theamyjoy

Children. So many children.

about five days ago, i celebrated my twenty-sixth birthday. no big deal. 

that night, as I was settling in for bed, i stumbled across a show I remembered getting canceled a few months ago called “my generation.” the premise of the show is basically about a group of high school students who were part of a documentary 10 years ago when they were all graduating and now the film crew is back for a kind of, “where are they now?” sort of thing.

the plot is sort of easy and simple and not wholly inventive… twenty-eight years old, and you know, life hasn’t really turned out the way they thought it would and we all get to feel not only a small part of their 18-years old angst from the high school flashbacks but also a lot of the quarter-life crisis people get when they realize thirty is so close and what is this life and who am i really and what happened and where am i going and all the sudden it’s not really a t.v. show streaming on my mac… it’s real life. 

okay, so it hasn’t been 10 years… yet. but i’m a year and a half away from having graduated high school 10 years ago. just to put this up front… i’m not one of those people who’s big on comparing. At least, not out loud, because God knows it’s so tacky to talk about people your own age or younger who are married or having kids or owning homes or all of those crazy things people do when they become an adult. because i’m an adult too, right? i mean, just because i’m single and have roommates in a definite step-up-from-college-but-not-a-home apartment… and just because i haven’t dated anyone seriously in nearly two years and those 17 year-old dreams of making it all happen by age 27 are looking so, so remote… and just because i can barely decide on a hair-color, let alone put a down-payment on really anything… i mean, that’s… life is different for my generation now. right?

and i’m not unhappy. i think that’s the weird thing. i have such amazing times with my friends and i can do whatever i want, whenever i want. i have a pretty awesome job and it challenges me professionally and personally and i love the places and things i’ve found to call mine… my church, my coffee shop, my favorite drink, my style, my kind of movie, my books. i love those moments when life is good and i stop focusing on what my friend andy calls my “first world problems” and instead, let myself breathe deep and just live. just live the life the rest of my generation is pushing so hard for, one that has meaning and that moves our culture forward, one motivated by my personal faith and by the love i have to give. 

about this same time two years ago, i had this crazy memory from college and it started me thinking about what i really wanted and what it meant to have succeeded. you can read it here: http://theamyjoy.com/champagne-dreams
looking back, there’s a part of me that feels a little bit of that same twinge to put myself in that place, but somehow, i know that i am there. i know that i do have those groups of friends who get together, who surround themselves with candles and lights and other sparkly celebratory things and we dance and laugh and breathe in night air and live because tomorrow is far away and we only have each moment to cherish. that this is our time, my generation’s time to make life happen. 

so maybe i’m not on the “right track” to be married and god knows i’m terribly far away from even wanting or thinking or anything about children. maybe i’m not “sex and the city” fabulous … or maybe it’s taken me longer than i thought it would. maybe when the candles burn down, and morning light comes, i still hate the little things we all deal with as adults, like oil changes and parking tickets and other things they don’t put on cute tv shows. maybe i’ll always be the kind of person who literally wears everything she owns and waits as long as possible to do laundry or maybe somehow someday i’ll transform into that strange wife/mother creature that does laundry and dishes and cooks daily. who knows really at this point? 

for now, this is life. i’m not making any more apologies for what i haven’t done, and i’m not getting upset at myself anymore for who i thought i’d be. maybe the next year will be whirlwind and i’ll somehow accomplish what i thought i would. Or maybe it’ll be a normal year where I take normal life steps and maybe have a milestone and maybe don’t. 

maybe the people who knew me 10 years ago will think to themselves, where is she now? and i’ll be wherever i am, being whatever i am, knowing that i’m praying daily and becoming exactly… me. no documentary crew needed, no media-driven hype about my generation or what someone like me at my age should be doing, none of that necessary to motivate me into wanting something fleeting and superfical. 

just me, living as best, as big and as much as i can. 

sometimes, when people laugh at my cynicism or my jaded view on reality [the sort that lends itself to a special kind of humor enjoyed by many but appreciated by select few], they may not know where it comes from. and honestly, the answer is simple. 

i am constantly being dissapointed and let down. 

it’s true - the merriment i bring to others with quick wit or punchy one-liners are all dished out of a huge vat of shattered expectations. the smiles and festive nature that i work so hard to surround myself with are the result of perpetually ignoring my ever-present despondency. 

if you know me, you know this.
you are shaking your head?
you find this hard to believe?

the last time i told you a story and we laughed, was the story about something pretty terrible that happened to me?
when we hung out, was I self-deprecating all night and you found yourself shaking your head and giggling? 

