Month: March 2018

Zombies and Redemption.

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So, I have a confession, I actually dared to watch a movie featuring zombies. I doubt any of you are really shocked, what do you know about my tastes, that’s pretty normal now.

Well it’s not for me, but I gave this one a pass because the zombies in it aren’t brain-eating monsters…except for ten seconds.

This movie was a Disney Channel Original, this movie was their average, not terrible, but not good.

Zombies, which is the full title, is about a post-post apocalyptic world, where in a very Divergent fashion, humans are split into two groups, those who are normal, and those who are infected with some virus that made them into zombies…because someone spilled lime soda on some electric device.

Yeah, WordGirl Levels of sense.

But this movie is for kids and younger teens, so I’ll let the silliness slide. The last thing I need is for horror movies to be a DCOM thing.

The story is about a boy zombie, named Zed, and a normal girl, who of course fall in love and unite to overturn cultural expectations. Since zombies are stigmatized and ostracized.

The whole thing is an obvious metaphor for privileged whites keeping down blacks and Hispanics. The zombies get all the worse jobs, they go to separate schools until the integration act that kicks off this movie.

The movie has one interesting turn. Zed uses his zombie powers to become good at football, but he is endangering himself and everyone else in the process because the only thing keeping him stable is a special watch that sends calming signals to their brain. So there’s that.

When Zed convinces his friend Eliza to help him override his watch slightly so he can win the games, people start to accept the zombies, but unfortunately the anti-zombie kids hijack the signal and send Zed, Eliza, and their other friend into full on zombie death mode. Though Zed seems to resist it briefly.

For awhile things start to go terribly wrong, but then the girl Zed likes fixes everything by having he zombies and cheerleaders unite to win the cheer champions ship…which they don’t, but they do end up bring humans into zombie territory and end with a happy song and dance number.

It was stupid; but the elements of the movie do call for some closer examination, not because the movie is brilliant but because the way it was made reflects a lot about what the writers think teens are into and what they think we should be concerned about.

The biggest problem with this movie is that is mishandled the zombie thing entirely. It made it a metaphor for race, but the zombie virus is a way closer metaphor for mental or social disabilities.

Comparing it to Autism would have been smarter. Like the zombies, autistic people can have triggers that make them go ballistic, they could hurt people. So can other special needs kids. And they can’t help it, necessarily.

It’s a pertinent question to ask how much special needs kids should be allowed to mingle with “normal” ones. There are real dangers to both us and them if they lose it, or get bullied, but is there a greater danger if we don’t learn to understand each other? I think there is.

That’s a worthwhile conversation to have, but this movie doesn’t have it. The cheerleaders who mess up the special watches just to get the zombies to go nuts are never caught, the zombies never even bring it up to them, at the end of the movie they are all cool. Even though the brats could easily have gotten someone killed. They almost did, in fact. There’s no lasting impact from that very serious problem.

All we get is Eliza whining about how they took all the blame.

In all fairness if Eliza hadn’t been screwing with the watches to begin with, the cheerleaders couldn’t have done it. Eliza shows no remorse or horror for what she did, Zed admits it was wrong, but he lingers no longer on it. The girl he likes doesn’t chew him out. Nothing.

It’s no use, in a story like this, to pretend that Zombies aren’t different. The age old problem “Should we blame them for what happened before they were born?” presents itself. Should we punish people for something that is not their fault?

And yet whether we like it or not, in real life kids do get punished for what isn’t their fault. They bear the brunt of other people’s mistakes.

We all have to choose what we will do about the problems we face, but it doesn’t follow that we’ll all make good choices.

This movie slightly touches on that when Eliza wants to sabotage the cheer championship, but it deflates almost instantly. She’s talked out of it in twenty seconds. Zed brings up the point that if they behave that way then they are the monsters everyone thinks they are.

Which  is a good point, but it wasn’t fleshed out to really mean much.

And is it problematic to use zombies at all? They are monsters, they do bad things, and we’d be justified in killing them if they were real. They aren’t human, strictly speaking. Though the movie uses it differently, still it leaves the brain-eating nastiness in there (I thought that was a mistake) then we do have to wonder, why should the humans want them around?

I have a problem with making monsters “relatable” the only reason I might have gone with it for this movie is because monster can be a metaphor, and a powerful one. Just not this time.

That’s an okay way to illustrate, I’ve used the example of zombies myself to teach kids in Sunday school what being spiritually dead might look like. It can work.

