Anyway, I’ve been pondering relationships lately. And recently, as I was standing in my shower reflecting on the mysteries of life and love and the universe, I thought about the guys I’ve dated. I thought about the guy I started dating most recently. Upon thinking about why I date(d) said individual(s), the thought came,

“He makes me feel special.”

I froze, temporarily immobilized by the truth–and the frightfulness–of those words. I immediately thought to myself, “But my specialness needs to come from inside me!”

I feel very strongly that both parties in a relationship should be encouraging and uplifting to one another; however, I think a relationship is healthiest when neither party is dependent upon the other for constant validation in order to consistently feel worthy of love. And, judging by my earlier internal monologue, I have a little work to do to get to that level of self-assurance, self-reliance, self-esteem, and–dare I say it?–self-actualization.

I’ve experienced that state of being before–one in which I’m completely accepting of myself as I am, in which I’m comfortable in my own skin, in which I don’t need anybody else to tell me I’m pretty or smart or talented or destined for great things because I know all of that myself, truly madly deeply down inside the very core of my soul. I would love to figure out what I was doing during those periods of my life so that I could do it ALL THE TIME and, therefore, feel that awesome all the time. I’m working on that. I think I’ve got a little bit figured out. But you’ll have to read my next blog to find out what it is

PS, readers, I’ve missed you. And for those of you who are new, Hi!

Change is an interesting thing. It can be exciting. It can be scary. It can be welcomed. It can be hard. It can mean progress. It can mean regression. But one constant about change is that it happens around all of us, to all of us, and in all of us. And it always means some sort of transition.

I’ve been faced with some interesting changes and transitions lately: new school year, new friends, new insights and experiences; challenges, choices, and bittersweet consequences. Some of these changes have been awesome (as in, I change my study habits and my grades miraculously improve!), and some of them have been really, really tough. There have been many misty-eyed moments and more than a few tears shed as I’ve faced a few things I really didn’t want to deal with as well as things that fill my heart with so much joy that it overflows and spills out my eyes.

And through all of this, I really feel like I’m making progress. I’m learning to accept the change that inevitably comes. I’m learning that change is ok. I’m learning that, no matter what, there is always somebody there who supports and loves me. I’m learning to see the blessings that surround me even in the face of difficulties. And I’m learning to see each and every day as the new start that it is. If you are doing the same, I’d love to hear about it. It’d be really nice to know that, somewhere in this big world, there’s somebody who’s going through the same thing I am. Let’s support each other, huh?

But seriously, dude, I love “win” situations. I love it when they happen in the world in general (like the fact that fishnet stockings exist AND I can buy them at Target for like $5? Winning!), when they happen to people I love (like when my sister calls me up with an awesome story often involving her and a random beautiful boy flirting with her in some way. Hello, winning!), and, of course, when they happen to me (like all of the above, and then some).

Sadly, though, not everything in life is full of win in the way we’d like it to be. There are bills to be paid, meals to be made, and a whole bunch of other semi- or more-than-semi-unpleasant things to do. But why would we, who are obviously total rock stars from Mars with tiger blood, man, do ANYTHING that isn’t full of win?

I’ll tell you why.

You see, I am in grad school. In grad school, they like to give you this pesky little thing called homework. And classes. And after a certain amount of homework and classes, they give you tests. Which are evil. Yes. So recently, I was between exam weeks and just had my normal (still ridiculous) workload on top of me. I got to the weekend, and I was behind. I also had gone without cutting my hair for…a very long time. I had lots of studying to do. I had *not* a lot of time. I needed a haircut. Haircuts require spending money AND time. Neither of which I like to spend. Do you see my dilemma?

Well, I texted a friend in the hair business. She had time to cut my hair that day. I waffled…I thought…and I decided to go for it. I drove across town to her salon, bringing my notes with me. I even got caught behind a train, so I studied while I waited. I got to the salon, she cut my hair, and I looked darn cute. I paid for my haircut, I got in my car, and I went home, where I was SUPER productive for the rest of the afternoon.

And why was I super productive? Because I rewarded myself. I’d worked hard through the week; the week before had been an intense exam week; and I knew I needed something to remind me that I was not a study robot whose sole purpose in life was to cram as much information into my head as possible, but that I was instead a) a human, b) a female, and c) actually quite attractive. I felt better about myself, and I’d taken a little break from my stress and given some time to myself. It felt good.

I am an incredibly rewards-driven person. When I don’t have rewards set up, I don’t get as much accomplished. When I do, I work towards them, and not only do I achieve a lot, but I also feel super awesome.

Here’s the crazy thing: I know this about myself–I know I work so much better if I reward myself for my hard work–and I still almost didn’t follow through on the reward I wanted. There was a little voice inside me that said I hadn’t worked hard enough and didn’t deserve it. But I decided to take it anyway, and lo and behold, the big voice–the one that said, “For crying out loud, Marta, you need a break!!!”–was right.