need an example?

in the past few days, I’ve humored my friends with the following: my inability to eat without making a mess similar to a four year old; the way i constantly have food/lint/coffee/toothpaste/etc. on or around my boobs [usually somewhere out of my own line of sight]; the changing tint of my hair [today was hunt’s tomato paste]; the future of my love life [essentially doomed to wander the world forever like the incredible hulk]; the reason for my singleness [i simultaneously think either everyone is in love with me or no one could ever be, a paradox of my own creation]; the orphan-hood that has arisen from having no parents or stable siblings near-by [oh cool, you have holidays/birthdays/sundays/weekends/vacations/etc. with family… that’s so nice for you]. and those are just the most recent or recurring topics. you know you at least cracked a smirk once in that paragraph. 

and it’s not like i’m trying to focus on myself. i hate that… i don’t want to be that type of person. in fact, the whole “i’d rather make fun of tragedy than just feel sorry and lame” comes from wanting the people around me to be happy. even when i’m not. 

even when i do have surface issues [self-esteem and body consciousness] or normal issues [interpersonal relationships and romance] or deeper issues [loneliness, abandonment, depression], i know enough in this life to know i don’t like the person who “over-shares” and “relies on others” and is “dependent” or “needy.”

so this week I had a pretty unfortunate situation occur. and i’ve subtly hinted at needing help with it to a large group of people. 
in that group of people were ones who I thought would totally respond and want to help and lend a hand and even offer advice or just an ear or shoulder to lean on. people who generally are the “family” i don’t have near me. 

out of all of those, one person has kind-of-sort-of helped. and it’s not even someone i asked for help. 
i could get really, really, really jaded. i could say all kinds of things about “church people” or “the ones i thought they were my friends” or have a “pity party” or… all that nonsense that people use to really mean… they are hurting and disappointed by life.

we all are.  

but, luckily for me, my mother named me amy joy, and for those of you in the know, my twitter name is @amyisjoy. heck, this blog is theamyjoy.com … i mean… i have this daily reminder that i can either be the person she named me, or i can be someone else.  

so i guess the point is, yes, i’m hurt. i’m upset. 
but in the scheme of things… one day, this will be just another story i tell, just another incident of my seemingly jinxed adult-hood that will be what we laugh at over dinner. you’ll shake your head and say something ridiculous about me being “crazy” or “ridiculous,” and i’ll smirk over the pain.

and that, as they say my friends, is life. 

Once, less than a handful of years ago, I had a friend refer to me as the existentialist poster child. In his own way, I believe that he was both telling me I was too complicated for him and also to get out of my own head before i lost my way out. 
Tonight I found myself telling someone I was a closet introvert, and I wasn’t surprised by her response. Like so many before her, it’s hard for her to believe that someone as loud, opinionated and independent as myself would think of themself as an introvert. So i figured I’d find the hard evidence to back up not only what I said to her, but also what i feel about myself [foreshadowing].

So multiple articles and tests later, here you go.

As far as I can tell, everything agrees that the dominant [read: what you observe] part of me is classifed as being made of extraverted intuition with introverted feeling. i know i know… what the heck does that mean, exactly?
The main way I live life is focused externally, where I process things through my intuition. Then, my next level if you will, is to deal with those things according to how I feel about them or how they fit into my personal value system. This may still seem a little dry, so let me add some fun parts into this and paint a really vivid picture, and you might see me.

The extroverted part is the warm, enthusiastic, loud laughing side of me, the part that Myers-Briggs says means i’m “typically very bright and full of potential” and i’m sure my mother would love to agree. MB says i live in a world of possibilities [which could insinuate that I live in a world of daydreams], can be very passionate or excited about things [which is true, but sometimes I feel like the things I get excited about… don’t matter?] and “potentially” this would lead to an ability to inspire and motivate others more than other types. Well…that’s saying a lot. 

In addtion, this test says, 
“ENFPs can talk their way in or out of anything; they love life, see it as a special gift, and strive to make the most out of it. ENFPs have an unusually broad range of skills and talents. They are good at most things which interest them. Project-oriented, they may go through several different careers during their lifetime. To onlookers, the ENFP may seem directionless and without purpose, but ENFPs are actually quite consistent, in that they have a strong sense of values which they live with throughout their lives. Everything that they do must be in line with their values.” 

