Venting

I feel so bitter these days. Not every second of every day, to be sure. I have moments where I feel joyful or make someone laugh. But on the whole, all the things that have always annoyed me about the world seem to be increasing—in frequency and intensity.

I don't know how to explain it. It makes me want to stop being friends with a lot of people. It makes me want to stay off the internet forever. It makes me want to snap pencils in half. It makes me want to throw open my mind and spew things and watch people be taken aback (which, really, is probably just a restatement of that first desire.)

I feel angry a lot. The body-center kind of angry, where your heart beats faster and your hands tingle. The kind of anger that literally keeps me up at night. The kind of anger that can make a difference—for good OR evil, but mostly I feel the evil.

Lately I've had people complain to me about things that they're brought on themselves—I mean, just hand-over-fist, dragged those things off shelves directly above their heads and stood underneath them to watch them fall. As hypocritical as it is, I have a lot of trouble feeling sorry for people who have brought their troubles on themselves. For a person who brings many things upon herself, I have shockingly little sympathy. (Maybe that's why? Not that it makes it any less hypocritical, but maybe I lack sympathy due to the "takes one to know one" effect.)

I have trouble talking to people who complain about things they've brought on themselves. In these situations I feel physically incapable of speaking insincerely, so that leaves me saying a lot of non-committal half-truths punctuated with "LOLs." I don't want to be mean. I don't want to be ungracious. I think about all the things I've brought on myself that Jesus has loved me through and taken me back after. But somehow I still can't think of anything to say to these people that feels kind and gracious AND true.

I've also recently been the recipient of the ol' high school trick where someone passive aggressively calls you out in a disparaging Facebook status. As an Eight, I have a complicated relationship with other people's opinion of me. In one very true way, I do not care what people think of me. It is not important to me to be liked by everyone. But on the other hand, injustice makes me seethe. Unfair, disrespectful assumptions bother me, not because I care what people think, per se, but because it's WRONG; in this case, it reflects something wrong about the person who posted it, not me, and yet the person doesn't see that irony. I find this maddening.

I've also seen posts berating people for occasionally breaking the six-feet-apart guideline. The posts demand that people stop being so selfish and take initiative by always staying six feet apart. On the surface, that doesn't sound like an unreasonable request. However, when you think about it playing out in reality, it just doesn't work.

Say I'm on a bicycle and I see someone ahead of me on the sidewalk. I can't pass them because I'd be closer than six feet, so I cross the street to pass—oh wait, there are people walking on that sidewalk too, and, in THEIR effort to stay six feet away from ME, they panic/stop in their tracks/cross the street, where—uh-oh, they're in danger of being too close to the person I was trying to avoid, and the person I was trying to avoid has to run ahead to give these new people room, but then she gets too close to the person ahead of her on the sidewalk—

It is a nice thought. But in reality, you cannot expect people never to break the six-feet-apart rule. If you are so concerned about your personal safety, definitely wear a mask, stay home, precautions. But if every individual person is supposed to rearrange himself for every individual person, we're just gonna collide even worse—and no one will reach their destination.

Although it doesn't feel directly related, I wouldn't be surprised if this bitter, pent-up feeling is a side effect of quarantine. With two or three exceptions, I haven't seen anyone but Gabe in about eight weeks. I'm beginning to feel permanently disconnected from the aspects of humanity that I actually like. I'm watching as Americans become brainwashed into believing that anyone who stands up for his or her freedom is selfish. There is no other way to put that. We are being brainwashed into believing that standing up for your freedom is selfish. If your reaction to that statement is any form of, "Well, YEAH, wanting to go out in the middle of a pandemic/wanting businesses to be allowed to stay open/etc. IS selfish," then it sounds like you've already drunk the Kool-Aid.

Loving your neighbor by choosing to stay home, wear a mask, and keep your distance is a beautiful, godly decision. Embracing the government's authority to FORCE you to do those things is frightening, un-American, and dangerous. It is not selfish to want to make your own decisions.

I'm going to try to do a better job of giving this all to God. Clearly I'm currently doing a horrible job. I hope getting this out has been in some way therapeutic for me as well. It's been a long time coming.

~Stephanie

As Told in Pairs

{Did you read the title as "Paris"? Because I've done that like four times since typing it. Anyway.}

Personally, I don't drink.

