Surviving a Break Up

There are three people you need in your life to help you survive a break-up. Adele, T-Swift, and Beyonce.

The end.

Oh, it also helps to have a den of vipers, an includer, and a wise soul that's been married for a while.

I've been the breaker-upper and the break-upee.   Both are awful.

It might be less awful if you are not addicted to being liked, but I have the misfortune of wanting everyone to find me adorable, so even when I knew I was doing a right thing, it still made me beat around the bush, cry A LOT, do things the WORST, HARDEST WAY POSSIBLE, and nearly vomit.

In every break up, I've leaned so heavily on these 3 categories of people that if I hadn't had them, I'd be lyin' on the cold hard ground.  Oh!  Oh!  Trouble, trouble, trouble.

The Den of Vipers:  These are the people that love and accept your significant other with open arms.  They rejoice and party and double date with you!  And they are so fiercely loyal that after the (non-amicable) break up, they become downright venomous towards the offender.  They are full of love and poison and righteous anger.  They cannot believe his immaturity, his short-sightedness, his selfishness.  If he starts coming around, they strike.  If he tries to be all friendly-friendly, they strike.   Do not call this immature.  It's a very important part of the process.   One time in college, an offender that shattered my heart into a million tiny pieces came by my room all friendly-friendly asking to borrow a book.  Three of my loyal viper friends were with me at the time.  After I handed the book over, he tried to start a conversation.  He asked, "So, how are you?"   In my head I thought, "REALLY?  We're doing this?  I don't even know how to answer that question towards you."  And while I was thinking, my amazing viper-friend looked at him, then back at me, then back at him and said, "Are we done here?  I think we're DONE."   STRIKE.   I still feel a huge surge of love for her when I think about it.

The Includer:   One of the most difficult things about a break up is the time.  What the heck are you supposed to do with all that TIME?  There's a lull in your day, who do you text?  It's Friday night, what do you do?  There's a festival downtown, who do you call?   You can have legions of friends, but after a major break up, all of them still feel a little too far away to call.  You need an includer.  An includer invites you EVERYWHERE.  If you say no seven times, she invites eight.  The includer invites you along to every little mundane piece of the day, so that you always know there's a place for you.  My friend, Megan, is an includer.  After my break-ups Megan was always saying, "We're going to the gym, want to come?"  "We're walking to the intramural fields, wanna come?"  "Hey, lets go get Mexican food!"  "Been wanting to see this movie, when are you free?"   Megan made sure I never had to ask, and she made sure that I never felt left-out.  The minute I began to feel an empty space in my day, I could turn to her and have a friend.

A Wise Soul:  I've had the privilege of having quite a few wise souls in my life.  My mom alone has carried me through IT ALL.  50% of this blog is just me taking credit for all her words and hard-learned lessons.  Here is a small sampling of the things my wise souls have told me during a break up that actually helped me.

1.  (When I was the breaker-upper)  "If you sincerely believe that you are not supposed to be together, you have to cut ties completely.  You're not breaking up because you don't like him.  You're not breaking up because you're not attracted to him.  That means that YOU LIKE EACH OTHER, YOU'RE ATTRACTED TO EACH OTHER, and you have a huge bank of memories and history together.  Nobody, no matter how wonderful or perfect for you will ever be able to compete with that as long as he is still in your life.  They don't have the history to fall back on because they haven't had the opportunity to build it.  You don't know how to be around this boy and not love him.  So you either stay together, or you break up.  But if you really think it's best to break up, you're going to have to cut ties.   Neither of you will ever be able to move on if you don't."

2.  (When I was the break-upee)  "I am praying 2 things, mostly.  I am praying for peace, and that you both come to believe the same thing about it.   That you'll both have peace with breaking up, or that you'll both have peace in staying together.  Either way, no matter what happens, I am praying that your hearts agree, so that you can have peace."  (Before this wise comment, the idea of me being OKAY with getting broken up with was nowhere on my radar.  It was stay together or suffer.  The idea that I could have peace, and actually personally agree in my heart with a break up so filled me with hope that I've never forgotten it.)

