Last Week #32 | Strong Independent Woman™

 Sorry for the brief absence. The week after Thanksgiving, I had a bit of a meltdown. I realized that a lot of things were bothering me that I hadn't thought would be, and then criticized myself for letting them get to me. For instance, I realized that it did actually bother me that when I went home for Thanksgiving (literally less than two months after I'd left) my room that I'd lived in for more than half of my life was getting a complete overhaul. It did actually bother me that I felt like I had no place in my home anymore, even though I made the choice to leave. And despite these huge revelations, I still had school projects to finish, and I still had to go to work. I had too much to do, and no time to figure any of it out, or give any of it the time and attention it deserved.

 I felt like nothing was the same. Not my home or my job or my school or even my freaking hair. And then, Eli and I were just not communicating well. It's been a long time coming, this bout of us figuring it out. For a week straight, we had the same arguments. The same conversations over and over again. By Thursday, I was sick of it. I lost it. I stopped replying to texts, and I fled to the Art Park by my apartment to work on a project, because even in crisis mode I can't help but do my freaking school work. He met me there, and we hashed it out. We said everything we felt like we couldn't say, for fear of hurting the other person's feelings-- everything we'd never explored because up until three months ago we didn't have a place to have these conversations. Have them in the basement of my house when we only have two hours to watch a movie? Nope. Have them in his bedroom, with a million people walking by at all times? Nope. Have them in a car at 11 pm on a Tuesday night, when I have to be home by 11:30 and one of us has to drive 30 minutes to get home? Nope. We put it off until now, when for the first time in the timeline of our relationship we finally have a space to discuss, explore, and say what's on our minds. And we got it all out on the table. 

 When all of this change began a few months ago, I told him that I would need him. That when it feels like things aren't good with us, it feels like I have nothing, because literally everything else in my life is in transit. I'm trying to fight the feeling that that is unhealthy. Because it doesn't matter. It's just what it is right now. But I have hope, and faith, that it will change. After a bout of bad, we are good. We are communicating better, listening better, and expressing our emotions better. 

 I still feel stupid for getting upset in the first place. Because you see, if I get emotional over my mom painting my room immediately after I move out, I'm no longer a Strong Independent Woman™. How will I fight the patriarchy if I cry over such juvenile things? And while I will forever be an advocate for every woman believing that she is strong and capable, I realized in these last few weeks that that ideology can sometimes go too far, and become negative. Sure, we're capable of anything and everything. But do we have to be? Can it be okay for us to fall, to cry, to be mean and irrational and illogical sometimes? Can we simply have too much on our plates without being told, "See, this is why women CAN'T have it all." 

I am a Strong Independent Woman ™. But I am also flawed and fragile and f*cking human, in need of a support system. I need someone to sit next to me while I scream and cry and yell and call people who piss me off terrible names. I need someone to be patient with me when I make a grumpy face after they make me laugh, because I'm in a Bad Mood ™ and I don't want to laugh. That's what I need. And Eli gives that to me. I don't think that makes me less strong, or less independent, or less of a woman. (It probably makes me "more" of that last one.) I'm a little afraid to post this, because I don't want you all to see my ugly side and judge me. But at the same time, I think that's kind of the point of this post. Not for you to judge me, but for me to accept myself enough to share it. 

 -Fran

Last Week #30 | Here Comes the (Love) Anxiety

 So this week I discovered that I am actually capable of what my therapist told me to try last week. Which was: take the pressure off yourself to get so much done, and see if it all still gets done anyway. This should have been a no-brainer for me. Of COURSE it will still get done! I should have thought. I didn’t. It was so hard for me to let go of the worry and anxiety this week, and trust that it would still get done in the end. But you know what? It DID. I realized that worrying in my down time doesn’t make the work get done any faster, it only makes me more exhausted by the time I have time to work. So I can’t do work. So, in essence, worrying about being productive makes me LESS productive. And I know what you might be thinking: But Fran, duh! Worrying gets you nowhere. Just relax and chill out! And to that I would say: HA. Because sure, I learned a valuable lesson about behavioral tricks this week. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still have anxiety. Anxiety means that all of my efforts are just that— efforts. Sure, they can help to rewire my brain and combat the negativity up there, but in the end, my anxiety is still gonna do what it wants to do sometimes. 

With anxiety, if it’s not one thing it’s another. Sure, I got a lot of work done this week. I made progress on my projects for my drawing class, and felt good about the other work I am doing. But I still feel bad and guilty and anxious about not being a better friend this week, sometimes, all the time. But the difference is, I now know that worrying about it isn’t going to change anything. That doesn’t mean I don’t still worry. This kind of ingrained behavior doesn’t go away overnight. But I now have a little voice in the back of my head telling me to relax, it’s okay, it’ll all be fine.

