Things I think people would be surprised to know about me

In no particular order…

- I hate tomatoes. Ketchup is fine on something (but not for dipping) and salsa is good, but no tomatoes.

- I don’t get paid from VT:L. When I say everyone is volunteer, I mean literally everyone, including me.

- I wanted 7 kids. Specifically 7. With a set of twins if possible, but 7 either way.

- When I was in 2nd or 3rd grade, I made up that I had 6 older siblings and told my friends about them often.

- I have always been incredibly shy and struggled in social situations.

- My body went through major trauma as a result of PTSD and experiences I had.

- I love Irish dancing. A lot a lot a lot.

- I think often of moving far away from all things, and then remember that I don’t want to be inconvenienced to get to a store quickly.

- I am a miserable gardener of any kind. No plants stay alive under my care and it’s one of the great regrets of my life.

- I only eat chocolate ice cream.

- I get immense social anxiety anywhere I go. I believe this was exacerbated during Covid, and now I struggle to talk or interact with anyone anytime. I get drained fast and always feel uncertain and uncomfortable.

- I own more than 1100 books in my library. :) 

- I love Jesus. I think people generally would know this, but I love him a LOT.

books

 I was having weird dreams the other night (many reasons) but the end of the dreams stuck out to me as particularly wise. It probably was copied from somewhere and just brought to my subconscious, but I thought it was genuinely beautiful and I was grateful for the reminder, waking up with a smile on my face.

Things were happening with some books in a library, the details don't matter. At the end, a James Marsden-esque character had assumed a librarian mantle of sorts and as he was aging (magically, as though it had been millenia and he was now a sage old librarian with immense wisdom), this idea was presented:

Reading is important - including rereading and revisiting beloved books - because each time we read and stand against evil in the books, we are giving ourselves strength to stand against evil in our lives. 

In the dream, I then saw a few scenes of a murderous instrument being turned aside, mercy and love being shown, compassion, strength in tribulation, etc etc all from books. There was a moment in each where the fate of the characters trembled - would they push on? would they commit the crime? would others be saved? and then because "someone kept reading", the good prevailed and light burst from the scene as compassion, mercy, love, courage was shown. 

Obviously books are books and the endings wouldn't change if you didn't read them (well, who knows with computers taking over the world haha) but as I watched these scenes from some of my favorite books play out, my "dream self" was strengthened and I got a bit emotional and woke up with a smile on my face as I thought about how I was gaining courage and compassion from reading. Reading about situations I will likely never find myself in - impossible situations, even - give me the opportunity to be sympathetic to others and to find ways to relate in "safe" ways to characters so that then I can find that courage in "real" life when the situations have real and higher stakes. 

I've been thinking about that for a few days now. Pretty amazing. Good job, dream self.

I also, this morning, thought that the same is true of rereading the Book of Mormon. Each time, you gain courage and knowledge, compassion and strength, hope and love.

I love reading. <3 :) 

theatre hot take

 I'm actually not sure that this is truly a "hot take" because that is a phrase for click-bait. But! It is something I want to address and keep note of.

So, we just got to do the most amazing production of "Finding Neverland" at VT:L. Truly, such a blessing and I am so grateful to the amazing people who were part of it and made it fantastic. It was magic and exceeded my expectations and was genuinely beautiful. I was amazed.

I had the misfortunate to notice two parents who came to support their child (who is an adult) in the show who, in previous productions, have told me thank you and complimented me on the show, and who did not on this one. The two performers in question I saw several weeks ago making side eyes at each other while another soloist was singing and appearing to be belittling the third performer. Now, I didn't confront them and demand they tell me what was said. And maybe I should have? But I let it go and decided to just watch and keep an eye on the two in question and make sure they were kind and nice during rehearsals and that the third performer didn't have any negative experiences with them specifically. And I think that worked out ok. 

But the parents bugged me.

So here is the hot take: if your kid doesn't get the role they want (or you want for them) and they decide to do the show anyway, cheer them on where they are and don't tear down other people in the production.

Listen, as a teenager, I felt very vindicated a couple of times when my mom or grandma or someone would see a show I was in and tell me that I could have done as well as the lead. It made me feel "good" because I knew they saw me and loved me and could tell I was talented even if the director "looked past me". However, as I got older and performed in college and in community theatre more often, I realized how very demeaning that is to the entire theatre process. 

It is so great to support our kids and believe in their dreams and tell them they are talented.

And every time you tell them that they "would have been better than person X", you are taking away from the whole experience - the casting process, the director's vision, the other performer's talent, AND your kid's opportunity to shine in the role they got.

It shows a lack of respect for the creative process, for fair auditions, for trusting a director, for being part of a group that requires a lot of puzzle pieces to fit in ways that you may not agree with, and takes away from the value that your kid feels in the production at the end of the day. Instead of "I did great where I was and performed to my potential and gave my all" it becomes "I wasted my time, I wasn't used in the best or right spot, the director and show were wrong" and that is an awful way to leave a show.

Have I felt dissatisfied in casting? Yes. Absolutely. Both as a performer and as an observer, I have seen cast lists and questioned the director's vision. I have been offended and hurt personally when I've felt "looked over" for a different performer when I KNOW I could do the role. 

But theatre is never about one person. It's about a group. It's bringing together 4 to 10 to 20 to 30 different people with different experience and abilities and putting them all together to make the best show possible. 

Hot take 2: that sometimes means that the "best" person doesn't get the lead.