3.  (For both)  "Try to love him like Jesus loves him."   When I first heard this, I wanted to punch everyone and everything in the face.   I know that Jesus loves everyone the most, forever, perfectly, unto death.  So when I wanted to break up with someone, the idea of loving him MORE sounded dumb.  Like, "No you don't understand,  I'm b-r-e-a-k-i-n-g  uuuuuup."   And if I was getting broken up with, I wanted to STOP LOVING HIM ASAP so that my heart could SURVIVE.   But I learned in time what the wise souls knew all along:  When you love him like Jesus loves him, you stop loving him like you love him.  The Jesus love takes over.  You stop seeing him as your future, or your ex (or the guy that saved you or broke you or turned your life upside down).  You just see him as a person.  No more, no less.  And you love him the way that you love everyone - the way Jesus loves everyone.  You want good things for him, not because you want to tie your life to his, but because you're nice and you wish that for everyone.  And when that happens, what do you know, you're free.

If you're surviving a break up right now, I'm so sorry.  It's the pits.  The worst.   I promise that one night in the future, you'll lay your head on the pillow and realize that you went an entire day without thinking about it.   One day, someone is going to ask how you're doing and you'll say "Great!" and there will be no asterisk in your brain that means "Great*  *considering I just got dumped."  You'll be just plain, old, regular great.   Lean on your vipers, includers, and wise souls.  Laugh as much as you can, and I'M TELLING YOU:

ADELE. T-SWIFT. BEYONCE.

Dance like nobody's watching, Kate

The Survivor Series giveaway is still live!  Share a #survivorseries post for a chance to win $150+ in coffee, music, books, and other survival essentials.  Click here for details.

You guys, I wrote some books!  They’re really good and if you buy them and read them I will bake you cookies.*  You can get it on Amazon, from Barnes & Noble, and in bookstores August 1.  

*and eat them myself because you live too far away.

First Lesson

First Lesson

"Lie back daughter, let your head be tipped back in the cup of my hand. Gently, and I will hold you. Spread your arms wide, lie out on the stream and look high at the gulls. A dead- man's float is face down. You will dive and swim soon enough where this tidewater ebbs to the sea. Daughter, believe me, when you tire on the long thrash to your island, lie up, and survive. As you float now, where I held you and let go, remember when fear cramps your heart what I told you: lie gently and wide to the light-year stars, lie back, and the sea will hold you."

-Philip Booth

(source)#SurvivorSeries

The Survivor Series giveaway is still live!  Share a #survivorseries post for a chance to win $150+ in coffee, music, books, and other survival essentials.  Click here for details.

You guys, I wrote some books!  They’re really good and if you buy them and read them I will bake you cookies.*  You can get it on Amazon, from Barnes & Noble, and in bookstores August 1.  

*and eat them myself because you live too far away.

Hope (On Grown-Up Optimism)

I am the kind of person that is often frustrated that there is no jazz-hands emoji.   That is to say I'm an optimist. The glass isn't half-full.  It's all the way full if you think about it, because no one ever fills it to the rim anyway, that would be silly.  And if it's 3/4 of the way full we should just round up!  Cheers!

Between my natural disposition and my training in PR, I am THE QUEEN of silver linings.  This is not an entirely positive trait.

I had to learn how to sit with hurt - to just let things suck when they sucked.  I learned that when I was sad or mad or hurting, I didn't need a positive spin, I needed to let it be.  This taught me that when other people are sad or mad or hurting, they don't need silver linings.   They need someone to sit down beside them and say, "Yeah, this sucks.  It's the worst.  I'll sit here with you, if you want.   And if you want to be alone, I'll just fold the laundry on my way out the door."  I am growing in this.

I am still an optimist, but I am no longer a rainbows-and-unicorns optimist; I 've seen enough of life to know that things are not always good.

When I was in high school my optimism looked like **jazz hands**.   Today, it looks like hope.

I believe unswervingly that there is always hope. I believe that everything is redeemable.  Everything.

The thing is, redemption almost never looks the way I think it will.

Isn't that always the way?   They looked for a king and got a baby.  They looked for a conqueror and got a servant.  They looked for a throne and got a cross.  Redemption never looks like you think it will.  It's hard to see coming.