Yoga this week taught me just as much. As I stretched and twisted my body, and felt the pain that comes with not doing yoga for a while, I realized that this pain so obviously symbolizes life. You feel the pain, but it will pass. And learning that fact (“it will pass”) is one of the most valuable lessons, and something that will get you through both yoga and life. The thing is, when I feel pain my brain is like “UUUUUM bitch you are gonna die if you don’t end this right now.” So I panic and stop whatever I’m doing that’s causing me pain instead of working, pushing, breathing through it. I was afraid I was going to do that with Eli, with this job, with my apartment. But I haven’t, and my life is so much better, so much more as a result. 

Full disclosure, I still freaked out a little bit this week too. (You win some and you lose some.) Long story short, I watched my favorite movie (Amelie), and wigged out about the fact that I was nostalgic for her lost-ness, for her alone-ness. I worried that my wanting alone-ness meant I no longer loved Eli, and then my brain got out of control. It went haywire. I quite literally pushed Eli away, had a total meltdown, cried myself to sleep, woke up and cried some more. Then I sent him a lengthy, completely insane message that was full of my fear and anxiety and sadness. To which he replied, “Ok Fran.. you can do whatever you need to and I will understand- go see your mom, just lay there alone for today, go drive by yourself, idk whatever you need.  But all I can say / all I know is this:

I love you, I love coming home to you, I love when you come home to me, I love "seeing the world" with YOU, I *love when we figure out an argument and solve the problem together and it's all 100% ok, I love being with you.” 

Yeah. I f*cking know. He’s a goddamn unicorn. Always has been, always will be. Another thing my therapist recommended last week was composed of two simple words. “Trust. Eli.” Which is admittedly hard for me, despite the fact that he’s wonderful, because I am hard-wired to believe that I am the only one who can (and should) fix my problems. I’m the only one who will have the right solution. That, my friends, is called a control freak. I am one. But the difference now is, I’m trying not to be. 

Finally, before and after all this learning, I had a breakthrough. I realized on Tuesday that the reason I've felt unhappy, unfulfilled, and like I haven't been taking care of myself, is that I haven't been doing creative things for me. If you don't know, that's an enormous part of my personality. I'm the kind of person who's always doing a lot. That's just how I work. But lately, my time has been not-so-equally split between: work, schoolwork, and time with Eli and friends. Let me put this plainly: I HAVE NOT BEEN WRITING. I have not been CREATING. That's like...Beyonce not working on an album. It's just not good for anyone involved. So in a crazy leap of faith, I joined NaNoWriMo at the last second. Let me be clear: I'm not doing NaNoWriMo as it is usually done. I'm not writing 50,000 words and striving for 1,667 per day. But I've made it a priority to work on my in-progress novel, and give it the time, energy, and thought it deserves. Because not working on it has made me feel worse than the effort of finding time for it has. Another thing: Eli and I discovered that we like to read together. I think the problem I've been having is that the past year of our relationship has been so environmentally rocky. By that I mean, we've never known when we would see each other next, or if we were able to: where we would even spend time together. Now, knowing that we always have a place to come home to and relax and be together is so relieving, we almost don't know what to do with it. It's going to take us some time to get used to this. To relax, and realize that we have all the time in the world. This week, we tried that. We laid on my bed and he listened to an audiobook while I read The Walking Dead. And it was amazing! Uncovering this new element of our relationship, discovering that we can want to be together all the time, but that doesn't mean we have to talk or really even engage with each other the whole time. We can just sit next to each other and READ. What a freaking revelation. 

I know this blog post probably isn't perfect. But I'm trying to let go of the need for perfection. I'm trying to sink into the feeling that "it will pass." All of it. The bad, and the good. It will pass, and my challenge is to remain present and here through it all.

-Fran

Last Week #26 | Channel It

 Last week, Eli was gone. For five days…plus an extra Delta day. But I had a plan. I was going to WERK. “Channel it. Into your work. Into work.” That was my plan, and then I burned out. 

At the beginning of the week I was like- I am a queen. By Wednesday I was like- I am dying. On that day, my “day off,” I tried to do too much. To be fair, I did it all, but by the end of the day my thumbs had checked things off the to-do list, but my poor brain hadn't caught up yet. I found myself wishing I had a Pensieve to empty my mind.

I discovered that it's extraordinarily hard to “channel it” when your outlet is gone. Usually I can channel anything into art. Deep sadness? Art. Anger? Art. Hunger? Art. This week though, my loneliness did not get turned into art, because my loneliness meant my overwhelmed-ness was compounded and I could barely do anything. I found it hard to channel my feelings into my work, because the channels were all blocked. Blocked by loneliness, blocked by anger, blocked by annoyance, blocked by stress. I didn't have my vent, so it built up and up and up until... I got a pounding headache. And then I was able to do even less. I watched The Mindy Project and packed books and tried to do the most I possibly could with each day. But the most you possibly can do isn't always the best idea. It's better to do the majority of what you can and leave some room for rest, so the next day you can do more, instead of burning out on day 1. I’m not really good at that. I’m good at burning myself out. 

Here's the thing about being on your own. Fortunately, there's no one there to tell you what to do. There's no one there to say, "you shouldn't watch The Mindy Project and do art on your lunch break!" (Good. Cause that was a dope idea.) There's no one there to say, "Don't get drunk in your kitchen and dance to Beyoncé.” (GOOD. BECAUSE THAT WAS A GREAT IDEA.) And unfortunately, there's no one there to tell you what to do. No one to tell you what to do when your head starts pounding and your heart follows suit and you don't know what to prioritize first because it all seems important so it's all too much. 

