The kind of friend I want

March 7, 2013 by Cassie

cassandteeny

The kind of friend I want is…

Someone with a passion for something—anything.

Someone who understands and respects my introverted tendencies, even if they’re not an introvert themselves.

Someone I can learn something from.

Someone who considers herself a feminist.

Someone who also claims to hate people. But really actually likes people—but only the nice ones.

Someone who doesn’t make me feel guilty or superficial for wearing makeup.

Someone who loves to read, is creative, or has an appreciation for beautiful things.

Someone who, after a couple drinks, is totally down for a karaoke duet.

Someone who likes puppies. How can you not like puppies?

Someone who doesn’t thrive on constant attention or drama—and actually listens to you when you speak.

Someone who pushes me out of my comfort zone—in a good way.

Someone who doesn’t base her self-worth on her relationship status or the things she has.

Someone who has laughed at the word “poop” more than any grown woman should.

Someone whose favorite thing to do is laugh.

Someone who will accept me despite my gastrointestinal shortcomings following a pot of chili. I mean, I just don’t see that improving anytime soon.

Someone who knows she’s not perfect but loves herself anyway.

Here’s a fun exercise: Come up with a list like this for yourself. Be specific, but not so specific that you might alienate an otherwise perfectly meant-for-you person. (Not everyone you hang with has to loooove The Walking Dead. And if they do, I’m automatically off your list ’cause I’ve never even seen that show.) Then read your list. Does it more or less describe you? Or does it only describe someone you aspire to be like? It wasn’t my original intention, but I’m happy to say my list sounds a lot like me. I’d say I’m a keeper.

What do you look for in a friend? Could we be friend soulmates?

Filed Under: Feminism, Thoughts on Life Tagged With: friends, introverts, relationships, soulmates

On momentum

January 28, 2013 by Cassie

momentum

If you get even the slightest bit of forward momentum, run with it. Don’t question it. Don’t hesitate.

Don’t let yourself go to that place in your mind where all of the worst-case scenarios lie. The worst-case scenario is that you leave your momentum hanging there, left unused. It’ll go stale quickly once it’s been opened, whether you use it or not. Yep—even when you run with it, you’ll still run out of it. But if you used what momentum you had, it wasn’t a waste. You’ll still hit a wall, but at least there will be something to show for it. When you’re at that wall, out of momentum, don’t walk away—tempting as it is. This will be the true test of your will. Of your desire. Now that the adrenaline has been tapped out, all that’s left is you. That can be a freaking scary thing to face. You? Alone with your thoughts? Terrifying. Or exhilarating. A little bit of both. That’s when you’ll produce either your greatest masterpiece or a pile of shit. You might prefer one over the other, but both are a success. Because even a pile of shit is something. It can always be cleaned up later. Don’t let others’ masterpieces distract or intimidate you. Chances are, they left a lot of piles of shit behind them, too. (Tired of the pile of shit analogy? Okay, sorry—moving on.) Those people have only chosen to show you the best of themselves, and you can’t blame them for that. It might be what you’re striving for, too, but don’t be afraid to get your very worst creation out first. That is what you call courage. Creation. Creation is courage. Vice versa. You’re not doing this for the comments, the “likes,” the praise. Don’t think about your audience before you’ve even started. You’ll just be paranoid that they’ll see right through you, and you’ll be right. This is yours. This momentum is yours. The stagnancy that follows is also yours. Use both to your advantage. Run with it. Slow down when you’re short of breath, but keep running. Run through, around, or over that wall. Something is there, waiting for you, on the other side.

And the only person it belongs to is you.

 

On an entirely unrelated note, I’m now a monthly contributor over at Pooping Rainbows. Intriguing, right? Check out my first blog post on kicking the bucket list.

Why don't you stick around?

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Filed Under: Thoughts on Life Tagged With: creativity, letters to myself, momentum, motivation

The 5 Year Diary

January 3, 2013 by Cassie

five year diary

Five years used to seem like forever.

