COURAGE, BRAVEHEART

In life, we all have dreams and wishes, hopes and desires. Dreams of changing the world. Of going places. Of finding that perfect job that will give us not only what we need, but will also fill our souls. We wish to travel to exotic places. To drink life in to its fullest measure. To succeed at the things we work hard at. We hope to find deep lasting friendships. Someone to share our life with. Maybe even have a family. And we desire significance. To do better than our parents before us. Maybe to make them proud. To matter to another.

Who doesn’t want all of those things? A life without them sounds pretty miserable to me. Because when you dream and wish and hope and desire, it takes you to extraordinary places where you can accomplish extraordinary things.

Or does it?

We also have expectations. Expectations of what life is going to look like. How things are going to turn out. Where you will go on your journey and what will happen to you along the way. Who will join you on that journey. Expectations have also taken people to extraordinary places, but extraordinarily terrible places, in my experience. Very little good comes from having expectations. Especially when they have reached heights so great, that if you fall you may never get back up again.

Growing up, I was encouraged to DREAM BIG, to WORK HARD, to REACH FOR THE STARS. I was told that IF I PUT MY MIND TO IT I COULD ACCOMPLISH ANYTHING. That IF I DIDN’T BELIEVE IN MYSELF, NO ONE ELSE WOULD. That I COULD BE ANYTHING I WANTED TO BE. That PREPARATION MEETS OPPORTUNITY and that I should ALWAYS HOPE FOR THE BEST and EXPECT GREAT THINGS.

Maybe you heard these things growing up too. Maybe you had incredibly supportive parents like I did. Maybe they knew you were talented, and that things were going to happen for you when you got your big break. It wasn’t a question of if you’d get it, only a matter of when.

You get where I’m going?

These kinds of encouraging statements are meant to do just that. Encourage. Back then, they did. I think they gave me insane confidence. They allowed me to believe that anything was possible. They instilled in me a put-my-nose-to-the-grindstone determination and work ethic, that I still have to this day. They gave me the desire to prove everyone wrong. It worked for my dad, surely it would work for me.

But looking back on these statements now, the ones that had been so deeply ingrained in me, I realize that they have oftentimes led to deep disappointment. I found most of those things actually weren’t true. I did everything I was told to do and yet I couldn’t make them true, no matter how hard I tried.

I dreamed big, I worked hard, I reached for the stars. And nothing happened.

All of that dreaming and working and reaching, amounted to nothing. It left me empty and exhausted with nothing to show for it. I put my mind to a task, ready and willing, yet I wasn’t able to accomplish it. I believed in myself, more than anyone. I had neither doubt nor fear holding me back. Some might have even called me delusional, but I truly believed I could do anything I put my mind to. It was just a matter of time before everything fell into place.

But year after year passed by and things didn’t fall into place.

Time showed that no matter how long or hard I believed in myself, that didn’t determine how others saw me or felt about me. They didn’t necessarily see what I was talking about, or more specifically, what I was capable of. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t convince them, based on my own determination and self-belief, to see what I saw.

Even though I was told I could be anything I wanted to be, to my disappointment, I found that was also not true. Being an actor, my fate lay in the hands of others. I didn’t get to decide. They did. Was I allowed to be the actor that I knew was deep inside of me? Would others see me that way? Could I convince them? Would they give me the part or a chance to prove myself? There were so many deciding factors that are absolutely out of my control. And worst of all, if I didn’t have the “proof” there on my resume, did that mean I wasn’t an actor after all? No matter I’d been doing it for twenty-one years; I had little to show for it. Therefore I was just a faker. Or a wanna-be. A fraud. The thing I desperately wanted, I couldn’t do unless someone else allowed me to.

Ask anyone who knows me and they’ll tell you I value preparedness. I over pack for trips (to my mom’s frustration) just in case I need something we didn’t think of. And trust me, I think of every scenario and I make sure to pack for it (shout out to the Type A’s!). I overwork and research the hell out of anything that I’m passionate about or that interests me. Whether that’s acting (I’ve heard, “No one does more work that you”), or writing (“I’m so impressed by your detailed research”), or directing (“Man, you’ve thought of everything! I would’ve fallen apart if you weren’t here”). I am overly prepared in life, a meticulously OCD nerd, who thrives on knowing every detail about everything in order to feel the most confident and, strangely enough, the most free to do my best work. I go above and beyond, it doesn’t matter if it’s cooking a meal, hosting a party, shooting a movie, or cleaning up dirty dishes while waiting tables. I hold myself to the highest standard possible. In anything and everything. I expect nothing less than my very best.

I have always hoped for the best (nothing else would suffice) and I always expected great things would happen. For myself. For others. I was always looking towards a positive outcome, the sunny side of things, I was a glass-half-full kinda girl. But at the end of the day, all that hoping and expecting led me to excruciating disappointment, great loss, and the feeling of failure.

So fast forward to me crying on the garage floor of my overpriced apartment in West Los Angeles and me asking, “What does this mean? Where does this leave me?”

And the answer? Angry.

And I don’t just mean, “I’m a little frustrated” or “I’m just flat-out mad.” I mean raging anger. I wanted vengeance on someone or something. I felt wronged. Tricked. Wounded. Lied to. Betrayed.

But whose fault was it? Who was to blame?

There were a few options. My parents, for doing what parents are supposed to do; encourage their children? Not likely. The whole world and all the people in it for having sh*t on me in some unfair way? Ehnt. Wrong answer. Bad luck? Nope. Fate? I don’t think so. God, for not allowing things to go the way He had promised me they would go? (For the record, God didn’t promise me anything except His love, His son, and His will for my life, but more on that later.) No. Not that either (although I did blame it on Him for a while). There was only one other option.

