What Makes a Man

The guest pastor at church today promted the question, "What makes a real man?" He had some quick bullet points on the subject, but it wasn't the main point of his sermon, so he didn't analyze it very thoroughly. However, I didn't find his actual sermon nearly as interesting as that question, so I took the liberty of zoning out and thinking about it myself.

Upon much zoning out, analyzing, and even some Googling, I give you my personal opinion of qualities that make a man.

1. Gentlemanly {that's a word, right?}:  Old-fashioned? I mean, yes. And that's not a bad thing.  A real man will open doors, walk the girl home, pay for dinner, and offer the girl his jacket. I would not classify myself as a hopeless romantic, but I guess I am in this respect.

2. Confident:  Different from arrogance, sometimes similiar to cockiness. Cool, calm, collected, and actually able to complete tasks with competence. {So many Cs.} A real man can asses a situation and make a decision with confidence. It really irritates me when a guy refuses to have an opinion or constantly defers to others around him. Man. Up.

3. Protective:  Of both bodies and honor. A man stands up for those he loves when they're being physically threatened, but also verbally. It's every bit as important that a man combat a blow to his friend's character as it is that he join him in a physical fight.

4. Supportive:  As long as he doesn't think something is immoral or extremely unwise, a man should support his friends and family.  He should be encouraging and helpful. Ooh. Helpful.

5. Helpful: I feel like every female has this on her list XD A man should take the time to think of ways to help. Sympathizing is good. Offering to help is great. But actually having a practical suggestion is ten times better, and just going ahead and HELPING is a hundred times better.

6. Honorable:  A man keeps his word {I had "promises" here originally, but a man shouldn't have to PROMISE for you to be able to count on him}, doesn't cheat in relationships, tells the truth, and stands up for what he believes.

7. Thoughtful:  Words are good. Actions are better. Flowers, letters, remembering special occasions. People probably know you care in theory, but it's so important to show it, even {especially?} in ways that might actually inconvenience you.

8. Funny:  Okay, so I guess you can be a man without being funny, but all the best guys I know have good senses of humor too XD

This list got longer than I anticipated, and there are a ton of other things that crossed my mind to put on it. However, the list started to feel really demanding and ridiculous, and it occurred to me how I'd feel to read a list like this about girls. It'd probably make me annoyed and feel like a failure.

Huh.

Soooooo :3 Hopefully this doesn't totally kill the sensitive little boy inside any guy who reads this. And I'd like to offer guy bloggers a change to get "revenge." What qualities make a woman? I'm actually kind of curious to see what your thoughts are.

Any takers? Come on. Be a man XD

~Stephanie

Mutual Weirdness

I mean...okay, yeah c:

~Stephanie

Things That Will, Things That Won't

Things That Won't Work on Me
1. Tickling
2. Flattery
3. Helium {in reference to making my voice high-pitched}
4. Guilt-trips
5. Pickup lines
6. General peer pressure {not including close friends}
7. The Puppydog Face
8. Emotion {not always including anger}

Things That Will Work on Me
1. Foreign languages/accents
2. Dares
3. Batman apparel
4. Peer pressure from close friends
5. Caffeine
6. Saying my name
7. Staring
8. Logic

~Stephanie

Angry

I'm angry that I have to be away from home.

I saw pictures of a couple of friends on Facebook today. They're going to community college, so they still have their friends, their families, their favorite stores. They're getting an education and keeping the people they love. They don't have to live at home but can go back any time they want.

I'm outrageously jealous. I'm inappropriately angry.

Then there's Bekah, my roommate.

"It was nice to see people," she said yesterday. "But after a couple of days I was ready to come back. I just like the people so much better here. I don't have anybody back home who I really call a 'best friend.'"

Well, that's great. I'm genuinely happy for her to love college so much more than her life at home.

But I'm not that lucky. I have a best friend who's the other half of my brain, heart, soul, and body. I have a boyfriend who makes every minute delightful adventure. I have a sister who's growing up without me.

And I come here, and... I eat lunch with people who are fun in a shallow, boring way. I study for classes that are 80% busywork and 20% actual brain power. I sleep some, I eat a lot, I work out, I pass up offers to go play poker. And that's my life.