Comparing zombies to a certain race isn’t going to work because having a different skin color doesn’t make you a monster prone to eating people.

Making that cool isn’t good. It misses the point. When you admit that there’s something wrong with you, you can be helped. There can be redemption. Forgiveness.

But the more we try to justify our issues, the more ridiculous the situation becomes. The most grotesque things become acceptable.

The idea is to be removed from all that, set apart, cleansed. That’s the idea of holiness the bible talks about.

We’re all, you might say, infected with the virus of sin. We all try to control it, much like with the watches, some of us try to harness it, ultimately we end up hurting people because sin hurts. The wage of sin is death.

It’s not our fault we’re born into it, but we constantly make choices that make us weaker to it, and that is our fault. (See the parallels?)

I think the movie reflects our attitude toward perfection. We think that if we as a species can work together we might overcome our differences and dangers.

Wonder Woman is wiser, she knows that each of us has our own darkness we have to face, and love is what will make us able to do it.

So, that was a lot of thought for such a dumb movie, but sometimes figuring out what went wrong can be more work.

Until next time–Natasha.

Memoirs of a Babysitter.

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So I just watched the Nanny Diaries. This won’t be a review so much as what my English Professor calls a “Development parallel.” That is to say, cause and effects that are similar.

I only babysat (regularly) once, it was for one family and I haven’t been employed in that way since.

I watched three children. In the beginning it was only two, but then the mom decided to pull her oldest out of school because she didn’t like her teacher, and to home-school her. So, me being home-schooled, she thought I’d be down with that. And I was. I was even willing to help the kid out. So far so good.

And trust me, if I’d seen the Nanny Diaries before that time, I would probably have thought it was exaggerated for comedic effect. I’m sure if you saw it you thought so, unless you’ve been in a long term babysitting position.

The only difference between being a babysitter and being a nanny is title and hours and you don’t live in the home.

The job was fine at first, I liked the kids, I put up with the temper of the baby, and I stayed calm.

Then I made the mistake of thinking corporal punishment was accepted in their house, the oldest told me it was, but it wasn’t. (I assume they told me the truth the second time but with them you never knew.) I know that will horrify someone, but when I grew up spanking was normal-ish and I never had a problem with it. Get over it people, not all of us had progressive parents.

Well, I realized my mistake (and I never actually spanked the kids just to clarify, I threatened it but thought better of it later.) But my fate was sealed.

Things went downhill from there. I really think my mistake had very little to do with it, but it started it. After that, I never knew what the expectations were.

I entered the employment with the understanding that housework would be appreciated but was not required, that I did not have to cook for the kids because the oldest liked doing it though of course I was to feed them. (They had stuff on hand naturally.)

I put the kids in time out when they sassed me and refused to do as I said (not corporal punishment right?) And then they told their mother on me. I’m sure claiming that it was unprovoked, but trust me, it wasn’t. I wasn’t locking them the garage for Pete’s sake, I made them sit in a comfy chair. Was that cruel? No! But their mom still wondered what my problem was.

Can you see where I’m going with this?

At fist the mom told the kids to respect me, but they continued to be disrespectful quite frequently. Especially the eldest one. The younger one never was a problem till her sister set the example.

Then it just got ridiculous. I’m going to list all the over the top things in the Nanny Diaries that actually happened to me:

  1. Getting spied on. No cameras here, no, actual people were at the house, no warning half the time. Completely strangers were just there, watching me and reporting back to the mom. Why? Because her little angels were saying I was dong such a bad job.
  2. Getting a consultant. I wasn’t told tot each the kids French. But I was subjected to a “training” to be a better babysitter. Training really meant I was being supervised and made to do the chores and cook meals. (Even though originally that wasn’t part of the deal. Something my employer conveniently forgot.) I was also put down in front of the kids constantly for not being a good enough babysitter.
  3. Having men around when I was alone with the kids. Yes, the men were relatives. But still, awkward. My dad didn’t like it either.
  4. Getting fired after I did everything my boss said but still didn’t meet some unclear standard. Of course, she didn’t call it firing, she just said she might need me later but for now someone else was taking over.

Ugh.

It drove me crazy. But honestly, I wish that was all in the movie I could relate to. Aside from my complaints, The Nanny Diaries actually shows a very real problem that caregivers like me have: Letting go.