What worries me is, I did do a lot this week. I worked my typical 35 hour schedule (9:30-5 5 days a week), while also packing a significant portion of my room into boxes, bringing those boxes to a storage unit (and getting the storage unit OPEN on my own), starting and completing an art project in like 3 days, watching 26 episodes of The Mindy Project in 6 (Come on. That is an accomplishment!), having two school-related meetings, getting essays done, writing outlines, making videos and blog posts for myself, and sleeping. And I completed all that under the stress of only being able to talk to my significant other for ten minutes a day. (Usually at the end of the day, when I was so worn out and moody and sleepy I wasn’t really capable of being nice to myself, let alone him.) I did all that, and I couldn’t see it, so it therefore wasn’t enough for me. I felt like I had failed to take advantage of my week to WERK.

At the end of it all, when Eli finally got home, I was so worn out and strung out and wired and exhausted that I pretty much just crashed. We had a great reunion, don’t get me wrong, but I definitely fell asleep, hard, for a portion of it. Let me make this make sense to you— I do not ever fall asleep watching TV. That is blasphemous to me. This weekend, I did it two days in a row. Full on passed OUT in front of Bojack Horseman. Eli tried to act like he wasn’t disappointed, but I think he was a little bit. I mean, we had plans, and I snored and drooled all over them. But I guess that’s what I mean. I’m not very good to myself sometimes. I don’t forgive myself for falling asleep when I need to be doing other things. Actually, it doesn’t even get that far. I don’t even let myself fall asleep when I need to be doing other things. The reason Eli is so important to me, so important to my life, is not because I am some needy girl who can't do anything without her boyfriend. I can do it all on my own, but my brain likes to trick me into thinking that I've done nothing. He helps me see it. He is patient and kind and forgiving with me. And when we are together, we are a little better to ourselves, because all either of us wants is to be good to each other.

This week I thought a lot about a particular quote from a Conor Oberst song I’ve been listening to on repeat. "And if you don't collide with the traffic in your mind / I think you'll find your way out of this / I hope you find your way out of this." Every time I heard it, it stopped me in my tracks. Holy shit, I thought. How does he know about the traffic in my mind? How did he word it so perfectly? F***, has Conor Oberst bugged my brain? Anyway, I’m working on it, Conor. I’m working on being better to myself. I’m learning how from a really great human being. And I hope one day to find my way out of the maze of traffic in my mind.

 -Fran

Last Week #25 | One of Those Girls

First things first, I have a few questions for you. How the HELL do I write about being in a relationship for a year? How do I write about the fact that this time last year I hated two dates on the calendar, and now they are some of the most positive ones (while also retaining some of that sad nostalgia).

No answer? Okay then, let’s get on with this. Last week, I posted a really angsty blog post about my birthday, because I didn’t really know what to say about it yet but I had to say something. Now, I will say something better. My birthday has always felt like a letdown, because I had it in my head that it was supposed to be this perfect day. But now I think I’ve figured out what it is to me. It’s my New Year's. It’s the day where I have a total reset, where I celebrate the change and growth of the past year of my life, look forward to the next, and eat cake. That’s what my birthday was this year. And it was nice. I’ve decided it doesn’t have to be great, because like, that’s not what New Year’s is. New Year’s is where someone always cries about their life, make resolutions for the next year of it, and drink a lot.

Eli was an integral part of making my birthday a day of celebration and light and love. He literally showered me with gifts, and it's the only time I've ever felt like an actual birthday princess. The big one (which was actually an anniversary gift) was tickets to see Conor Oberst, the lead singer of my favorite band, Bright Eyes, in concert at Carnegie Hall the day before Thanksgiving. I cried. 

In fact, that's probably the theme of this week. Tears in the face of extraordinary joy. On Saturday the 24th, on our anniversary of a year of dating, after a night of birthday shenanigans, the sadness crept in to the bright edges of our celebratory day. All day as I fought the tears, I kept trying to remember, hold in my head, that you have to be sad to be happy sometimes. Not because of those bullshit sayings like “there’s no sun without the rain.” (Bullshit. That’s just scientifically and meteorologically incorrect.) But like, in the Inside Out way. Where sometimes happiness is a little bit sad. 

The day was sad because we knew we had to bring him to the airport for a family vacation in 12, 10, 8, 6, 4 hours. The day was sad because it had been such an overwhelmingly blissful 24 hours. The day was sad because honestly, it's sad to remember how sad you were before all of the happiness came. And even though you're happy now, you still feel sad for past you. September 24th, 2013 is the day I got into the car accident that changed my life. So before I met Eli, it was a REALLY shitty day. September 24th, 2015 is the day Eli and I agreed that if dating is watching The X-Files and eating Panera together, we wanted to do that. Stat. 