So here’s the moral of the story: if you’re finding yourself lacking motivation (a state of being with which I am intimately familiar), set yourself up a reward. Say, “When I finish this project/get all the dishes done/make it through this week without strangling anyone and completely losing my sanity, I get to paint my nails/get a haircut/watch the new episode of Suits.” Establish a reward. Don’t let yourself have it early, but do let yourself have it. You’ve earned it. And you’ll have something tangible that says, “YES! I AM awesome and accomplished and…

…winning ”

And I sat there completely dumbfounded.

I expressed my shock, and asked him why on earth I fit into that category. He told me. I was still a little flabbergasted, but I regained composure and we continued our conversation.

But, I mean, seriously. I don’t think anyone’s ever said something like that to me before; I didn’t really know how to deal with it. Which might explain why I am thinking about it all. the. time. and trying to figure out how to handle such a high compliment.

So I thought about it. And I pondered. And I read Karin’s blog from Monday, and I thought and pondered some more. And the thought came to me, “do you know how amazing you are?”

Now, I’m very blessed. I have family members and friends and loads of people who tell me how much they love me and appreciate me and think I’m great. In addition to (and probably partly as a result of) that, I like to think that at least most of the time, I have a fairly healthy self-image and sense of personal worth. But do I, Marta, know how amazing I am? How amazing am I? What does that mean?

See, I’ve been pondering love and life and boyfriends recently. Many of my friends are really upset because they don’t have boyfriends. Many feel inadequate because they’re not married. Some of them feel that they are the only ones among their group of friends who aren’t married/having kids…and they’re 18.

And it sort of drives me crazy that still, in this day and age, there are women in American society that feel that somehow they are invaluable, incomplete, and/or incapable of happiness or validation without a man in their lives. I just want to put my arms around them (and maybe shake them a little bit) and declare loudly that it’s not true! Being single and being happy are NOT mutually exclusive.

Let me put the brakes on and clarify one thing before we go on, though. I’m NOT saying that women and men don’t need each other. I’m not saying that relationships are unnecessary. And I’m certainly not denying the fact that healthy relationships between men and women bring a special kind of happiness into both individuals’ lives. All I’m saying is that a woman doesn’t need to sit around and wait for Prince Charming (or any other creature possessing a Y chromosome) to show up in order to feel like a valid human being.

Case in point: me. (This isn’t meant to be shameless self-promotion; I just know my life better than I know anybody else’s, so I’m going with what I know here.) I’m a capable, responsible adult who knows how to do her own laundry and dishes and can cook an entire meal (several, in fact) from salad to dessert from scratch (and everything but the desserts without a recipe). I have my bachelors’ degree and am currently obtaining more education. I play six instruments and speak three languages. I have awesome friends and a wonderful family, all of whom are supportive of me as I live my dreams. Do I need a rock on my finger to make my life awesome? NO. My life is awesome anyway, with or without a man.

Now, here’s the deal. I’ve shoved my opinion on you; I want to hear yours. Do you think that people, women or men, can lead fulfilling lives in the absence of a romantic partner? Or, more specifically, do you think one cannot be truly happy and fulfilled until one is married? I’d LOVE to hear your thoughts–especially if they are different from mine

But you’re probably thinking what I was thinking: colic is for babies–literally! I am NOT a baby, last time I checked. So how’d I get it? And most importantly, when and how was it going to go away???

So I called my mom again, writhing in agony and complaining all the while, trying to figure out what to do. My mom, in all her awesomeness, commiserated with me. She’d never felt pain like mine, but she knew from others’ experience that it was no fun, and expressed sympathy for what I was going through. She said I never wanted a colicky baby (although, thanks to Dr. Internet, I now know what to do with one). And I said maybe I was going through this now so my future children wouldn’t have to. Or if I did have a colicky baby, I thought, I would understand the pain she would experience, and thus be more patient with her (even if she’s crying and writhing in inconsolable agony in the middle of the night).

Maybe that seems far-fetched to you. But I really think that sometimes–often, even–we experience pain and suffering not just for our benefit, but for the benefit of others. I can think on my past, and see how I was able to draw on my experiences to help–or even just simply understand–a friend or loved one. I can think of times where others have done the same for me.

We are all connected through our experiences. What have you experienced that has allowed you to help or bond with another? When have you been on the receiving end of such a special occurrence? And can you look at your current trials as not a punishment or a learning experience solely meant for you, but as a way of preparing you to help someone in the future?

I know that when I look into the face of my screaming, colicky child, I’ll know my pain was not wasted. It’s worth the pain now to connect with her later. Well worth it

Now, what they meant was, “the special of today,” but as I started to look at it and analyze it a little (like I am wont to do), I saw it in a different light: what if it were a contraction, as in, “Today is special!”

And that beautiful little complete sentence (see how the exclamation point comes in handy now? lol) started a chain reaction in my brain. What if I looked at today as special? How would I make it special? What, oh what, would that little shift in paradigm do to my entire attitude?

I don’t know yet. But I’ll tell ya, I’ve remembered that “today’s special” at least 32683.2 times more often since the aforementioned experience, and it makes me smile a little on the inside (and on the outside too, sometimes). So I’m giving it a go this week (…month…year…), and will try to remember that today IS special, and that even if outside circumstances would indicate otherwise, I can make it so. The power is in YOU!