I remember thinking as a kid that I’d never come to reach milestone ages fast enough. Though I wasn’t necessarily in a rush to grow up (after all, my Barbie car was the shit), driving a real car at 16 seemed like eons away. Growing up to be a 23-year-old (who, as it turns out, obsessively researches which cars have the best fuel economy)? Unfathomable.

Now, it’s just the opposite. I look back five years and am amazed at what a blink it all was. Of course, as quickly as time has gone by, things are vastly different now than they were then. Not only have I begun a career and published my work, but I also drink good beer now. Life-changing. If 2007 through 2012 could feel so short, the next five years—sure to be full of even more drastic changes—will fly by even faster.

This is what I was thinking when I happened upon the 5 Year Diary in a museum gift shop. Intrigued by the simple idea and design, I treated myself to a little Christmas present. With the swipe of a debit card, I had suddenly made a long-term commitment to a journal.

five year diary

The 5 Year Diary is just what it sounds like—a journal for chronicling the span of five years. You can begin writing on any day of the year, and the coolest part about it is there’s just one page per date, with a few lines apiece for each year. (Each entry is slightly longer than a tweet.) That means once you’ve written in the diary for an entire year, you’re back to the same page you started on, and you can see what you wrote the year prior. And so on for the next four.

For anyone who’s obsessed with journals like I am, this is right up your alley. I have another journal I carry around all the time for ideas and notes (and dozens more before it), but this one forces me to sum up my day or thoughts in a few succinct words. I also kind of like that I began in the back of the book—December 22nd. I didn’t intentionally start it the day after the winter solstice, but I’m just naturally symbolic like that.

The key for me with this journal—which I’ll be lugging around for the next five years—is to remain honest. To be vulnerable and willing to admit when things are mundane or unsatisfactory. I also plan to ask my future self questions. And I’d like to think that the entries depicting my goals and dreams will serve as foreshadowing for the good things to come. I already look forward to when I reach the point that I see my entries from years past. Hopefully, I’ll be able to laugh at my own naïveté, assure my past self that some worry will work itself out, or gawk at how scarily accurate my predictions came to be.

Here are hints at just a few of my predictions for the next five years: California. Grad school. New friends. Anniversaries. Epic journeys. Lots of writing. Thousands of photos. Plenty of doubts. And a hell of a lot of fun.

I think I just had a vision: It’s 4 years and 356 days from now. I’ve got a sudden chill as I close the book on my final entry. It’s the good kind of chill.

Why don't you stick around?

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Filed Under: Thoughts on Life Tagged With: 5 year diary, change, photography, writing

Introverts unite

December 5, 2012 by Cassie

“Many people believe that introversion is about being antisocial, and that’s really a misperception. Because actually it’s just that introverts are differently social. So they would prefer to have a glass of wine with a close friend as opposed to going to a loud party full of strangers.”
– Susan Cain, author of Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking

I think my introversion is evident on this blog, as it’s something I talk about pretty openly. The amazing Hanna over at Excelsior Lady—an introvert herself—picked up on that. And then she had a rather brilliant idea, which I’m psyched she decided to share with me. Fellow introverts, you, too, should be psyched. Because now Hanna and I share this idea (which we hope will spread in the blogosphere full of introverts) with YOU.

Introverts unite!

(All the pretty things! Read on to learn about the message behind these badges and how to score these awesome designs for your own blog.)

Personal Space is Good for You

Introversion is a character trait of someone who is thoughtful. Someone who is quiet. Someone who is introspective. Not necessarily shy—although they may be—introverts crave solitude and time to reflect. Unlike our extroverted counterparts who are so celebrated in today’s culture, introverts don’t need to be constantly occupied and entertained. We have existed and thrived this way pretty much since the dawn of humanity. But for some reason, we are so often perceived as people who need to be worked on, brought out of our shells, because of this trait that is inherent to who we are as people.