I obviously didn't know when we started dating how much of a responsibility love is. Taking someone's heart in your hands and promising you won't squeeze too hard and break it is an unimaginable undertaking. One that I didn't quite understand the enormity of when we first began. We've both learned so much about that over the past year, and not always the easy way. But we've also learned the positive aspects that we never could have imagined. I think what I've learned, and this is hard for me to admit, being the extraordinarily feminist human being that I am, is that he's made my life better. He's made it brighter. He's enriched it in ways I could never have fathomed. And I don't like to admit that because I like to think of myself as someone who can do it all on her own. Who can be strong and independent and smart and get where she's going entirely on her own. To be clear, I can. And I have. But I've learned that I don't need to. Having someone by your side as you do it all doesn't mean you couldn't do it all on your own. It just means you are lucky enough to have someone by your side, cheering you on. I get scared sometimes by how much I love Eli. I get scared that I love him too much, that I'm putting too much of myself into this relationship, that I'm one of those girls who gets in a relationship and loses perspective on everything. I want to be one of those girls who works and has a career and makes awesome art and reads intelligent literature and watches inspiring indie films and has great friends and IS a great friend. And I also want to love. I know that's a lot to ask of myself. I know I do that a lot. I expressed this fear to one of my friends the other week, and she just absolutely went off on me, as only a great friend can. No. You guys are great. You love each other, but you build each other up with that love. You're helping each other grow. (That's the gist of what she said. I can't remember precisely.)

Something I realized on Saturday, as I showed him the video I made him and we went to visit our friends at their coffee shop and we talked about religion and raising families and the best way to do it all and we said I love you and sobbed and held each other like we were afraid to let go, is that I am doing all of those things that one of those girls does. I'm doing it with him, and I'm doing it alone. To quote one of the comments on my anniversary video that my beautiful, lovely, wonderful friend Jean left, "Beautiful! The two of you, separately and together." I'm going to humor myself and hope that she's right.

-Fran

Last Week #22 | Ron Swanson Officiated Our Wedding

 Last week, Nick Offerman (AKA Ron Swanson from Parks & Recreation) officiated my and Eli's wedding. Before I get into the (absolutely incredible) details, first, let me just tell you why this is significant.

1. I often jokingly call the Parks & Recreation theme song my antidepressant, because for a few dark months in early 2014, it pretty much was. I had watched the show when it first aired, but lost track of it during high school. Post-high school, however, during a very depressing winter when I had nothing else to do, I revisited it and watched three seasons in about a month. From that point on, the show was my drug of choice.

2. When Eli and I first started talking, it was via text, and we were cripplingly awkward with each other, I think because neither of us had ever been this interested in and attracted to another person before. So we started giving each other compliments in the only nerdy way we could think of to tell each other we wanted to kiss each other’s faces. We started Ann Perkins complimenting each other. If you're unfamiliar, it looks a little something like this: 

3. One night, we both took quizzes to see which Parks & Recreation characters we were. I got Leslie, and he got Ben. Then, I took another quiz. “Which Parks & Rec character would be ‘Ya Boo’?” I got Ben, and I sent it to him with the smirk emoji. That was flirting to us.

4. When we finally said I love you, Eli said it the normal way, but I said, “I love you and I like you.” Not because I wanted to be like Ben and Leslie, (even though I definitely do), but because that was how I felt. Love and like were two different things in my mind, and I felt both. Later, Eli would put it perfectly: “I like you to the point of loving you without losing any of the liking you.” 

Basically, Parks & Recreation is super freaking important to our relationship, and to us as individuals. I take waffles seriously. And on Wednesday night, Ron Swanson officiated our wedding. We went to Nick Offerman & Megan Mullally's Summer of 69 Show (no apostrophe) and were just enjoying the beautiful weirdness that was the show when they asked for a volunteer couple from the audience. The next thing I knew Eli was raising his huge arms and we were being beckoned onstage by two of our favorite actors. The rest is kind of a blur, but I shook Nick Offerman's hand and he complimented my lavender hair and I hugged Megan Mullally and Nick kept talking about Eli's man bun and we played a compatibility game where we were challenged to answer questions in precisely the same way...and we pretty much crushed it. Not to brag, but we answered all but one question the same way, all while standing in the presence of two people we routinely watch on Netflix while cuddling. Then Nick Offerman stood between us and asked us one final question... "Do you, Eli, take Fran to be your lawfully wedded wife..." He then presented us with rings and that is how I got married onstage to my absolute favorite person by Ron freakin' Swanson.

The funny thing about this whole story is, I've recently been plagued by a question that this experience completely put to rest. The question is this-- when you're happy, can you experience as much true joy in new shows and music and art and life experiences as when you are not? Is there some inherent connection that you make with culture when you're lonely and sad that you don't make when you're satisfied? I was thinking about the connection I made to Parks & Recreation when I was depressed, and worrying that I'd never find such happiness in another show or movie again, because I'd already found it in a person. And I know, any logical, rational person would say-- but Fran, this is so much better! You've made a connection with a real, tangible human who can register your love and give love in return! But you don't understand. My connection with music and stories and television shows is what makes me, me. 