My life looks nothing like I imagined, in a lot of good ways, but also in some hard ways.  I have no idea how things are going to turn out.  I've given up guessing, because I'm not yet thirty and I have three kids and three books and I've moved 8 times so just WHATEVER.  But I am not discouraged by the fact that I have no idea what's going on, or by the fact that a whole lot of things look pretty darn UNREDEEMED.   I am steadfast in hope because of this glorious mystery:

Christ in me, the hope of glory.

I have Christ in me.  I can't not live a redemption story.  I could no sooner stop hoping than stop breathing.   I can't stop thinking that everything is going to turn out great, because I actually believe it.  

I actually believe in crazy-grace and Jesus the death-conqueror.  I actually believe that I could not extinguish the love, the providence, or the delivering, sustaining arms of God if I tried.   I am His, and He won't stop redeeming my life.  (Oh my word, is this what it is to trust?)

Christ in me, the hope of glory.  That phrase is tattooed on the front lobe of my brain these days, on the inside of my eyelids.  That is where my hope lies.  That's the source of the spring of my relentless, grown-up optimism.

So maybe you are in the middle of surviving, and are running a little short on hope and optimism. Maybe you thought redemption would look like healing, but you're finding it looks more like purpose. Maybe you thought it would look like saving that relationship, but you're finding it looks more like beauty from ashes. Maybe you thought it would look like a good job, just in the nick of time, but you're finding it looks more like a tribe of people to carry you through. Maybe you thought redemption would look like a baby, but you're finding it looks more like the birth of compassion, a calling.

I don't know what it's going to look like like, but I know that it's gonna be good.  I know that some days will suck like leeches, but it's going to be okay.  I have Christ in me, his breath in my lungs, and he makes everything glorious.

Hope has become an accidental theme of my life.  I chose Hope as the middle name for my daughter, not knowing the prophecy on my own tongue.  She is Madeline the hope-giver, and she is glorious. 

I am a grown-up optimist.  I cannot have it any other way.

"As for me, I will always have hope, for He who promised is faithful."  (Psalm 71: 4 and Hebrews 10:23) Kate

#SurvivorSeries

The Survivor Series giveaway is still live!  Share a #survivorseries post for a chance to win $150+ in coffee, music, books, and other survival essentials.  Click here for details.

You guys, I wrote some books!  They’re really good and if you buy them and read them I will bake you cookies.*  You can get it on Amazon, from Barnes & Noble, and in bookstores August 1.  

*and eat them myself because you live too far away.

Surviving a Move

From my inbox this month:

"We will probably be moving from Texas to Connecticut (God is really hilarious) when baby #2 is about 8 weeks old. I have never moved with one kid, much less a 3 year old and a newborn and I was thinking about who I knew who had moved with kids and naturally you came to mind.  Do you have any advice you could give me about moving with kids?  Anything would be helpful."

I move a lot.  If I’m counting every home, I’ve moved 8 times in 7 years.  It comes with its own set of challenges, but mostly I don’t mind.  (HAVEN’T minded.  For the sake of my babies and my own tired heart, I’m ready to be finished for a bit.)

A major move is among one of the most stressful life events a person can experience (it ranks near the top along with the death of a loved one, divorce, pregnancy/new baby, and getting fired).  Even a positive move for positive reasons is a total disruption of almost every category of life.   Different jobs, different homes, different streets, different friends, different grocery stores, different hair dressers, different daily interactions.  Add the stress of packing/unpacking, the inevitable financial hit, and the affect the process has on children, and WHOA.

No matter how wonderful the situation to which you’re headed, you must uproot - and uprooting is stressful.

I wrote a post called “Puppy Box” a few months ago, right after we arrived in Raleigh.  It was about surviving life-change.  The three things in that little post are what I would tell to anyone who is staring straight down the barrel into a major life change – move, divorce, death, pregnancy, et al.   There is no quick fix, but I think that those are the start to a real one.

I am still personally pressing through that list, holding my own toes to the fire, doing the next right thing.  I am cultivating a beautiful space, I am sharing with my safe friends, and I am finding routines that work for me.

