I got to thinking about judging those around us. We all do it. We all will keep doing it. But if we can remember that we don’t really know what’s going on unless we “walk in that person’s shoes,” we can tweak those judgemental attitudes just a bit. We won’t be perfect–but we can be slightly more accepting.

Let me explain something that happened recently. I met a new girl who will be around me often. (There will be no specifics.) And she doesn’t smile a lot. She seems aloof and not happy; she is shy and does not talk much. In fact, she seems scared most of the time! I couldn’t figure her out… until I realized something in myself. Basically, she is me. At least, until you get to know me.

Of course, like the human being I am, I took this as her being upset or unhappy or angry. But after getting to know her a bit more, I realized that wasn’t the case. She’s just shy and doesn’t open up right away…. just like me! I judged way too soon… as I’m sure others do with me, with my chronic resting bitch face. Honestly, I feel horrible for judging someone like that; I get so offended when people around me seem off-put by my naturally stoic and reserved manner. (We don’t all have to smile 24/7, people!) So, after some identification of her personality and matching it to mine, I decided to push her out of her comfort zone: I would talk to her. And it was a success! I don’t see us being best friends, but at least the judgment has passed. And who knows? Maybe she was judging me this whole time, too. Wouldn’t that just be my karma? But it’s deserved.

What’s really interesting to me, though, is that I didn’t identify myself in her right off the bat. I just decided that she wasn’t friendly. Sure, I forced myself to get to know her a bit better, but I also judged her. Why would I do this to someone just like me? Does that mean I don’t like myself as much as I think? I think these are interesting questions. Can we not identify those qualities in others that belong also to us? What do you think?

So I’ll try to judge less. And you can, too. It’s all about reading people and going from there.

I got to thinking about not being social. I’m not that social. Like I said in my previous post, I’m an introvert. I flee from crowds and savor time alone. It’s me time–and it matters. Sometimes I just don’t want to go out; sometimes I just feel like crowds will kill my soul. (Okay, that might be dramatic, but you know what I’m getting at.) And the worst part of being like this is that people just don’t seem to understand. You cannot judge my life choices if you don’t understand them. You can not want to live life like me, but you cannot judge me. This is my life. And I don’t have any regrets thus far. I think not being too social is working for me.

If you’re like me, it’s okay. Don’t let anyone tell you that you have to be social and have dozens of friends to enjoy life. Do what you love; do what makes you happy. That’s how you should live your life.

I got to thinking about a change in personality. I think that happened to me. No, I’m not talking about bipolar disorder or multiple personalities. I am talking about one’s personality changing as they grow older. Let me explain.

As a kid, I was outgoing and gregarious, always ready to meet new friends. In fact, I met all the kids for my brother and me. I liked to perform Spice Girls songs and never missed a school talent show. I would definitely say I was an extrovert. There was no stage I didn’t love and I thrived being with others.

This changed after puberty. In fact, I attribute it to puberty. I will not be getting into that on here, as you’ll understand after reading this blog post. But something inside me changed. I started to withdraw from being the center of attention and finding friends became harder than ever. I enjoyed spending time alone (writing, reading, doing other introverted things) to time with friends and just people in general. Writing helped me express all that angst I was too afraid to say after my personality turned introverted. Hence, I am still a writer. And you know what? I am shy. I am okay with that, too.

What happened? Everything, really. But I’ve learned that we can change dramatically as we get older. And this doesn’t have to be a negative thing. It’s okay that I don’t flock to crowds and have trouble meeting people; it’s okay that I am shy and introverted. I get my energy from myself: writing, reading, listening to music, having a glass of wine with my boyfriend and/or family. This is me. And I won’t apologize for changing. I love myself. It took me years to fully recognize that I could love a different person, but I did. And you can, too. It’s okay to be introverted and shy. Just be yourself and be kind. Any change is okay in that.

I got to thinking about happiness. Where do you get happiness? Can you build it? Business Insider seems to think so. And I agree. For those of you who know my daily reading habits, Business Insider is close to the top of the list (that list also includes my guilty but completely legitimate pleasure that is Usmagazine.com). I haven’t always been Miss Happy, so I am constantly looking for ways to improve my mood, to be happy. And something in the article I read today really resonated: listen to a sad song. I do this constantly. If I feel down or even completely demolished, I listen to my emo music. Or sometimes angry music. And it works! It really, really works! It’s almost like it gives me the hope to feel better; things could be worse. And there are other people out there with me. I am certainly not alone and have every power in my being to slowly fall out of the sadness track that I am running on. At least that’s what I get from sad songs.