The notion that somehow those connections wouldn't be as strong in light of my finding Eli is completely terrifying to me. I think these fears can honestly be linked to an experience I had a few weeks ago. On a sleepy Monday morning recently, I was watching a terrible young adult reality show on YouTube to wake myself up, as you do, and everyone was lamenting the fact that summer is almost over. And for the first time in my life, I realized that the end of summer doesn't mean everything sucks again. Everything in my life will pretty much stay the same, no matter the season. But then of course I started worrying that normalcy is bad and regularity equals stagnation, lack of inspiration, boredom and indifference.

Now I realize that's so not true. Of course not. Now, I get the privilege of experiencing new shows and extraordinary life experiences with someone who loves them and me just as much. Last week I finally realized that just because I have a big girl job that doesn't mean I or my life is anything close to boring. Because I have someone in my life who is willing to seek out the weird and extraordinary with me. 

-Fran

Last Week #13 | Roots & Branches

This weekend, I spent three days in the Adirondacks at the Great Camp Sagamore Roots & Branches Music Workshop. (You can learn more about it here.) I’ve never been more nervous than I was the night before and day of our departure. My boyfriend Eli was to spend the weekend at the camp, learning and doing music things, while I was tasked with documenting the weekend and making a video at the end of it. I think it’s safe to say we were both a little terrified. Him, because he wasn’t (and hasn’t been) sure of how he feels about music lately. I in turn felt bad for forcing him into it, and I felt nervous because of the endless marquee of what ifs scrolling through my mind. What if people think I’m weird for lurking around with a camera? What if people think we’re that weird couple that are too attached and can't ever spend a moment apart?  What if I have a panic attack? What if I don’t make them a great, or even good, video? What if I feel uncomfortable? 

 I’ve been on three very different types of trips over the past month. The first was Philadelphia, where four of us were constantly together, doing activities that we chose, facing the days full of bright sunlight and the city and loud, boisterous, college-like activity. The second was the lake with my sister. This is practically the same thing as being at home, except the two of us had to learn how to live in harmony without our electronic devices (and significant other) as a buffer. The challenges were small, and the trip was serene. The last was this trip to the Adirondacks. I think it falls somewhere between Philadelphia and the lake on my scale of anxiety. It wasn’t as action packed as Philly, or as serene as the lake (as no place but home ever can be). There was a serenity to it, sure, and a peace that came with being with Eli, but we also had our fair share of challenges. 

The lack of wifi, as well as the complete lack of cell reception posed a threat to my peace of mind. I can’t communicate with the outside world. I posted a blog post on Friday and I can’t check up on it until Sunday. I can’t soothe myself by looking at Instagram when I feel bored or awkward in a social situation. I had to just stick it out. Eli didn’t like the lack of Wi-Fi, but I’m not going to lie, after a while I kind of came to enjoy it. There was something about it that was a challenge to me. It was about the two of us learning to communicate effectively without texting. Learning to communicate our thoughts, feelings and ideas in the moments we had together, and feeling safe in the moments we spent apart. This is something we struggle with at home, as his house has limited Wi-Fi and no cell reception, and I often find myself anxious when I’m apart from him for this very reason. But the challenges of this weekend made me (and I hope us) more secure in that lack of contact, and more secure in being apart. 

 When I first drafted this post, I wrote, "The biggest wow factor for me on this trip was not being anxious WOW." That was true at first, but by the second night it was not. Anxiety had mounted to something of a peak, and Eli went to bed early, in my mind abandoning me with a world of my own. I felt almost unsafe without him awake, alert, and by my side. This is the part where I would usually insert the lesson-- about how I ventured out on my own at 11:30 at night with just my camera and a vague idea of where the stars were. How I hastily and uncertainly walked to the upper camp, where I had been told you could see the constellations more brightly and clearly than anywhere else in the country. How I looked up, and was amazed, and took a photo, and felt at ease. All that was true, for a moment. And then I went back to the lodge and the anxiety crept back up again, the worries biting me again and again much like the black flies that plagued us outside. 

 I'm the kind of person who really likes...no, needs a home base. In every new place I visit I construct one out of the available materials, like a bird building a nest. I usually build them for myself, and it's a one person nest. In moments of anxiety it includes ginger ale, crackers, and something to do- whether that's working on editing a video or watching some silly YouTube videos. But out there, in the wilderness, in the vulnerability of being in the wild and knowing that you are really minuscule and the world is really big and the sky is even bigger, I learned that my definition of a home base has changed. 

 My home base is now a person, not a place or a construct or a collection of things. And that idea scares me, because what if he goes away? What if he leaves permanently? Will my heart race forever, without this sort of human drug that slows it, calms it down? Have I lost the ability to self regulate? Or have I gained the ability to ask for help? 