I don't mean "I don't get drunk;" I don't mean "I don't use alcohol to solve my problems." I mean I have never tasted alcohol and I plan to be able to say that for the rest of my life.

And I am tired of people making assumptions when I tell them that.

So, I am writing this post to debunk myths about my stance on drinking/alcohol.

2 Reasons That Are NOT Part of Why I Don't Drink

"Because drinking is morally reprehensible." False. Jesus drank. Jesus turned water into wine. Yeah, I think there's something about how the alcohol back then didn't get you as drunk as fast, but still. I don't think that I can use being a Christian as a reason to condemn all alcohol all the time.

"Because drinking is always irresponsible." I also don't believe that drinking is inherently irresponsible. Obviously getting drunk in public and hitting on a stranger/throwing up in the bathroom/trying to drive home/airing your friend's dirty laundry is irresponsible, but if you know your limits, you never have to reach that point. As long as you make logical arrangements, you can drink safely and smartly.

2 Reasons that ARE Part of Why I Don't Drink
My family has a history of alcoholism--on both sides. I am genetically predisposed to become addicted to alcohol. Maybe I could taste it and walk away. But it is very likely that my body would demand more and my brain would wire itself to use alcohol as a coping mechanism. For me, drinking is just not smart.

Do you even know me at all? Let's be honest guys:  if I were to drink, I would drink too much; I don't do anything halfway. I am passionate and mischievous enough while sober; I dance enough, talk enough, laugh enough, and put my foot in my mouth enough while sober. I need no enhancement of my "drunk-on-life" state. If I were to get drunk, I would probably end up taking my clothes off, starting a fight, and making out with a stranger.

2 Additional Myths About My Position
I think everyone should adopt this stance/I judge people who drink. False. Because I don't have any inherent or moral problems with alcohol, there is no reason for me to think no one should drink. I will be your DD. I will help you find the bathroom. I will advise you on when you've probably had enough. And I will think no less of you when the night is over.

I think I'm better than people who drink. *rolls eyes* Seriously? If anything I am genuinely jealous of people whose personalities and biologies allow them to drink responsibly.

2 Additional Truths About My Position
It is difficult to maintain. I love to have a wild good time. I look around at parties and clubs and concerts and I see people laughing and loosened up and I wonder what I would be like on a little bit of juice. Would I be a silly drinker? An angry drinker? A sad drinker? I'll never know, and that's difficult to live with as someone who likes to leave no experience unknown.

My best friend and boyfriend drink alcohol. My two closest friends in the world drink, and I have no problem with it. In fact, I maaaaaay live a little vicariously through them:  "Ooooh, Cass, you should get that drink. That blue one. Yeah. Cool. How is it? Is it good? And, Gabe, get that weird lime one because it looks fascinating. Please?"

And that's pretty much it.

:)

~Stephanie

The Teenage Brain

I stir sugar into my hot tea with a knife. {Oh please, no college student washes silverware until the very last utensil is dirty}. Today I was surprised to see the graceful explosion of tea leaves swirling around in my mug. I was raking a serrated metal edge against a thin, wet tea bag. What did I expect to happen? Somehow, not that.

Then I got to thinking.

The human brain doesn't effectively factor in consequences until it's 25. We watch videos in health class about how eating badly can cause diabetes, and tanning can cause melanoma, and smoking increases risk of lung cancer, but there's a disconnect in our heads. Our subconscious definitions of "relevant" are exceptionally narrow.

Researchers say that this is just the way young adult brains work. It's a scientific fact. It's not that we CAN'T make the better choice, it's that we don't fully understand why it's better.

So what? Is it not our fault that we have bad judgment? Should we be exempt from blame when we make stupid choices?

My immediate response was, "No, of course not. Even a three-year-old is expected to follow rules." Don't hit people; use your inside voice; don't leave the front yard. If toddlers are legitimately subjected to rules, teenagers should not have a My-Brain-Hasn't-Developed-That-Far-Yet card to play.

So yes, teenagers should be expected to follow rules. But that's not quite the question I had originally asked myself. "Following rules" and "making choices" are two radically different things. Rules result from authority; the option to make a choice results from having authority yourself.