I’m sure, yet again, that my mother would agree I can talk my way out of things, and I’m sure a few people would say they have witnessed me talking my way into things. I call this “excellent BS skills.” For example, last week I was sent on an errand to meet some people to look at a space. I wasn’t told why this space was of interest and I was sort of left to assume why anyone wanted to use this space. But I walked in there, looked like I knew what was up and asked questions that made sense to why I thought I should be there. The ladies I met with were delighted, and I think I got free swag out of this adventure if I remember correctly.
I have family that hasn’t learned this trick of mine yet, and that’s fine. It could be they choose to ignore it or that I’m not as prone to use it on them… most likely the latter, which is why they probably do see me as “directionless and without purpose.” It’s probably that they just don’t care about the same things I care about, which i think is what this test means by “values.” In fact, I almost crave the need to feel that I am “living [my] life as [my] true Self” mostly because I, similar to others like myself “see meaning in everything, and are on a continuous quest to adapt their lives and values to achieve inner peace. They’re constantly aware and somewhat fearful of losing touch with themselves.”

Exactly… it starts to get a little longwinded here and doesn’t say anything you would really care about except about my being “intense.” This is true. 
BUT THEN, in black and white this test confirms what I was trying to say all along! Right in the middle of all this only-interesting-to-me-paragraph, it states:

Unlike other Extraverted types, ENFPs need time alone to center themselves, and make sure they are moving in a direction which is in sync with their values. ENFPs who remain centered will usually be quite successful at their endeavors. Most ENFPs have great people skills. They are genuinely warm and interested in people, and place great importance on their inter-personal relationships. They have an exceptional ability to intuitively understand a person after a very short period of time, and use their intuition and flexibility to relate to others on their own level.  

Basically, this paragraph is saying, yeah, Amy you do like to be social and loud and talk a lot. But in order to do it, you need alone time. AND THIS IS WHAT I FELT ALL ALONG. Anyone who knows me knows that once I get home, especially if my pajamas are already on [and they usually are within .34 seconds of me walking in the door], there’s no getting me back out again. I need chill time, me and my DVR time. Me and a good book love affair. 

This also talks about intuition when it comes to people… which I would say is about 87 percent accurate. I would just like to make a similar and opposite statement to the end about “relating to others” - If I feel like someone is a jerk or a stupid girl [especially a stupid girl] soon after meeting them, I will pretty much transparently display the way I feel until someone convinces me that my feelings are unfounded [they usually aren’t]. 

So, that was a lot of words to say that I’ve confirmed a couple of things I already felt about myself. Basically that I am outgoing and like to talk and people generally enjoy me being that person; however, after being that outgoing, I have to go away and relax on my own so I can “recharge” and make sure I am still being true to me. And also that I get people pretty much as soon as I meet them. 

A closet introvert. 

I won’t go into all the rest, because believe me, there was a TON more. I’ll sum up the good parts - first, they said I probably suffer from muscle tension because I’m so sensitive to my environment and can’t relax [accurate]. Also, that I have a strong need for independence [that probably ties into the whole, every now and then I need to be alone thing]. Basically, the whole adjective laden sentence it gave me was: ENFPs are charming, ingenuous, risk-taking, sensitive, people-oriented individuals with capabilities ranging across a broad spectrum. They have many gifts which they will use to fulfill themselves and those near them, if they are able to remain centered and master the ability of following through.

Well. yeah. So in order to be the best me, I have to remain centered, which this renowned test has told me happens when I have me-time. 

So the next time you call me [and you know who you are] and I tell you I’m napping or in my sweatpants or busy or what have you and can’t come out, and you’re bummed because you know I normally would… just think, no, Amy needs her time. 
I mean, you don’t get the loud, laughing, crazy me without it.

I’m a closet introvert. You can call me whatever you want… the existentialist poster child, the boring girl on a tuesday night, or the life of the party on Friday. they are all true.

And I’m feeling pretty alright with that.

[In case you haven’t caught the fact that I use the word feeling a lot, Feeling is actually part of my acronym ENFP, and means I act according to how I feel, which is very, very, very true.] 

If you read all of that, you either really love me or you are stalking me and I’ll know which one of those it was… so if you’re brave you can comment. 

As the night comes in 
Dreams start their drifting 
And you hear 
A lullaby….

I think the reason shows and movies depicting a character’s imagination run wild do well, is because, we all do that. We imagine the conversation we’d have if that one person was next to us. We have spontaneous feats of heroism and bravery, in our minds. We fall asleep, empty hand to the world, but clasping true love in our dreams.