 The last time I was in the Adirondack mountains, I was spending the night at my best friend's camp. We watched The Lord of the Rings and kayaked out to a little island and talked about our dreams. But at 1 am, my heart wouldn't slow and my hands wouldn't stop shaking and I worked myself into a frenzy that only calling my mom put at ease. I didn't wake Kelsey up, and didn't even tell her about it until the next morning. But this time, I asked for help. I woke Eli up and he immediately shook off his frustration and put me at ease just by being. Vulnerability is absolutely terrifying. It is what made me shake with nervous excitement all the time when Eli and I first started dating. But it is also what permitted me to fall asleep that second night, and I am beginning to realize that it is what enables us to grow as well. 

 In the hours and hours of musical performances that I watched this weekend, I noticed something. The musicians didn't rush to speak after the music ended. They reveled in the natural silences, those charged, vulnerable, emotional silences, and didn't hasten to fill them. This made the silences that much more comfortable. They were electric, but somehow peaceful, and never awkward. I'm trying to learn how to revel in what some would call "awkward" silences. Because while they feel like an eternity, they're really only a few beats of your heart, and the music is moments away from picking up again. 

 -Fran

P.S.- If you're interested in seeing my video for the Roots & Branches Music Workshop, stay tuned to my YouTube channel. It should be up by the end of this week. In the meantime, check out this short teaser clip I posted on the Great Camp Sagamore Facebook page.

Last Week #10 | It's Always Sunny in #frelidalphia

 A year ago, all of this would have seemed like a dream.  For instance, the fact that I spent the Thursday before Memorial Day in a car crossing state lines with my friends and boyfriend, for a weekend of relaxation? Impossible. You may not know this about me, but much of my anxiety is related to sleeping in new places. So vacations, sleepovers, and weekend trips are things I've come to avoid. But when Kelsey and Sam suggested we take a trip to Philadelphia to visit the infamous La Colombe and just have fun for a weekend, I couldn't turn it down. So I spent the last few months since we booked the trip practicing, preparing, meditating, doing yoga and trying to get myself to a good mental place before we left. 

And when the worst case scenario happened, I survived. I started to have an anxiety attack, late at night when it was time for bed, and I worked through it alone. And then we worked through it together. Things weren’t always perfect on this trip. We got on each other’s nerves, we made mistakes, but most importantly, we learned and grew in spite of it. My friendships and relationships with these people are stronger as a result. I’m glad I nearly had an anxiety attack. Because I'm, no-- we're, freaking better for it. 

On the second day we met up with friends from home, serendipitously in the city the same weekend as us. As we sat there in a strange place talking about the life we'd been living miles away from home, I thought about how nothing new is impossible if you have the right people by your side. Any place can feel like home with them. And it suddenly dawned on me how two of our friends made the seemingly impossible decision to pick up and move to the other side of the country. It’s because they had each other. In that moment I realized that I could do the same, with these people. Because I already had. I took a huge step this weekend. I chose to say "fuck you" to my anxiety and do something I wanted to do anyway. That's no small feat, and a lot of the credit should probably go to me, for being strong enough to do it. But a sizable portion of that credit should be given to my friends, for creating an environment in which I felt safe enough to take chances my anxiety ordinarily wouldn't let me take.

I’ve been thinking a lot about family lately. Who matters, and more specifically why they matter. It's different for everyone, but I think some people cling to the archaic, dictionary definition of family in the hopes of keeping the status quo. But that doesn’t always work. If people are meant to, they will drift away regardless of whether or not you dig your heels in and demand they stay. Family is however you define it. For me, it is a hybrid. It’s the people I live with, sure, but it’s also the people I want to live with. It’s my best friend, her boyfriend, my boyfriend. It’s my boyfriend’s family. It’s my mentors, my therapist, my teachers, the people who inspire me and help me to live my best life. It’s the people who care, basically. 

On this trip, I think I saw a flash of the future. I saw a version of us that I suspect could be the real us. A group of genuinely happy people, full of life and love to give. Talented people who are going places. I knew that about us before, but I saw it more clearly in the bright Philadelphia sunlight. 

For me, this meant letting things go. I’m always connected. To technology, to the world, to my worries and anxiety, to this clear cut version of myself I have in my head. I reply to emails within a few hours of when I receive them (if not minutes). I'm practical. I don't like concerts. I can't go on trips because I have anxiety. But this weekend, I simply didn’t do that. I quit cold turkey. I checked my email maybe once a day, but never replied. I watched the anxieties and worries passing through my head, but didn't buy in or subscribe to any of them. I was as impractical and silly as I am physically capable of being. I went to a concert that I actually loved, discovered why people love concerts, and realized that I would see that artist a million more times live. And I learned something that’s kind of life changing. Nothing matters as much as I think it does in the moment. Like, maybe the long weekend vibes got to me, but I just felt like nothing was all that pressing. I wasn't really missing anything by being off the grid. The grid could wait. I could take time to myself, because people don’t actually email me as much as I think they do. At 9:30 am on a Friday, I laid in my bed in Philadelphia listening to Phil Collins’ Drum Duet and writing, having left all my stress back home. 

You can watch my weekly vlog from this week right here. It's one of my favorites. I can tell this will be a vlog I watch when times are tough, to remind me that it will be okay, or at least... it's always sunny in #frelidalphia.