Like Annie, I observed a lot about the kids that the parents were too busy or just chose not to notice. I noted how one of them didn’t get enough attention because the other two were louder and pushier, and how one needed to be treated with more firmness, and the eldest, though she was a pain, wasn’t a bad kid and if she’d been taught respect and shown some more gentle ways, she would have been exceptional.

Babysitters get involved because we can’t help it. If you don’t like kids to begin with you’ve got no business babysitting, and if you like kids you will learn to love them. It’s not hard, children are way more lovable then adults.

And babysitters, because we like kids, and especially if we like to mother them, will study the kids we watch and we will want to help them. It’s part of us.

And that’s why we don’t get along with the parents.

I suspect, secretly, the parents feel guilty that they even need us around, that’s why they keep firing and rehiring. but though it may sting to have your kids turn to someone other than you for comfort, if you can’t be there, then maybe the kids need that stability.

I have no wish to come down on working moms, or dads, nor do I think it can never work out being a babysitter, nanny, or Au pair, and their employer. There’s a delicate balance but it can be achieved. My grandma takes care of my cousins all week without becoming estranged from their parents.

but the truth is, it’s not easy. Often the best babysitters don’t last because the sad fact is the less involved ones make the parents a lot less uncomfortable.

I was no saint, but I cared. I expected that to mean something, it turns out it meant trouble. And it broke my heart to leave those kids. It’s something I haven’t really gotten over even now. To tell you the truth, like Annie, I’m kind of asking why. What was the point of loving them if I had to leave them? And is this kind of love even what kids need? Or do parents just need to be the ones who are there?

Again, not to come down on working parents, but I have to ask the honest question, what does my experience show?

I doubt I’ll ever get the letter from my former boss telling me I showed her something about her kids. I don’t think she wanted me to show her anything.

And I’m left hoping I changed something, just like Annie, but not knowing if I did. Not knowing if my love will mean anything to those kids once their older.

I never had a babysitter like me. I liked mine, but they only watched me a few times, and only once in a while. Not four days a week for two months or more.

I liked the job, but it costs you.

Those are my thoughts one that, sorry this ran so long but it was a memoir.

Until next time–Natasha.

 

Standing in the Need of Prayer.

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“It’s me, it’s me, it’s me, oh Lord, standing in the need of prayer. It’s me, it’s me, it’s me, oh Lord, standing in the need of prayer.

Not my brother nor my sister but it’s me, oh lord, standing in the need of prayer. Not my brother nor my sister but it’s me, oh lord, standing in the need of prayer.

Not the elder nor the deacon but it’s me, oh lord, standing in the need of prayer.

Not my father nor my mother, but it’s me oh lord, standing in the need of prayer.

Not the stranger, nor my neighbor but it’s me oh lord, standing in the need of prayer. 

Standing in the need of prayer.”

This song used to strike me as selfish. Come on, none of the rest of these people need prayer? Get over yourself.

But since reading Toni Morrison’s “Strangers.” I see this song, particularly the last verse, differently.

Morrison thinks that we find in strangers a part of ourselves. That we wich to merge with them, to draw them into ourselves and so regain whatever we’ve lost. In my previous post I talked about that feeling at length.

Now I just want to look at this song, and what its words mean if you see it all as the person singing saying “When all these people are in need of prayer, I am too. Because we’re all part of the same body.”

When we pray for humanity, are we really praying for ourselves? Not for our petty problems (or sometimes serious problems) but for what we hope to have in our own suffering.

I think we may have genuinely selflessreasons to pray. But Jesus specifically told us to look on others as worthy of the same love we would show ourselves. Even when they weren’t deserving of it.

I’m not inot all this “we’re all one, in each other,” wierdness. Not ot the extent it’s taken to, tat we literally are inside each other and acting dependently. We may be depednent, but it’s not in the way that implies.

No, our hearts and minds are our own to guard and keep, and no one else can do it for us completely. Even God Himself leaves a lot of it up to us to choose. That’s the price of being free.

But we are connected in a way. We all suffer, we all have joys, we all share the human experience. And that’s not something to take lightly.

So when someone is suffering in the body, as Paul says, all the rest suffer with it.

The usffering of christians in the middle east is my suffering also. I don’t die, I don’t feel ohysical pain, but deep down the knowledge that they suffer affects me. I may not think it does, bu it does.

Becauase we share the same faith, we’re connected.

My faith connects me more to other christians, but my hunaity connects me toe veryone else.