Most poignantly we’ve all seen how Zach Braff captures this, of course, in Scrubs, as his fantastical version of the world moves around only in his head, and reality usually comes crashing down in simple silver linings and slivers of hope around him. And i’ve spent a lot of time trying to live in those fantasies. In the musical numbers I create while I’m alone, the romance novels I’ve built into my heart’s walls. I walk down the street and pretend the music playing only in my ears is the soundtrack of my Music Video life.  

But at night when it’s finally quiet, when i finally look up at the moon, and it’s changed but I haven’t, I want messy reality instead of my sterile fantasy. I want to step forward in conflict, if only to know the truth. I want to be the hero, even if no one lives… or simply knows… to tell about it. I want to fall asleep to the rise and fall of true love next to me. 

As the light goes out 
Thoughts turn to angels 
All around us 
As the night comes in 
Dreams start their drifting 
And we hear 
A lullaby, a lullaby 
You and I. 

the pictures of things that strike my eye…. street corners, train stops, sunsets. 

writer Maria Robinson once said,

Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.

my life has changed a lot lately. and tonight i realized that the promise i made to myself a year ago, the one i almost forgot about, is coming to life… no more wasted time. no more wasted life. i will have a different ending than i would have a year ago.

there were days i used to spend sitting in one place, standing in one spot and letting chances and loves and ideas and places find others who were ready to grab hold of them. there were days i did little more than watch a drop of rain move from the top to the bottom of a window sill.

and there were, for sure, the decisions i made over the past months that have led to today. the phone calls i pushed myself to make, the voicemails i made myself answer, the faces i made myself look at. the constant struggle as always is to face fears, both the ones that do and the ones that don’t exist. it’s my own form of quirky, the one that isn’t cute, the one that causes me to still have a person who listens to my voicemails first so he can help me prepare for the bad ones. i haven’t convinced him to move on to emails or even regular mail. 

but then, tonight, as i looked around my room and saw eyes of people who love me… the soft light reflecting off of smiles and the walls that now contained our laughter and new jokes, i knew. 
tonight, as i thought about the days i’ve been spending doing things that make me feel strong, working on projects that made me feel nearly cinematically sentimental about “how far i’ve come,” it occurred to me.  

Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.

 

there are some internal fights i’ve had about a multitude of issues and questions and problems. i didn’t know who i was. i didn’t know who i was to be. i didn’t know how i was going to get there. i didn’t know what to do about it all. 

there are a lot of ways those fights could have ended. 

there are bigger fights on the horizon. 

 

i’ve been told that I am meant for something… bigger.

this is not reassuring. this does not make me feel special. this does not bring me joy. this has caused me self-doubt. this has pulled my head, my soul down almost to the point where i’ve thrown my hands up in desperation. how can i be meant for something when i don’t even have the simplest things figured out? 

 

i’ve been told to expect great things. 

expectation can do a number on resolve, on belief, on hope. low expectations can raise and strengthen them. but these high expectations that i’ve been saddled with - they can crumble and seemingly bury someone in their rubble. 

 

i’ve been told to go this way. to go that way. why don’t i do this? why am i not here instead of there? shouldn’t i be this far by now? maybe try this? maybe i should start over now. maybe i should run away. maybe i should do something, anything to be more, get more, see more, do more, know more, find more. 

 

enough. 

 

here’s what i know. 

 

i know i’m following a plan. i don’t know the whole plan. i only get to see tiny bits of it at a time. but i know who designed it, and He has my best interests at heart. if there is anything at all that i’m ever meant for, He knows about it already. when it’s the right time, i’ll know too. or maybe i will never know. maybe the things i’m meant for, i’ll never see the effects of. i am okay with this. 

i know He has done great things in the past, and this causes me to believe He will continue to do so in the future. perhaps i will be the catalyst for some of them, if that is the best way for great things to come about. maybe i will just be an observer. maybe i’ll have an uncredited cameo. i’m okay with this. 

i know each and every step on my journey will be the right one, because i got the directions ahead of time. i may have a layover in a dark, empty valley for just a night or for longer. i may stay in the penthouse suite free of charge for months at a time. each struggle creates greatness and strength in me, and each joy brings me reprieve and rest with Him. 

 

today i wept in the valley. the loneliness crept in to hold my hand, and the anguish hovered nearby. when my last tears fell, they silently left. i spoke His name, and the emptiness disappeared. he’ll hold me tonight, so i’ll be ready for whatever comes tomorrow. 

there are bigger joys, bigger trials, longer journeys on the horizon.