As for the nuts and bolts of moving, I’ve learned a thing or two.  Here’s how I minimize the chaos:

1. When in doubt, throw it out.

(Or give it away).  Stuff costs.  The more stuff you have, the more stuff you have to wash.  And store.  And care for.  And fix.  More clothes don’t help you do laundry less.  They just help you put laundry off until you have THREE TIMES AS MUCH to do.  I halved my wardrobe 2 moves ago and it changed my life.  I got rid of our coffee table and it changed my life.  I got rid of all but one set of glasses – because why?  I am in a constant state of re-evaluating “need,” and moving is a perfect time to do it.  You already have to lay hands on everything.  If you don’t want to move it, consider how badly you really want to have it.

2.  ZIP-LOCK BAGS.

What goes in them?  Makeup, nail polish, 24956230946243 pieces of play kitchen food, silverware, Play Doh tubs, scarves – I put every sub-category of thing in its own bag and when I look down into my organized moving boxes my heart swells with joy.   There’s nothing floating or rattling around in boxes.  Everything shuts and stacks neatly.  Be still my heart.  Hefty makes Jumbo sized ones, 2.5 gallons or something amazing.  They are the new heavens and the new earth.

3. Don’t undervalue comfort items.

In your overnight bag, pack your kids’ cup, plate, sheets, towel, soap, and nightlight.  Of course you could do without them for a day or two, but in keeping as much familiarity as possible, you give those little hearts some tiny anchors.  They’ll sleep better and transition better, and therefore so will you.

4.  Use disposable dinnerware and/or eat take out for a week, or three.

The environment will understand.   50% of all your boxes will be kitchen boxes.  This allows you to JUST DO IT.   No “Will I need a colander this week?  A knife?”   Save the time and mental energy of categorizing and planning and agonizing – you have more important places to spend it.

5.  Color-coordinate your boxes by room.

Get a few rolls of colored duct tape and slap a piece on your boxes so that all your helpers (YOU HAVE HELPERS, RIGHT?) don’t have to ask you where every. single. thing. goes.  And you won’t have to re-move everything after they leave.  Blue tape?  Bedroom.  White?  Kitchen.  GAME CHANGER.

6.  Set up your bed before your help leaves.

You’re going to be exhausted, and you’re going to want to sleep in your own bed like you want to BREATHE.  As the truck gets emptier and people start asking, “Is that all?  Is there anything else?”  Say, “Yes!”  Pay them in pizza or ice cream or whatever you have, but assemble the frame while the help’s still good.  At 11:00 at night when you walk into your room, sweaty and spent, the difference between a bed and a pile of beams and screws will be the difference between life and death.

7.  It’s a marathon, not a sprint.

Early on, it’s easy to one-more-thing yourself to death.  I get excited about nesting and settling in.  I love unpacking.  I love creating a beautiful space.  I want to create Apartment Therapy-worthy bookshelves and hang ALL THE GALLERY WALLS.  But that’s a recipe for burn-out.  The kids’ and mine.  I am learning to say, “That’s enough for today.”  Eat dinner with your kids.  Don’t unpack the plates while they munch, sit and look them in the eye.  Play the Wii amidst the boxes.  Get out of that chaotic house and go for walk.  Turn off the music and sit in the quiet.  Sleep.  It’s a marathon, not a sprint.

8.  If you can get someone to watch the kids for a week, do it.

Send ‘em to Grandma’s.  A week will sound like FOREVER.  It will be hard, and you’ll miss them.  But when they get to their new home, it will be a HOME.   If you can, schedule it so they’re gone for the 2 days before moving day, the day of, and 2 days after.  You’ll be able to move 12 times as fast, you’ll be able to pack up their rooms and toys without saving things for “the last minute.”  You’ll be able to run errands – drop off the donations, clear the boxes, make their beds, GET GROCERIES.   It will save them from the most chaotic part, and alleviate some of your mom-guilt for being busy and feeling like they’re in the way.

Also these 2 moving hack links are ON POINT.

 Brilliant Moving Tips

Master Moving Hacks

And with regard to finding your way in a new city (literally or metaphorically), don't be afraid to turn around.  You're never lost if you know how to get home.

You can do this.

The Survivor Series giveaway is still live!  Share a #survivorseries post for a chance to win $150+ in coffee, music, books, and other survival essentials.  Click here for details.

You guys, I wrote some books!  They’re really good and if you buy them and read them I will bake you cookies.*  You can get it on Amazon, from Barnes & Noble, and in bookstores August 1.  

*and eat them myself because you live too far away.