“Writing is something you do alone. It’s a profession for introverts who want to tell you a story but don’t want to make eye contact while doing it.” – John Green

It’s no coincidence that many bloggers are introverts. We take the time each week to sit down and express what we’re thinking or evaluate where we’re headed in life. Some people—people who don’t get it—have this stereotypical image of bloggers in their heads: a hipster with nerd glasses in a chain coffee shop waxing poetic and ignoring the world around them. This person they’ve drawn up in their heads is antisocial and strange, and not at all a true depiction of us bloggers who are so much deeper than that. (Though there’s nothing wrong with nerd glasses. If you rock ’em, you go on with your bad self.)

We all know that stereotype is a lie. Just look around at all the blogs we read. The communities we’ve built. The connections we’ve established. The friendships we’ve made. And all of this through our writing! We are, in fact, very social people. What Hanna and I mean to say is: we introverts are—gasp!—complex individuals who are capable of being introverted and social, intelligent, self-starting, and opinionated.

So here’s where you come in. If you’re an introvert, and you feel as though you’ve been misperceived as shy/slow/weird/irrelevant because of who you are, we invite you to put one of these badass badges (Style 1, Style 2 – right click and “save as”) designed by Hanna on your blog and write a blog post based on the following prompt:

Just because I’m an introvert doesn’t mean…

From there, the rest is up to you. We hope you will share this with your bloggy friends and, in the process, reveal your inner awesomeness that might not be immediately evident. (Because shoving said awesomeness in other people’s faces isn’t your style.)

“Who looks outside, dreams; who looks inside, awakes.”
– Carl Jung

As for me? Just because I’m an introvert doesn’t mean…

…I’m not full of ideas. I am. It just takes time and thought for me to properly express them, which is what my blog is for.

…I don’t know how to have a good time. Boy, do I know how to have a good time. My version of a good time is music on the stereo, homemade pizza in John’s kitchen, and wine aplenty. Add some Key & Peele on Comedy Central to the mix, and I’m golden.

…my success is limited. Back before reality TV, charisma wasn’t the end-all be-all in terms of indicators of success. There are a lot of famous, accomplished introverts in our history, and they didn’t have to entertain others with their charm to achieve their status. I’m not saying I can’t fake it, but small talk with strangers ain’t my thang. When I’m a big success, it’ll be due to the words I put on paper (or screen), rather than connections made at some cool party.

We hope you’ll join in and spread the love with this idea, and please send us a link if you do. Whoever sends me a link to their post will be added to a list right here. Introverts unite!

 

Participating bloggers:
Steve Earley
My Perfectly Imperfect Life
My Quarter-Life Crisis
Delightfully Awkward Brit
A Sowing Season
Snow, Glass, Apple
Whim of Whimsicality
Blackberry Lips
The Introvert Files
Hella Quirky
All Things Lena
Lyss.me
A Little Serendipity
There’s Only One Box
Imani’s Lounge
No Map Provided
Becoming Bailey
Rockwitch.net
This Muse is Taken
Awash With Wonder
Kristology
My Name is April
It’s a Geek Life
Mariella Hunt
The Introvert Ideal
Tangerine Meg
6birds
Whimsyical
Her Silent Musings
A Free Spirit From Jersey

Filed Under: Thoughts on Life Tagged With: introverts, introverts unite, quiet, susan cain

A woman to aspire to

November 27, 2012 by Cassie

a woman to aspire to

Like most girls growing up, I always imagined the kind of woman I’d eventually become.

I was an insecure kid with a lot of quirks and beauty I hadn’t yet dared to see in myself. I caught glimpses of it sometimes, but would end up too distracted by my imperfections and everything I hadn’t “figured out” yet. In my mind, the twenty-something version of me would be a woman to aspire to—she’d have it all figured out, and she’d be beautiful.