That’s why I can feel pity for someone like Hitler or Stallin, I know what it is to be human and to fall. And I know what it is to rise up. I wish they could ahve.

My shared experience is all that enables me to pity them and motivates me to help others.

I note that shared experience can pass between humans and animals also, and even, some might say, being humans and other spiritual beings. There’s an ungodly trend going around of pitying the devil in shows and movies and books (Paradise Lost might be the most famous example of this) and while I don’t see why it’s popular, especially if you don’t believe in the devil anyway, it’s only possible because we have spirits, otherwise how could we understand them at all?

Of course that will be denied, but this post isn’t about that so I’m not going into it.

The point is, when you’re in the need of prayer, or of love, or of anything really, you will know better how much other people are in need of it. When you need help, someone else does.

I’ve seen this in my own life, my own suffering has been frustrating to me, but looking around I see how other’s share similar physical and emotional pain to me, and maybe when I pray for myself, I need to pray for them too.

We’re all standing in the need of prayer.

Christian or no, I hope this post was enjoyable to you. I seem to be on a grave bent tonight, but it’s where my mind was.

Until next time–Natasha.

 

The Bus Driver.

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You know those moments that people tell stories about? The ones that Christian authors use to impart spiritual lessons, and pastors do it too, to the point where it’s almost annoying. You want to say “Not everything has to be a lesson, man!”

Well, I have one of those stories tonight.

I’ve been taking the bus to college, as you know. (Sounds like the title of an article doesn’t it?) And last night I noticed something as I got on: I tapped my pass and the driver said “Thank you.”

I thought “Why’s he thanking me? He’s the one putting in hours of his life doing a really boring job that no one appreciates him for, though they should because I sure as heck don’t have the patience to be a bus driver.”

I know the driver just meant to be friendly. That was what struck me. He wasn’t being polite, just friendly. Trying to make the rather isolated situation a little more comfortable.

To the best of his efforts, since we aren’t allowed to talk to bus drivers unnecessarily. Of course I know that’s for safety reasons, but what a lonely way to make a living if you can hardly even talk to the people you see all day. And you don’t have a co-worker there to cheer you up either.

I feel awkward just in the 12-15 minutes I spend on the bus not knowing anyone.

I’m pretty sure way back when the public transportation thing got going, there wasn’t a rule about talking to the driver. And I’m certain that other passengers at least used to talk to each other. It’s sad to see all the young students on the bus make awkward eye contact with each other, but bury themselves in their phones rather than strike up a conversation.

We’ve been raised with the idea that talking to strangers is bad, and dangerous, and worst of all, unnecessary. That’s the killer isn’t it? We feel that as long as we have our electronic transactions, we don’t need to talk. even bus passes are just card stickers now, no eye contact is even required.

And I see this, and I think to myself, we’re so lonely. We’re just starving to connect with each other.

It’s not that we want to connect on some soul level with every human we meet. I think we want to feel part of their world, just as they, in a small way, are part of ours. We might never see them again, but they were people, and we were interested in them just because of that.

Though most of us would agree general kindness is a good thing, very few of us stop to think what common courtesy and kindness require, that you care. That you see other people as beings who shape your world and are in it and whom you owe some recognition just as they owe you some, because that’s what it is to be human.

To be ignored is perhaps the most inhuman of practices that we do on a regular basis, and I think we feel it deep down, we know something’s not right.

When I do happen to strike up a conversation with someone I don’t know, I always feel it’s a bit of an awkward trade off. You ask the culturally acceptable small talk questions, (which have been disdained by the more withdrawn folks of society, but are in place for a very good reason) but you don’t really feel like you can trust them. Still you try to make things more comfortable by being more familiar, because somehow we feel less afraid when we know someone, even if it’s just their name. Even if they didn’t tell it to us, we just heard them called by it.

We yearn to know things about each other. I don’t think it’s just busybodies who feel that way. It’s everyone. We’ve all looked at a particular stranger and wondered what their life was like, and we wish we could be in it somehow, because maybe we’d find something there that’s missing in our own world.

I’m not the first to think of this, there’s an insightful essay called Strangers by Toni Morrison that I recommend you check out.

What the bus driver, and myself by my slight smile and nod in response, are trying to do is reestablish something we feel we’ve lost.

My question is, is it just this generation that’s lost it? Or have people felt this way ever since we left Eden? I see something of it it Cain’s plea to God after he is sentenced to wander the earth. “Anyone who finds me will kill me,” as if he doesn’t know who that anyone might be.