Me.

Was it me? Did I do something wrong? Am I the one to blame? No. No way! Not possible. I didn’t do anything wrong. I did everything right. Why would I be the one to blame? And then this sick feeling came over me…

It’s my fault.

And let me tell you, when you have vengeful rage to unleash on someone and you realize you’re the one at fault. Man, does it really knock the wind out of your sails. I was so angry at myself. Angry for being stupid. Angry for being so naive. Angry for allowing  myself to be tricked by others (this is a deep wound that still follows me around in life). Angry that I had let my guard down. That I trusted others blindly. That I had believed in fairy tales. I shouldn’t have believed all those things I was told. Maybe then I wouldn’t have felt such aching disappointment deep down when I realized they weren’t true.

And then I realized, those things weren’t what I was angry at. I was angry because there really was no one to blame but myself. I had set all of these unfair and unrealistic expectations on just about every person and every area of my life and when those people disappointed me, or those things didn’t end up like I had imagined, I was devastated and looked for who I could point the blame to. The problem was, if I hadn’t had those kinds of expectations in the first place, the disappointments wouldn’t have hit me so hard.

Expectations, I’ve learned, are a monster to wrestle with. On one hand, if you have none, you set the bar pretty low in life. You are expectant, watching and waiting for disappointment around every corner, not looking for much out of life so you won’t be too crushed by it. On the other hand, if you set the bar too high and your expectations are so great, it’s inevitable that they will be dashed to the ground, and you will be left where I was. Shattered and unmendable, cursing yourself for having gotten your hopes up. Always thinking, “Next time I’ll expect a little less.” And then a little less…and so on and so on, until you expect almost nothing. Neither of those seem like good options. Is there an in-between option I’m not seeing?

When I was engaged, I had someone tell me about what my expectations should be for marriage. They said, “Don’t have any. Expectations will just leave you disappointed. You can hope, and wish, and dream that things will happen. So when they do, you are pleasantly surprised. But if they don’t happen, you can’t be disappointed, because you didn’t expect anything in the first place.”

Yikes! I thought, “Is that depressing or what? Depressing or just really feels like negative Nancy to me.” I tried to remind myself of this piece of wisdom throughout my marriage, but I’m pretty sure that flew in one ear and out the other rather quickly. I wish I had listened to it a little more. Like, maybe just a smidge more. Not just in regards to marriage, but life in general. I think the in-between is looking to the Lord and His words to determine what your expectations should look like. To know what is promised to us and what is not. When you do that, you will not be disappointed because you have a realistic view of what is deserved.

Some months later, after working through some of my anger (and believe me, I’m still a work in progress) and taking a good long look at all of this hurt and woundedness, and betrayal and bitterness, I had to make a choice. Here I was. Still angry and bitter, with a broken heart. And not just hairline fractures. Gaping wounds exposed and throbbing from the pain. I could choose to stay bitter, hate the world and become the victim of being wronged by life. But that wasn’t doing me much good, or anyone else around me, for that matter. I had become the negative Nancy. Or I could change my perspective and turn my disappointments into dreams.

Not the old dreams. But new dreams. With a fresh perspective and new insight.

Instead of DREAMING BIG or REACHING FOR THE STARS on my own, I had to learn to ask the Lord to direct my dreams where He wants them to be and then pray for the strength to actionably work towards those dreams, while allowing Him to do His part in making them come to fruition. If I do that, I’ll rarely (maybe not never) be disappointed. The same is true, when I WORK HARD and nothing seems to come from it. I remind myself who I am working for, and the disappointment subsides. It was never about winning the prize anyway.

I know that IF I PUT MY MIND TO IT, I CAN ACCOMPLISH ANYTHING, if I am relying on the Lord and not myself. Of course I will wind up disappointed when I am trying to do it all myself. I also know that even IF I DIDN’T BELIEVE IN MYSELF, God would believe in me. I never have to win someone to my side. He’s already there. What a relief.

I don’t have to face the disappointment of I CAN BE ANYTHING I WANT TO BE not happening – because what I really want to be is in relationship with the Lord. To grow in His wisdom, in trust, in knowing His voice in my life, and loving others the way He would want me to.

Even when PREPARATION doesn’t MEET OPPORTUNITY, it is a good lesson that being prepared is an admirable quality. You will never go wrong being a prepared person. And on the off-chance that opportunity is just around the corner, you’ll be glad you were so Type A. That’s my glass-half-full girl coming back.

And I should ALWAYS HOPE FOR THE BEST and ALWAYS EXPECT GREAT THINGS because we’ve already been promised the best and the Lord has great things in store for those who love Him. Whether on this side of life or the next.

I know that everything I went through is a part of my story. My journey into becoming the fullest, best, most gracious, wisest, most compassionate, thoughtful version of myself that God created me to be. And just like in a screenplay or a movie, the hero can only become who they were meant to be by choosing and accepting to go on the journey. One where they are forever changed, and forever the wiser.

So this is my journey. I have chosen and accepted to go on it. I am the hero of my own story, metaphorically speaking. And I have been forever changed by my life experiences. The good, the bad, and the ugly all rolled into one. I still have expectations, but they are less rigid. I try to look at the positive side of things instead of the negative. I practice gratitude and give thanks on the regular. And when I see my old ways start creeping back in, I have to remind myself that it’s okay. I talk about how I feel. I talk with the Lord. I remind myself that I am not cursed. That I am deeply loved by God and that His intentions for me are always good.

So here I stand, with a new perspective, my hands open wide, with so much to give and fully ready to receive whatever comes my way. But the most important thing is…

I’m still standing.