What do you get? Do you agree?

Here’s the link: http://www.businessinsider.com/simple-ways-to-improve-your-mood-according-to-psychologists

I got to thinking about marriage. Is marriage everything? Is your relationship not real if you’re not married? Is it any less loving, important or special without marriage? Sure, in the eyes of the law, it doesn’t matter. But I am not talking about the law; I am talking about public perception.

Recently I noticed that marriage seems to be more important to those around me than a committed, long-term relationship. It’s not even a level playing field. But why is this? Why can having a child out of wedlock be the norm these days, but God forbid, if you don’t get married (without children), you’re suddenly a barbarian? This thinking confuses and slightly angers me. I do not love my longtime boyfriend any less just because we aren’t married. We aren’t any less committed. So, please, stop saying that we are not. And stop forgoing any inclusion of “family” for us. This is real. This matters. Please acknowledge that.

Marriage isn’t everything. Relationships and love are everything.

I got to thinking about simple decisions… rather, what I think are simple decisions, but apparently aren’t simple for all of us. I was recently eavesdropping on an incredibly loud conversation that was disturbing was supposed-to-be-peaceful lunch hour. These two women were talking about making decisions. This led one of them to say: “I haven’t decorated my house yet because I can’t decide what I like. And I’ve lived there three years!”

What?! How can you not make a decision in three years?!

Honestly, though, I cannot understand this. Maybe it’s because I’ve always been a decision-maker, a rapid decision-maker. I don’t hesitate and know what I like and what I don’t like. That’s just me. So it truly baffles me to hear that someone hasn’t decorated their house in three years. How can you not decide what you like? Is making decisions quickly and knowing what you like innate? Is this about knowing yourself? Or is this just another example of pure avoidance? I really am not quite sure.

All I know… they gave me good fodder for my blog. But also disturbed my lunch. But maybe the former makes up for the latter. 🙂

I got to thinking about writing as a career. Of course, as you know, this is my dream. I want to make a living as a full-time writer. And I know that I will. I just have to be patient and continue to work my butt off. So this leads me to a thought about advice on making writing a career.

Before I started at Loyola Marymount University, I was told by a current screenwriting major that the major is wonderful, but if I could be happy doing anything else, do that instead. She basically told me to not be a writer if I could help it. And, naturally, I could not. But I was flabbergasted by her negativity. My parents called it realism, but as a dreamer, I found the statement negative and just completely discouraging. Why can’t writers offer encouragement in the path they’re seeking, too? Why do writers put other writers down? Is it a competition thing? Is it fear? Or is it realism? Are writers just naturally negative people?

I don’t really care what other writers, or other people, have said. I could be somewhat happy doing something else, but why would I? I want and love writing more than anything. And that counts for more than semi-poverty. I plan to make writing my career with my utmost being and hard work. I will not let others get in the way. And I will show that hard work and dedication is what will make you a success to other writers. I will offer encouragement. We could all use a little bit of encouragement, right? That’s what I would’ve wanted. And that’s what I’ll give.

I got to thinking about repetition. I am the “Queen” of repetition. Or I think of myself that way, at the very least. I watch the same TV shows and movies over and over. I like seeing things twice; I’ve been up and down the beautiful California coast several times and plan on visiting the most perfect city in the world, Paris, again. So what is this about? Am I sick? Just weird? Do I not have a firm handle on things? Maybe. But I also do not like things to end. Pure and simple. I have a hard time letting things go, and this repetitive nature I have garnered over the years has enabled me to not let go. I won’t let go. I can’t let go. I refuse! I like to experience things over and over because then it feels like those chapters, or episodes or plans or whatever it may be, aren’t over. I don’t like the ending; I like the beginning and the middle. There’s something so final about an end, and I have no intention of being a part of that. However, this is not to say that I won’t experience new things. I love going new places and being immersed in something unknown. But don’t ask me to give up what I’ve already seen. I won’t. At least not the things and places I’ve deemed important.