What the fuck. High school was twice as challenging and a thousand times more fulfilling than this. It's not that I'm homesick. I'm not sad. I'm angry. I'm furious. I'm absolutely pissed off.

I don't want to be here. I want to go home. I want to be where my life is. I want to go back to where I know I belong. This cannot be where I'm meant to be.

~Stephanie

Who I Am Now

I'm the girl who knows the answer, but won't raise her hand because she's afraid of being wrong.

I'm the girl who's better at introducing herself than carrying on a conversation.

I'm the girl who's more likely to tell you that her best friend loves owls or that her boyfriend's a chemistry major than anything about herself.

I'm the girl whose stomach muscles could lift a truck but whose arms can't lift a small child more than ten times.

I'm the girl who loves pictures, but hardly takes any because she hates to miss out on the moment.

I'm the girl who confuses everyone with her constant sarcasm.

I'm the girl in the Batman T-shirt.

I'm the girl with outrageous surges of anger who somehow doesn't experience road rage.

I'm the girl who tries to wear Converse to formal events.

I'm the girl who calls out Adventure Time apparrel.

I'm the girl who is smarter than she is friendly, and yet spends all her mental energy on studying instead of trying to make friends.

I'm the girl who misses home because she likes the people better back there.

I'm the girl who asks a question and then forgets to listen to the answer.

I'm the girl likes the idea of a challenge better than actually taking it.

I'm the girl who feels both wrong and right everywhere she goes.

I'm the girl with plans, potential, and passion who sits on the computer and blogs about it instead of doing it.

This is who I am now.

~Stephanie

The Me I Want to Be

I want to be a girl who can say a lot just by the way she walks. I want to walk with even steps and straight shoulders, fully engaged in the world around me. I want to make eye contact with strangers, and leave them feeling different after they look away.

I want to shrug off my hesitant tendencies and be myself with abandon. I want to embrace, to embody the mantra, "Those who mind, don't matter." I will be myself because the world needs me, and one else can do it for me.

I want to be so comfortable with myself that I inspire others to be genuine as well. I want to be a piece of people, so that they feel more whole when I'm around. I want to bring out the extrovert in everyone. I want to be the presence that flows into a group of acquaintances and melds them into a group of friends.

I want to be so original that people are constantly wondering what I'm going to do next. I want to be dared and be daring. I want to be the one people turn to when they hear the phrase, "But who would do that?" I want to be the one who can pull it off.

I want to say what I mean when I mean to say it. I want the perfect word to connect from my mind to my mouth. I want to use the right number of words and the right amount of time. I want to be eloquent and articulate without throwing people off. I want people to understand me the first time.

I want to listen to everything around me. I don't just want to hear what you said, I want to understand and internalize it. I don't just want to hear the doorbell ring, I want to be the one who gets up to answer it. I don't want to ignore anything, by accident or on purpose. I want to notice the world and engage it.

I want power in my eyes and joy in my laugh. I want to have a healthy soul. I want to be intensely real, yet refreshingly pleasant. I want to be strong without making others feel weak. I want to be intelligent without making others feel stupid. I want to be popular without making others feel inadequate.

I want people to wonder what makes me different. I want to be able to say that I found myself, and that I found myself in something bigger than us. I want my fingers to leave traces of God in the air. I want to be a bold person for a bold God. I want to be real. I want to be radical. I want to be revitalized.

This is the Me I want to be.

~Stephanie

Half a Year

Today, Sam and I have been together dating for half a year. That sounds like a lot longer than it feels like. Life just goes by fast. One day I'm like "No," the next I'm like "Okay," and the next I'm like "Oh hey, six months."

I had an interesting idea for this post. I was going to post an except from a journal entry from each month we've been dating. But then I realized that I'm at college, and intentionally do not have my old journals with me. So I have to improvise with what I have with me.

April 4th, we talked about dating. We both wanted to. We both thought it was a bad idea at the time. But we knew if we didn't date, we'd just end up going out anyway under a different label. We figured it was better not to kid ourselves or those around us.