During the teen years, people are given more authority over themselves. They get more freedom, and, of course, with freedom comes responsibility. It's not just about following rules anymore; it's about choosing our own rules, drawing our own boundaries.

But as soon as we're allowed to make our own choices, our brains become ill-equipped to make good ones. What are we do to, then?

I think it depends on what kind of person you are. Some teens are perfectly content to seek out authority figures and ask them for advice. They continue to follow the rules that have been set for them, and ask mentors to help make new choices.

But then you have the other kind of person, the kind of person who wants to see for herself; the kind of person who wants to find out WHY that rule exists before she chooses to follow it, or builds her choices on that rule.

The first situation is ideal, I guess. Best case scenario, teens listen to their mentors until their own brains develop enough to make good judgment calls. There is definitely honor in this approach, and I'm sure it prevents a lot of heartache.

However, I mostly wouldn't know, because I am Kind of Person Number Two.

I'm an advocate for freedom of decision:  freedom to make stupid choices with the knowledge that consequences--good or bad--will follow. I think your conviction to do right becomes stronger once you truly understand wrong.

{Experience also makes you undeniably more convincing and better able to advise Kind of Person Number One. Number Two probably isn't going to listen to you anyway.}

But getting back to the original question:  Can teens be held accountable for their choices if their brains are scientifically not conducive to good decision-making?

Absolutely. And they should be.

But instead of condemning them for making the "wrong" choices, we should remember that they couldn't see it coming quite the same way, and that their "screw-up," no matter how devastating, is ultimately one more step on the road to true understanding.

~Stephanie

I Don't Like Love Stories

I think I don't like love stories because they're all lies.

I guess to some extent, all stories are "lies" in that they're fiction. But see, no one expects {REALLY expects} to be able to read a character into our world or travel to Venus. At least, by the time you're old enough to look for truth in books, you know that those things won't happen. But by the time you're old enough to look for truth in books, you're also old enough to search for Love, and that is something we really DO expect.

In real life, we look for love and expect to find it, so it seems cruel and wrong to write stories that set people up for failure.

Books--love stories in any form--are pretty clear from the beginning. The main characters are laid out for you and you can tell instantly which guy{s} are on the list of potential Trueloves. By about half or three-fourths of the way through the story, you're sure whom the main character will end up with. {In movies, it's usually within the first fourth.}

Real life is absolutely nothing like that. In real life, you're sort of always and never in medias res. Yes, you're in the midst of your life right now, but at any moment, something completely new could be introduced. Every second of life could be the beginning of a new story. There's never a time where you can nod and say, "Okay, no more central characters are going to be introduced" or "Clearly, this is the main plot strain."

In a way, real life can never be authentically translated to a story, because stories deal with neatly defined sections of a person's life and include--for the most part--only details relevant to the story. {Unless it's by Herman Melville.} In a story, you know what to pay attention to, because if it's there at all, it's likely important. In real life, you have all of the details all of the time and must prioritize them on your own.

However, some kinds of stories can achieve more authenticity than love stories, for example ones that deal with solving a mystery, investigating a crime, or battling an enemy. Those stories can be more authentically contained by literature because they have beginnings and endings in real life too. Mysteries have answers; crimes have perpetrators; evil kings have deaths. In both stories and in real life, the components of the answer exist before you embark on the journey. In both stories and real life, you know for sure when you can check the box on the story's completion.

Plus, mystery/crime/morality stories contain universal, applicable life lessons. Love stories are generally mined incorrectly for wisdom. Instead of looking at a story and saying, "Clearly lying to people results in unimaginable heartbreak," people look and say, "Clearly a liar can still be your true love if you just don't give up on him." People miss the trees for the forest, instead of the other way around.

But even if crime-solving and enemy-fighting stories couldn't be applied to real life, the topics aren't sacred. They're universal and impersonal enough that it wouldn't be terribly offensive to distort them a bit.

But to distort something like LOVE...that's just sick. "Love stories" usually pump people full of unrealistic expectations of the scope and clarity and beauty of love. Real life and real love cannot be detected any better by familiarizing yourself with romantic fiction. Real love is too complicated to reduce to a finite story.

Love stories do a gross disservice to Love and lead people to false knowledge. I'd rather read something else. To me, "Inkheart" is somehow more real than "The Notebook."

~Stephanie