Abraham said “I am a stranger in a strange land” but he still tried to have peace with some of the land’s inhabitants.

Being strangers and being estranged don’t seem to be the same thing. One is a fact of life because we can’t know everyone, the other is a deliberate choice to be shut off from the rest of the world.

In that sense, the person like me who has spent most of her days at home may yet be less a stranger to others then the person who closes them-self off to feeling or knowing anything about them.

I think we are hungry as a whole to reconnect somehow, but we don’t know the secret. I think technology has only provided the mask to hide behind so that we no longer know this, people used to know that being strangers was a sad thing.

Until next time–Natasha

(P. S. Watch for a new movie review in the next week or so, I’m planning on doing a DCOM.)

You’re allowed to rest.

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We’re springing forward  tonight. I don’t know if every country uses daylight savings but I doubt it. Daylight savings means that twice a year we set our clocks back an hour or forward an hour, depending on whether it’s the spring or fall one. So 7:00 becomes 8:00 when we go forward.

In other news, I made salmon for the first time. (My favorite fish.) It’s pretty easy. And for those of my followers who pray, please toss one up for my extended family. A bunch of them just got the nasty flu that’s been going around. Ugh. I was lucky to escape it so far and I want to keep it that way.

I was surprised by how many people responded to my last post about Burnout. I knew it was a big thing, I just didn’t think people were that interested in reading about it. I didn’t even give any tips for dealing with it.

Which is mostly because I don’t have that many. But other sources do and I’ve heard a few over the past few days that might help you out.

First, rest.

It’s the obvious one. But we neglect it shamefully. Don’t be “on” all the time. Today I deliberately didn’t do homework or that much physical labor. I slowed down, read, watched a movie or two, played games with my family, spent some time outside before it started raining, and spent my time with God.

Which is the second thing, though I know not everyone can or will implement that. But one christian to another, please, do this more. Unless you’re better at doing it then me, in which case I take my hat off to you. Of course being spiritual is not a contest of favorites or superiority, but it is something you have to do on purpose. I find the best way to just relax with God is to worship. Music is a great stress reducer when you pick the right songs, especially worship ones. Surprisingly, I’ve heard that even non Christians find christian music relaxing or fun. (I recommend Bethel, Hillsong, Jesus Culture, Laura Hacket, and Jason Upton, to name a few. I also like Switchfoot.)

If you don’t want to do that, then even listening to regular music, if it’s happy or upbeat or soothing, often helps me relax. It can take my mind off the things that bother me.

Third, and this is a big one, let it go at the end of the day.

I used to do that thing all the time where I’d go to bed and start thinking about everything I had to do the next day. Or about all the things I failed to do that day. And I mean everything from controlling my temper to doing a chore. Even blogging.

I actually thought it would help to plan things out. I might be more organized.

But, surprising no one I’m sure, that never worked. I would forget the plans I made by morning; but I would certainly stress myself out in the meantime. That effect lingers.

If you didn’t do everything you wanted, or needed to do, don’t lose sleep over it. Unless you have to turn something in by tomorrow and absolutely won’t have time in the morning (and I mean if you have to rush somewhere, not if you want to waste time watching a show or whatever,) I would say don’t do it. Just go to sleep. Do something fun with your spouse if you’re married. But let it go. You’ll work better after a good night’s rest anyway.

Another tip is to read. Read something you like, something you want to read. Something that takes you out of yourself for awhile. But avoid books about self help or goals when you’re trying to chill. They are guaranteed to make you feel like you’re not doing enough. There’s a time and place for that written kick in the pants, but an off day is not one of them.

And go outside for goodness sake. Find a safe park or a garden, or your own back yard. Don’t take any electronics. Or keep it in your pocket if you do. Just enjoy it.

Keep in mind screens are stressful. Especially white ones. But even TV can stress you out further or at the very least not do any good. Unless it’s a really good movie that you like, TV usually does nothing to relieve stress.

That’s about all I know. There’s always diet and exercise habits, but I’m not an authority on those. All I can suggest is fruit and pleasant walks.

And I was talking about what to don on off days in order to relax, not how to fix your life. Though a little rest can go a long way.

Most of all you need to give yourself permission to rest and detox. Even if you can’t afford pampering, and can’t set aside a whole day just to take it easy, you can set aside time on one day to do something for yourself. Remember that you deserve a little me-time just as much as your kids, family, or friends do.