On April 9th, he asked my dad. I really didn't think he was going to. But, like, he did. So. Yeah. I was pretty happy. {I was also listening at the bottom of the stairs :3 By the way, Sam.}

April 10th, we went FBO XD Woo.

Then on April 14th I left for Italy for two weeks XD Aw.

May 12th was senior prom.

I don't really remember a lot about May XD I'm assuming nothing awesome happened. Correct me if I'm wrong, and forgive me if it was really important.

June 10th:
I picked a fluffy, white dandelion and held it out to him. He paused, totally still, and then in a lightning-fast motion, his head snapped out and his lips closed neatly around the dandelion fluff.

I was absolutely shocked. I let go of it and turned away, bursting into laughter. I walked away a few paces before turning back. He looked sheepishly pleased with himself. He made a little O with his mouth and blew out the seeds. It was awesome.

His audacious sense of irony is my favorite.

July 2nd:
We were sitting in the backyard a few weeks ago, watching it storm at night. The sky was gloriously angry, the wind powerfully beautiful. The trees loomed closer, showing their pale underbellies. They actually looked like they were advancing, Sam and I agreed.

“What if one of them falls?” I said, wondering without worry.

“Well, if I hear something crack,” he began in his confident, plain way. “I’m grabbing you and we’re running that way.” He pointed in the direction of the garden.

I nodded. “Okay.”

August 12th:
Sam got FRIED. Like the brightest sunburn I’ve ever seen. So we aloe’d him, all three of us. Sophie was super sympathetic; I kinda was, but at the same time, I felt mischievous. He lay on Sophie’s and my bed; we sat around him rubbing aloe on his back and blowing on it. I was drinking a bottle of water, and I suddenly had the terrible, cruel idea of, like, grinding the cap into his back. I totally would not have anyway, but Sam, facedown on the bed, said,

“Stephanie, I swear, do not scrape that cap on my back.”

He knows me too well :3

September 2nd:
Sunday was Matt's birthday party at the neighborhood pool. I was soooo sleepy at one point.  Just utterly exhausted.  Sam and I were in the clubhouse on the couch, Cass and Sarah in the comfy chairs facing it.  We were all talking.  Sam had his arm around me.  I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.  He trailed his fingers gently along my forehead, temple, nose, cheek.  To my sleepy surprise, it felt nice, not unnerving.

"I feel like normally there's no way you'd let me do this," he said. "You must be reeeeally tired."

"Mhm," I mumbled.

I fell asleep.  Later Sarah told me that she tried to reach over and wake me up, but Sam shook his head and motioned her hand away, mouthing, "No, let her sleep."

But Cass said my name and woke me up.

October 8th:

Dear Sam,

People always try to define love. I used to think that was stupid. Like, it actually bothered me when I was little, and I got into an argument with my dad about how stupid it is that there are so many love songs out there.

I still think there are a ridiculous number of love songs, but defining love is interesting enough that I'm going to put aside my childish exasperation and give it a shot.

I think I love you, because I can show you my writing.
I think I love you, because my chest hurts when something bad happens to you.
I think I love yo,u because I'd rather read the dictionary with you than go skating with someone else.
I think I love you, because I can fall asleep in your arms.
I think I love you, because I can't stop myself from smiling when I see you.
I think I love you, because I pray for you every night.
I think I love you, because I have nothing to hide from you.
I think I love you, because you know my passwords.
I think I love you, because you have my back when I'm about to look like an idiot.

I think you love me, because you help me make the right choices.
I think you love me, because it bothers you when I'm treated inappropriately.
I think you love me, because you go to dances with me even though you hate them.
I think you love me, because you haven't given up on me.
I think you love me, because you're skipping band practice for our sixth-month.
I think you love me, because you call me when I'm upset.
I think you love me, because you want to do the right thing, even when it's hard.
I think you love me, because you listen to me.
I think you love me, because you went to seven Red Boxes to find "Horrible Bosses" for me.

I guess you can't really define love once and for all. Everyone feels love differently, shows love differently, judges love differently. But if I had to define it, I'd define it as this:

 "the freedom to feel secure in being yourself, knowing that the other person wants you to be as happy, healthy, and whole as you can be--even if that includes relentlessly mocking your parking skills"

~Stephanie