-Fran

Last Week #4

 Last week was a week of very high highs and very low lows. There was a weird mixture of celebration and crying. It was leisurely, and simultaneously full of work. It was balanced and unbalanced. It was indeterminable. I can't really tell you what last week was. I kind of have to show you.

So, for your viewing pleasure, here is last week.

 -Fran

Not Over OVERDUE

 So...OVERDUE (my YouTube web series that has been premiering since August 2015) is over. The final episode went live on Friday night, March 25th, and I'm still not sure how I feel about it. My emotions are a mixture of happy and sad, to be sure.

I mean, this project has taken up the last year of my life. And while there was a sadness that overtook me when we finished filming, the sadness I feel now is much more subtle, and yet greater. That sadness was palpable. This one is vague, rippling under the surface, overwhelming me in unexpected moments of vulnerability.

You all know that one of my favorite pastimes (because I am a nostalgic piece of garbage), is looking back. Seeing where I was then compared to where I sit now.

In August, I was terrified. I was afraid of people leaving and my life changing and new challenges and what all of these chances I was taking would mean for my future.

In March, I am still terrified, but more confident. I'm more sure of everything I'm doing. I'm surer with every passing day that what I'm doing is right for me.

In August, I had a little get-together at my house on the night the first episode was released. My good friends Sam and Kelsey were there with plenty of good food, as was Eli, the guy who made the theme song, who I didn't really know at that point. I sat next to him on the couch, unsure, uncomfortable, but wanting to be closer.

In March, that same group of four watched the final episode on my laptop in Sam & Kelsey's coffee shop. Then Sam, Kelsey, and Eli took me to dinner to celebrate. I sat close to Eli, knowing there wasn't a limit to how close I could get anymore.

 So much has changed, and so much has happened as a result of this show. This chance I took that I was scared every single day of ruining, of mucking up, has brought so much love and light and life into my world. And I think the fact that I'm so sad to see it go is an indicator of how right I was to take this chance, and a message to my future self to take more.

We're all overdue for something.
Maybe I was overdue for taking a few chances.

-Fran

P.S.- The playlist with all the episodes, minisodes, and trailers is right here, if you're interested in watching!

S I X M O N T H S

 In the last six months...

People moved away. People started a business. People quit their jobs. Two people started a relationship...and not only kept it going, but kept it growing. 

I know in relationship terms six months is barely anything. But for someone who has never been in one before (make that two someone's), it's everything. It can be summed up in the words he said to me on Monday: "Cause we've been dating for six months, and that's a big deal. And I don't want every six months to be a big deal, but years and years."

The fact is I've loved every second we've been together. Even the hard ones where one or both of us were in pain and we had to coax it out from where it was hiding and festering and see it, feel it, and even though it hurt, try to heal it. 

This has been a happy, painful, joyful, healing six months. So much has happened. And while I know I could do it all without him by my side, (I'm an independent woman after all: I lived 19 years without him, and I know I'm capable of more) I don't want to. We're right for each other. I can't wait for the coming moments, but I love the ones we're in. 

Yesterday we spent the day in Rochester, where it kind of all began for us six months ago. We went to three coffee shops in a row, and even though I don't drink coffee, I loved it. I love the coffee shop atmosphere, (as well as really good waffles and next-level tea) and I loved exploring new places with a person I love. Then we hit up this little crystal shop, where I went a little crazy but at the same time maybe I didn't go crazy enough. Last, but certainly not least, was Lush. I bought gifts for my sister for her birthday and "Treat Yo Self" gifts for me, which explains why the number on the receipt was so high. 

I finished the day by doing something that scared the life out of every cell in my body. I was a guest on a local YouTube show, The Life of Reilley, promoting OVERDUE. 

At the end of it, when I was feeling the adrenaline drain from my body and starting to slump over from exhaustion, I recalled what our dear friend Lottie told us to do as she left for California. To take care of ourselves and keep following our dreams. Yesterday I did both, and I'm just so glad I have this group of people to hold my hand while I do it. 

Eli, thanks for dating me. I love you and I like you more every day. 

Sam and Kelsey and Lottie and John, thanks for being my friend. You're the support system that my body wasn't built with, but needs nonetheless. 

I think it's important, whether you're in a relationship or not, to take a step back every few months and evaluate where you are now in comparison to where you were then. Because it's so easy to forget how far we've come, and downplay our achievements. But they're there, because we've made them happen. 


 -Fran

#Caiellafornia

 Yesterday, at approximately 8:45 am, I said goodbye to two of my favorite people. They got in the car and got on the road to their new life in California. I still don't quite have the words to describe how I feel about the whole experience. But I'm going to give it a try anyway.

 Over the past few months, no, since about May of 2015, I've gotten closer and closer to these people until it felt like we were this tight-knit group. My whole life, I've kind of been looking for this group. I've been a part of friend groups and have great friends who I love and will always love, but I think I've been looking for this particular creative, passionate group of do-ers for a while. In 2015, I found it. Or more accurately, we built it. We built our friendship on one fundamental commonality: our dreams. Even though our passions and goals are in a variety of different categories and genres, they all have one thing in common: creativity. We are all actively pursuing creative careers, creative dreams. We know how scary and unsound that is, but we're doing it anyway. So even though one of us wants to be a graphic designer and another a musician and another a writer and another a filmmaker and two others coffee shop owners, we all have in common the passionate pursual of those creative dreams.