I Have a Fever, and the Only Prescription is More Laughter

Right this second I am racking my brain, really searching my bank of experiences, to see if there is a better feeling than a good, hard laugh. I can't think of one.

Humor lightens everything - it lightens THE AIR.  Laughter breaks the ice, binds us together, and comprises our very best memories.  Our favorite days are the days we LAUGHED, hard.

When I am around my people it isn't vulnerability or intensity or prayer that bubbles up, it's silliness.

My best friends are my silly friends. My favorite people are people who laugh easy. My favorite authors make me laugh out loud. My favorite parents are parents that laugh at and with their kids - that find the whole thing entertaining.

You can't dislike a person who consistently makes you laugh, even if you disagree with every other thing they believe.   Every woman I know wants to be with someone who makes her laugh.  Aside from maybe kindness, that's at the tippy top of the list.

If you are a teacher, a parent, a husband, a wife, a boss, a pastor, or a political figure, I humbly request MORE HUMOR.  I'd like to see some wit, some silliness, maybe a dash of satire.   I believe that humor is tragically, woefully, underused in business, church, therapy, academia and EVERY OTHER PLACE.  It's so effective.

Also, humor is a survival tool, straight up.

A few months ago, I was all battered and beat up by life.  I was plum out of feelings and thoughts and words, and was wandering through my house like a zombie.  I was the undead, incapable of reading, writing, doing dishes, returning texts, or caring that new episodes of Scandal went up on Netflix.  It was bad.

One night, I was in need of a feeling.  Any feeling.  Anger, hope, compassion, conviction, accomplishment - any feeling would do.  I turned to the vast, vast internet.  I checked every single social media outlet that exists, and they all sucked.  I thought,

"WHY IS THE INTERNET SO BORING TODAY?"

It was so boring that I opened up Pinterest.  PINTEREST - the place of crafts and recipes and weight-loss scams disguised as before and after bathroom mirror selfies.  I pulled up my boards to see if there was anything I'd saved for later that I could build or create.  Working with  my hands is therapy: no abstract thinking, just reasoning and sweating and figuring stuff out.

In case you aren't familiar with Pinterest, it allows you to have up to 3 secret boards, where you can collect ideas and images that no one else can see.

My secret boards are called "Cornball," "Profane," and "Reclaiming my body."   They are filled with internet memes I'm embarrassed to love, profane pins that I can't pin publicly because some people are sensitive about that and I get it, and fistpiration stuff/tattoo ideas - respectively.   (I think that sums up a lot about me as a person.  Related thought:  if you are considering dating a person, check out their secret Pinterest boards.)

On this night of the living dead, I opened my "Cornball" board.   And do you know what happened?  I LAUGHED.

I laughed SO HARD.  It started as a giggle, which surprised me, and before long, I was sitting alone in my kitchen BUSTING A GUT and wiping away the tears.

I think this image was the turning point:

The longer I looked at it the harder I laughed, until I got the "church giggles" and I could. not. stop.

Here is what I know:  There is no hug, no prayer, no Bible verse, no hard rain that could have infused that kind of joy and hope back into my life.

I laughed and laughed, and with every stupid cat picture I remembered that I was a fun person.  That I could laugh easy, at stupid things.  I remembered what it felt like to be light, and to delight in things.  Not deep life-is-beautiful-and-I-am-blessed delight.  SILLY delight.

Laughter is sacred.  It's right up there with prayer.

A few weeks ago my friend Sara asked me kind of jokingly about how to survive being 24 and undergoing 15 major life transitions all at once.  I COMPLETELY UNJOKINGLY said, "Pray a lot.  Laugh and sleep as much as you can."

Humor is undervalued and underused and sometimes it can save you.  Laugh easy and often.  It really is the best medicine.

_______________________________________

If you do not yet have a corny, internet meme Pinterest board, I cannot recommend it highly enough.  Start today. In the meantime, you can borrow a few of mine:

The Survivor Series giveaway is still live!  Share a #survivorseries post for a chance to win $150+ in coffee, music, books, and other survival essentials.  Click here for details.

You guys, I wrote some books!  They’re really good and if you buy them and read them I will bake you cookies.*  You can get it on Amazon, from Barnes & Noble, and in bookstores August 1.  

*and eat them myself because you live too far away.

.