I’m going to go ahead and say something that might sound conceited: I am beautiful. How controversial of me to say so. How dare I love myself? But I do. Not always. Right now, for example, I look downright teenage in my snowflake pajamas without make-up on, and I constantly obsess over my perpetually dry skin that sometimes flakes or scars. But damnit, I am beautiful, inside and out. (Don’t dare to think otherwise of yourself, either. Somewhere in a parallel universe, my younger self is hearing this, and it’s working wonders.)

Anyway, so back to this picture my sweet, deluded child self had conjured up of the present me. If today I’m saying I’m beautiful (we’ll see how I feel tomorrow), then at least what I had in mind then is half-true. The other half? Not so much. I think I’ve made all the right moves so far (with several mistakes behind and certainly ahead of me), but that doesn’t mean I’ve got adolescent-turned-adult skin problems, let alone life, figured out.

Most twenty-somethings—myself included—obsess over where they’ll be living, or what career path they’ll end up on, or if they’ll get married, and WHO they’ll marry, and oh-my-God-do-I-even-LIKE-kids-let-alone-ever-want-to-have-any? And that’s about as far into the future as most of us bloggers (especially those on Thought Catalog) who deign to narrate such thoughts ever really go with it. For some reason, it seems as though we’re still slightly illuded that our future selves will FINALLY have it all figured out.

Rarely do we take the time to consider the kind of people we’ll be at 50. Or 60. Or 97. Why is that? Do we all just assume we’ll be wise, or do we think “old” (which is a relative term, anyway) people don’t have similar worries, or don’t matter quite as much because they’ve already contributed work and offspring to society? Of course they matter—those are our parents and grandparents we’re talking about. Is it just that old age seems too far into the distant future to even comprehend?

This would make sense, considering how different the world we live in now is compared with the world of our young grandparents. If society and technology and the population can take off so astronomically just in the past few decades, imagine how different it could be when our friends are dying.

So here’s a challenge to my fellow young (again, relative term!) people: envision yourself in the future. Not the ten-years-from-now future. The seemingly distant future. The future that anyone over 50 will likely tell you isn’t as distant as it may seem. Now that we’re all slightly wiser than our preadolescent selves, let’s try to come up with something a little more specific and a lot more realistic than “generally beautiful and all-knowing.”

Gray-haired Cassie? She still wears her hair long. She is confident, and long ago stopped worrying about what people think of her. She is kind, funny, occasionally frazzled, yes, but never more than five minutes late. Physically, spiritually, and otherwise, she remains in touch with her former young self. In fact, she works out. Daily. Still has muscles and a nice figure, even if it’s changed slightly over time. A few laugh lines are permanently etched into her face from a lifetime of belly laughs, but her skin makes her appear younger than she is because she became diligent about sunscreen in her twenties.

Gray-haired Cassie is also incredibly smart. With an impressive vocabulary (and a persisting tendency to say “y’all” a lot), she has accomplished her dream of publishing a novel a few times over. She’s still super-close with her younger sisters, and doesn’t envy them too much for being generally cuter and more youthful. She is able to look back at her life and pinpoint exactly where she made mistakes and is grateful that they led her to where she is now. She’s learned to live with only the most beautiful things she owns, even if she only has a few of them. She is a woman of self-love and satisfaction. And despite many doubts, missteps, and setbacks, her optimism—however peppered with sarcasm—has prevailed. Also? She still doesn’t have it all figured out. And accepts that.

Knowing that this is what I want and envision for myself makes clear a few things, and it raises some questions: One, what is it I should start doing now to become that woman? If I want to get to that point of self-actualization sooner, I better start acting like the woman I describe.

Two, what is it I should stop doing now to become that woman? No self-loving goddess would tell herself, No, don’t bother applying to that amazing school. The chances of you getting in are slim, and that’s a hefty application fee.

And three, what do I already share with the woman I describe? I’m smart, kind of funny sometimes, I take care of my body, and I’ve laughed a lot. 

And that? That counts for something.

 

Filed Under: Feminism, Thoughts on Life Tagged With: a woman to aspire to, film photography, generation Y, letter to my childhood self, love letter, self-confidence, twenty-something
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