I’d love to hear your experiences too! Leave a comment below! (And 10 bonus points to whoever can name the source of the exclamation in the previous paragraph.)

Now, before you judge, I should tell you that I had been working really hard the days before this childhood re-creation. I also, after doing a few other just nice-to-do, not-really-important things, I read my scriptures, packed my lunch, and went off to be a responsible adult in the real world. I caught up on my missed classes.

And I was ever so much calmer about facing my responsibilities because I had acknowledged that inner part of myself that says, “Hey! I’m here, and I need you to relax!” I didn’t have to feel guilty. Again, it. was. awesome.

Have you ever just taken a morning (or a day…or a weekend…or a week!) to yourself? Whether you have or not, do you need to? If you do, I highly encourage you to take your inner child and put her (or him, as the case may be) in “inside-out time out,” where she actually gets rewarded instead of punished. You’ll be amazed what you can accomplish afterward!

And…insert dilemma here. (Somebody cue the suspenseful music!) My aforementioned friend has a steady boyfriend, who would accompany her on that fine evening. I have nothing even remotely resembling a steady boyfriend (and I like it that way, at least for now). I needed a date.

*dun dun DUNNNNNNNN!*

Now, I have lots of male friends, which meant I had lots of options. I thought, I pondered, and I reached a decision. It just so happened that an opportunity fell right into my lap for me to ask a certain friend of mine. All I had to do was ask.

And oh my goodness, I was nervous! Never mind that I’d known this guy almost a year, and that he’s a good friend of mine. Never mind that we’d been out before and had a good time. Never mind that I was asking him to be my date for one evening, NOT my eternal companion. Oh, no, none of that meant I wasn’t still nervous. So, mustering up every ounce of courage I had in me, I told him about the evening, and (EXTREMELY AWKWARDLY) asked him if he’d like to come.

And he accepted.

And I felt like a million bucks. A very awkward million bucks who could have executed the aforementioned conversation much more suavely, but a million bucks nonetheless.

So why am I telling you all this? Well, partly to brag about the fact that I actually asked a boy on a date and was successful. But mostly to tell you how I had a paradigm shift. See, I’d always assumed that asking people on dates was easy. (And I would gladly tell you all about it, particularly when I wasn’t being asked on dates very frequently.) And then I finally did it, and saw how nerve-wracking it can actually be. I have a whole new (well, rather, more) respect for the male gender now. And it’s wonderful, and so empowering.

Oh yeah, and the date was fun too

Disclaimer: should any boy who potentially wants to date me be reading this blog, please know that the whole me-asking-on-dates thing is the exception, not the rule. Yes, I know exactly how hard it is to ask an attractive, smart, and fun (not to mention exceedingly humble) person on a date. Do it anyway

See, my mom has always had this “rule,” which isn’t really a rule, but more of a practice. Whenever I get into mopey, everybody-have-a-pity-party-for-Marta mode, Mom always says, “You have 24 hours to feel sorry for yourself, and then you have to stop.” In the beginning, I thought that was kinda harsh, but as I utilized said system repeatedly (what, so I was a moopy teenager…and am now a slightly less moopy young adult who deals with her emotions in a slightly more mature way…the world’s not going to stop turning, I promise), I’ve come to spend those 24 hours doing one of two things: 1) I revel in my beautiful misery for as long as possible, or 2) I get over it, knowing that if I can be over it 24 hours from now, I can be over it now and save myself the frown lines. And I firmly believe that there’s nothing wrong with either system. Now, hold your horses while I clarify one thing: I am NOT trying to make myself out as some type of poster child for emotional maturity–I’m far from that, and I know it. I’m just trying to illustrate a system I use and a lesson I’ve learned. Just so we’re all on the same page. Now, back to our regularly scheduled programming…

I personally think this 24-hour system is genius.  It’s dedicated time for me to deal with my emotions by acknowledging them and allowing them to be there–no suppression, no self-judgment.  It’s a day where I say to myself, “It’s ok to be human and to feel this way.”  Like I said, not pulling the I’m-so-good-at-dealing-with-my-emotions card, but I think I can honestly say that I express those emotions in a healthy way during that 24 hour period.

And when it’s over, I stop.  Actually, I don’t usually even make it to 24 hours, because all my feelings needed to do was to say, “Hey Marta!  We got hurt, and you need to pay attention to us so we can get better,” and so I do, and so they do.  Disclaimer #45739.2:  yes, of COURSE some things take more that the aforementioned 24 hours to “get over.”  But…setting a deadline for myself–no matter whether I intend to stick to it or not–reminds me that it’s not healthy to wallow in self-pity/misery/anger/[negative emotion of your choice] for extended periods of time, and that I do need to snap out of it eventually.  I may have to do several 24-hour periods, but eventually, the pain goes away (if I’ve done my job).  I actually look forward to the end, when I know I’ll feel better.

So I encourage you to join me.  Next time you’re feeling down/upset/ugly/fat/angry/___________, give yourself 24 hours to feel sorry for yourself.  Look at the clock.  (I am serious.)  And resolve to feel better by then…or at least starting then   Leave a note in the comments with how it felt!  Ciao!