop on and we never cross paths again.

Looking back now, that woman in the maroon sequence pants with her shopping cart saved me that day.

She reminded me there is more to life than being shitty about a promotion that never was or a lengthy commute.  She reminded me that the human embrace matters, all the time.  She reminded me to get the hell over myself and make a choice to get back to living the great life that I have.  Right now.  She reminded me to smile and be grateful.

From meeting that woman, I actually started my first blog called Snob on a Bus, tracking my life adventures and chance meetings on the city bus system in Los Angeles.  I committed to the Beverly Hills team and evolved as a leader and human being.  Go figure, I was promoted shortly thereafter.  I was featured on the front page of the LA Times for said blog and became a writer.  And somehow, in this short time frame, I fell in love with my boyfriend and created a beautiful life.

So perhaps, this is my thank you, dear sequins-wearing bag lady at the bus stop on Lincoln and Ocean Park.  Thank you for the bold request you made in a hug.  Thank you for holding on a bit longer and hugging me into a life check.  Thank you for reminding me to get over myself, and re-commit to this life and stop being angry about the yesterdays.

I say, get real today, get into the now and be in wonder about what might be right around the corner for you.  Take a minute to get present and hug someone.

Go find your bag lady and make a choice.

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Filed under Adventures, Gratitude, Possibility, Present

Adventure in Aspen: the Beauty of a Beginner

One year + one month ago to the date, I found myself sitting in an ER in Winter Park, CO with a broken wrist from a snowboarding mess.  I had pushed myself too far, tried to skip beginner to expert.  Wanted to hang with the cool guys that picked up boarding in 8 seconds.  Went to the next hill when I wasn’t ready.   Was in a rush.  Reality check below…

#bummer

So this week I am in Aspen, CO trying this snowboarding thing again.  I won’t lie to you guys – the past two days on the slopes, I have been trying to repeat history and have been on my ass every run. I have three bruises the size of Texas on and around my tailbone, a purple-ish-blue hue on my right elbow, sore shoulders (from picking the said ass off the snow all day) and a rigid neck from what I can only imagine is whiplash from falling so hard. Yes, the answer to your question is yes, I was in a rush again.  Perhaps I thought my friends could teach me, or I thought I could pick it up in 8 seconds or maybe this time would be better because my life is in a better place (note to self: #pleasestopoverthinking), or that maybe I would be fine with a couple of wrist guards and a little more time practicing on my own. My bruised body, my beloved+battered ego and my vacation time truly disagree.

I realize this week that I hate being a beginner in the realm of sports or athletics. The beginner:  that beautiful process where you know nothing, you start fresh and you truly take it one step, one day, one lesson at a time. You ask for help, you have high educational needs and you might have to pay the $140/hour Early Bird special for private lessons. I just dislike it. And I ooze animosity to the sport, to anyone close to me (sorry loving boyfriend and best friend and sisters and Mom and Dad…), and my attitude is one that I do not recognize.  Who is that mean girl and why is she so upset that she cannot snowboard on her second day? 

I was just pushing too hard.  Forcing something that was not there – that being knowledge and a skill set.  It was like throwing me into the water with zero swim lessons and no floaties…go!  Hadn’t I learned my lesson the first time?  Remember the hot pink cast?  Don’t I know comparison is lame?  I needed to clip out of the board and realize I cannot just pick up snowboarding.  And then, I needed to be okay with it.  And yes, my boyfriend and best friend are better than me.  And that is okay, too.  I dialed the snowboarding ticket information yesterday eve and scheduled a private lesson.  I committed to taking my time and being exactly what level I am on.

So today, I found myself on the top of a small hill after my private lesson this morning, surrounded by small children learning how to ski and snowboard and a mind full of patience. Most ski spots call them bunny hills – Aspen supported me and labeled them the “Meadows”.  I smiled at my learnings, my setbacks and my ability to not quit.  As I rode the magic carpet up the little hill, I committed to not leaving until I made it down without falling and felt absolutely confident with my abilities to turn…much less, stop. Needless to say, I never left the meadows this week.

Finally, dear Self:  Stop rushing to catch up with everyone else you are with.  Stop comparing, please.  Appreciate exactly where you are, call the professionals for a lesson and truly celebrate when you make it down the bunny hill without falling.  And then, truly be okay when you fall down the next time.  You are a learner, a true beginner.

This is the beauty in the beginner.  The small celebrations now when I learn to stop.  The truth in that, I am a level 1 who rides the magic carpet type escelators-on-snow and cannot quite get the toe side on the snowboard.  And yes, I feel cool saying toe-side.  And yes, I feel cool in the Meadows.  And yes, I fall down and my boyfriend helps me up and walks me down when everyone else is boarding past.  And yes, my friends and family enjoy me more when I actually enjoy myself, as a beginner.

#embracethebeginner

I fell (again), Chris walked me down. Together.

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Filed under Adventures, Possibility, Present, Time

Adventure: Locks of Love

I went short so another child can go long.

This past Saturday, I found myself seated in a beautiful white salon chair staring at my long hair in the mirror – going through the normal worries of cutting all my hair off.

I took my long side braid out and told my hipster stylist, its time.  I am chopping it ALL off for the Locks of Love organization.  And she began to braid my hair in 4 sections.

I have to tell you, I have great hair.  It is only the truth.  I have super thick, all-natural brown, straight hair that has some shine.  These locks don’t lie.  Thus, when I looked in the mirror with my long hair that ALWAYS grows back – I knew it was the most radical decision to donate to children suffering from medical hair loss.  This was my third time donating my hair.  And it felt amazing!

Eleanor Roosevelt said “Do one thing every day that scares you”.  Well, its scared me, and to be honest, it still does, when I look in the mirror in the mornings.  Questions surface, “do I look like a boy?”, “should I not have done it?”, “do I really need to wear earrings now?”, “do I need a more feminine look?”…

However, I check my ego and remind myself why I cut my hair – and I fall in love with my new look every time. 

And the space of service  is one that makes me feel beautiful.

Beautiful.

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Filed under Adventures, Gratitude, Love