 In October two members of our group, Sam and Kelsey, made their dream a reality. Peaks Coffee Company opened it's doors on October 3rd, 2015. Right around then, Lottie and John got word that they might have the opportunity to move to California for the type of job John had always dreamed of. Yesterday they departed on that journey. I feel like Eli and I are still working on making ours happen. Being an artist is weird, because it's so intangible. Every little victory feels enormous at the time, but you look back on it and feel that it wasn't that big of a deal. But it's important to remember that every little victory is a brick in the road building to a bigger one. So I think we're on our way. 

 Yesterday Lottie made us promise that we'd take care of ourselves and keep following our dreams. I didn't have any huge New Year's resolutions for 2016, but I think I just found the one I will be actively pursuing this year. For Lottie, and for the people in my life who are constantly striving to make theirs better. To keep growing. To keep learning. To keep saying yes. That's what this admittedly difficult change has taught me. Lottie & John just said HECK YES to the biggest, scariest change imaginable. They packed up their baby dog and their hopes and fears and dreams in one little car and went for it. And for that I find them endlessly inspiring. 

 Before yesterday, I've never had the experience of crying after a friend has left. I always thought that was because I'm a loner, or emotionless, or something. But after they pulled out of the Peaks parking lot and hit the road, Kelsey and I had a moment not unlike the end of The Holiday. We were both Jude Law, crying helplessly in the back room. While right now I'm mourning the physical departure of two people who understood me in ways I never thought possible, I am also rejoicing in their success at the same time, and feeling grateful for the fact that I still have 4/6ths of our little squad here by my side. 

 Friendship is a really weird, ambiguous thing that I don't think I'll ever understand. But I'm excited to keep learning and growing with these people, whether that's from opposite coasts or fifteen minutes down the road.

 -Fran

This Week [#2: A Little Out of Focus]

Welcome to my week. It was a little out of focus.

  Mondays: When you get boring, mundane things done and it makes you feel like the king of the world... Like finishing a book you've been reading for a month, finishing season 2 of 30 Rock, cleaning your car, and doing laundry.

 Tuesdays: The great thing about going out to breakfast is that it's one less thing you have to do before you leave when you inevitably get up too late because you were having a dream about Evan Peters.

 Wednesdays: When you surprise yourself by writing essays and then the world gets very exhausting.

Thursdays: When you do yoga, draft essays and then FaceTime a two year old.

 Fridays: When you get a check in the mail that you weren't expecting, which feels like a sign from the universe that you're on the right track, so you decide to go home the long way round and experience some truly gorgeous views.

 Saturdays: When you find yourself scream-singing the new Adele album, both with your best friend in her coffee shop at too early of an hour, and alone in your car at a much later one.

Sundays: When you go to "breakfast" that ends up being both breakfast and lunch, (but not brunch) and then buy too many cozy winter items at Target, and then feel the sweet relief of knowing that your favorite character is okay.

This week, I felt a little out of focus. A little all over the place. I got things done without planning to, and other things cropped up that I didn't plan either. Basically, it was a week of the unexpected, the unplanned, but not unpleasantly so. I felt out of focus, off kilter, but life was still beautiful. I'm excited for the coming week of holidays and being reunited with people I love. Thinking about that as I go into this week. I like this blog format, because it's a place to catch my thoughts as they come. It's usually formal and polished, but it's also natural.

  -Fran

On Observing

 Lately I’ve been trying to observe. I feel like I’ve been “doing” less, but that’s because I’m trying to observe the life happening around me. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I’m a human being, not a human doing, and it’s enough for me to simply appreciate my life for the wholly un-whole mess it is right now. It really is a beautiful mess. Full of complete and incomplete moments. It’s the best it’s ever been, and all it’s ever been. But I’m constantly afraid that it’s on the verge of coming undone. Unraveling. Unwinding. 

 But that can’t be because for once I’m not, my life isn’t, wound too tightly. It’s loose, hanging in the balance, because there is finally a balance to hang from. There’s finally something to rely on. I’ve finally found something I’d be afraid to lose. Something worth losing. But that’s great, because at least that’s something. Something worth losing was the best thing I ever had.

 The something worth losing is the fireplace warmth on the cold fall nights with the people I love who all love each other. Playing silly games and eating decadent but simple things together. I can hear it. I can feel it. The warmth, the happiness, the laughter spilling over from one person to the next. It’s catching. This season of generosity and warmth-- I’m going to keep saying warmth because that’s what it feels like. It’s so cold out but the interactions between people, between these people, we people, are so warm and friendly and growing and catching and lively and heated and energetic. There is this nervous, fervent, bubbling energy. And I'm beginning to understand, in my twentieth year, that that's what lasting friendship consists of.

 -Fran