It’s okay to need it, really. Don’t think you’re tough enough to go on without ever taking a break. It’s humble to rest.

Until next time–Natasha.

Burnout.

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Yikes, I haven’t had the time or energy to blog in days!

Not that I’m all important, but one has to stay in the habit.

College is still going well, but this second week I hit burnout. I just did not want to be there and be carrying around my heavy backpack. Though one of my teacher says I can leave the course book at home and just use paper if I want, and since I’m already carrying a notebook that’s one less extra thing. Yay!

I am spending two thirds of my day or more at campus, so burnout is bound to happen. I’m not used to being around strangers, in class, or walking all over that much. It’s a lot to get used to.

But I couldn’t figure out why the day after I was so exhausted. I felt more tired the next day than I did while I was actually there. (Comment if this happens to you too. Am I alone in this?)

Of course my muscles hurt from all the extra weight and it’s hard on your shoulders to have backpack straps sitting on them so much. But this tiredness was deeper than that. You can have sore muscles and still be energetic.

I was tired inside. And not because my brain was overwhelmed, though that might be a small part of it, but because I’m emotionally exhausted.

I can endure a lot when I’m at ease. I’m not a super athletic person (to understate the case) but I’m tougher than I look. I’ve walked miles and managed not to keel over. Which is pathetic compared to what people used to have to walk, but I’m not in practice.

Maybe a lot for me is a little for someone else. Certainly the older adults in my life don’t think much of my difficulties. Soldier on, they would say. Of course I’m more active than some of them, but hey, one is over seventy years old.

My mom is the one who amazes me. She’s always busy. If she’s not working her own job, she’s working with my dad, or running errands for him. When she is home she’s doing laundry or finances, or helping with schoolwork. (Not mine of course, wink.) Etc. You can fill in the rest.

Me? I try to do a few things. But I don’t have to do most of them. Maybe that’s why I don’t.

Yet, it isn’t exactly fair to compare myself to my mom. She’s had decades of experience. I’ve had a couple years of even knowing how to do most things, and a few months of even having a Driver’s License.

I heard today that Millennials (Me) and Gen X-ers, ( who ought to be calling themselves X-men if you ask me,) are the most stressed people in the country. I think Millennials are twenty to thirty year olds, or slightly younger, and Gen X are their parents or older siblings. I’m not sure, it’s always changing. Let’s just say people under 40 or 50. You’d think it’s be middle-aged folks, wouldn’t you? But they are more established.

And get this, if you live with family, parents especially, who are stressed out a lot, you can pick it up from them. even if you have nothing personally to be stressed over.

Which totally explains why I had a terrible time when I was younger with feeling anxious, even though I had an “easy” life.

Actually work or no work doesn’t make your life easier. Sometimes people from very messed up backgrounds go on to lead very productive lives. And some of them aren’t stressed out constantly either. Often that’s because of their faith, but there’s a few cases where it’s not. For whatever reason, those children make a different choice and grow up to be better people then their parents

And then there’s the rest of us who seem to be more influenced by our parents then we could ever imagine. Even if our parent’s were good to us, they weren’t always good to each other or to people outside our family. That has an effect on us.

And it ties in to my college experience, your job, your hobbies, our families, etc.

The reason being around so many strangers stresses me out is because I’ve grown up hearing strangers are dangerous. Which is sadly true so much of the time. Yet it’s not often the people who are cautious about strangers who get attacked by them, funny how that works.

Maybe I also just don’t know how to handle people very well. I never have. Even though I can be friendly enough to them, it’s not the same as having true social grace.

But do you know what? I’ve had the curse of no social skills spoken over me for years. Even before I even has a real chance to test mine. I’ve been told I wouldn’t make friends, I wouldn’t know how, I would upset people if I acted a certain way. Before I ever acted that way with my target friend group.

And now I struggle with feeling socially confident. Oh, bit shocker there. It’s a self fulfilling prophecy.

Now, I can wallow in this, or I can work through this. I choose to believe that I can learn social skills. I just need practice, perception, and patience. I’ve also learned that some people will overlook your lack of social grace because they know they struggle with it too.

Which is, by the way, not something anyone every bothered to tell me when they warned me about how I would fail.

People do forgive you. Not all of them, but some will. Stick with those ones, they’re better friends anyway.

That’s all for this post, but I’ll be keeping you updated as I expect to learn a lot from this experience. Until next time–Natasha.