Who decides what is "best" in theatre anyway? Is it the most extensive resume? The most previous lead roles? Who has the most experience outside of acting? Their professional/paid jobs? There is no one way to view who is best.

Everyone hates it, but honestly, a lot of the time it comes down to a feeling. A knowledge that THIS chemistry will work, but THAT won't. That these two people, while amazing friends in real life, when paired together in this show won't give what the director needs. Sometimes it's not even about the leads - it is about who is in the ensemble and who will gel well together and make strong groupings. 

There is so much to love in theatre. Please don't take away from an experience that your kid or friend or sibling had by comparing them during the show. When the show is over, tell them they were great! Tell them what you loved about them. You don't even have to talk about any other part of the show. Just let them know you love them and then hype them up for the next time. Give them a reason to celebrate giving their best where they are rather than diminishing what they did this time and making them feel they only have value when they are the "star".

Someone can have an excellent experience onstage and then have audience members ruin it with their kindly meant comparisons. Please just don't. 

Thank you. <3

imposter

i feel less than what i am

making a fool of myself as i

pretend to be wise or strong or capable

only i know that it is all a front, a facade, a

sham that haunts me late at night

the ways that i feel incapable are numerous

even though i know it's a lie 

real fear hides inside of it.

---

This is where I normally say that I'm ok. Just having a hard time. But I am having a hard time, and I'm not ok... and that is ok, too.

Summer job

​Hannalyn has been watering flowers for my grandma as a summer job. 

I caught myself breathing this morning while walking through the yard with her and it was nice. Some days we come over and have to rush- a class, a meeting, an assortment- and we just hustle through and get going. Today we didn’t have to do that and just standing felt so good.

I take a walk around the temple every Sunday after my church meetings and it’s the highlight of my week. Shoes off (weather permitting), taking my time both to center and ground as well as feel close to my Savior. 

Today wasn’t necessarily spiritual, but I do feel more gratitude this morning for the chance to stand outside. That I’m capable. That the flowers are growing well, mostly, despite heat and drought. That my daughter is learning the value of hard work even though I often have to remind her to keep going. I am grateful.

And standing outside today, planting my feet in the too-dry grass, reminded me of that.

My favorite places

​kind of in order, but not really…

My house

My parent’s house

The temple

My grandparent’s houses

East Park

Deep Creek

Children’s Gardens Thanksgiving Point

Disneyland

San Diego

10?

Macabre

​TW: death, depression

There has been a lot of loss in my life recently, both in my personal life and Im lives touching mine. It’s made for an incredibly hard year, especially as the grief is sudden and unexpected.

It’s made me gloomy and downtrodden. Even macabre. 

I have wondered several times if anyone would miss me if I was gone. Pondered how if I were to be gone from my sphere, no one would notice, or if they did, they would not be influenced. 

A friend sang at a friend’s funeral and I had the very selfish thought that I don’t have any friends to sing at my funeral.

Not that I want one, though I’d be dead so I guess I wouldn’t have a say, so it doesn’t matter, but I just want people to be able to get together if they want but then go home. Don’t make people talk about me- there’s not much to say and I think it’s silly to make people try to come up with memories to share and cry and mourn publicly. Keeping it private is fine by me. 

I feel so selfish thinking this way instead of focusing on who passed and caring for their mourning loved ones. I try to send the thoughts away. Sometimes I’m more successful than others.

I am not in danger. I am just … sad. That’s ok, right?

If I knew it was my last chance to see someone, I want to think I’d take it. If my last time performing, ever, was in “Little Women” last weekend, I wonder if anyone would have made an effort to come. I am devastated to have missed my nephew’s race- what if I never got to see him do that again? Tragedy strikes fast and hard and without reason. I don’t want to be sad that I didn’t do what I should have done or been with those I could have or said what I needed to.

That’s hard. But I want to do better. I’ll try.

“Little Women”

​I wasn’t going to do strike thoughts because we didn’t have a strike, but here I am, unable to sleep, knowing I won’t until words get out. 

Words are hard for me. I always say the wrong thing at the wrong time, say too much, or too little, and then have to sit in the consequences. 

Yet somehow I am always so long-winded. And, occasionally, someone has told me what I’ve said or written has been impactful for them. I am always surprised by that, but I know God works through our imperfections.

Attention is hard for me. Surprising for someone who loves theatre and owns a business, right? Being the center of attention... Anxiety skyrockets, feelings get close to the surface, I can’t focus on what I’m “supposed” to do. Give me a script and that helps. But on my own, I get so lost.

It’s been a hard year for me. At one of my lowest points, I felt prompted to see if we could do a script reading of “Little Women”. Kind of a last hurrah, for fun thing. I clung to this so tightly- so many dreams and hopes have felt snatched away lately, that the possibility of just reading the script again became something I desperately wanted.

And then it grew and evolved and became… everything. 

My heart this week has been so full and so broken all at once. Knowing how quickly time was slipping away, feeling myself putting fences back up to protect my heart as we neared the end of a magical journey, wishing I was better at wearing many hats, better at saying what I felt, better at remembering to bring the thank you cards…

Instead, now I sit, worrying about all I didn’t say, knowing that “thank you” will never be enough, praying that someone felt a sliver of what I did, refusing to put away the rest of the show because that means it is done, and feeling so overwhelmed at how this show and the people in it have once again changed my life and my heart. 

“Little Women” is best in a musical, I believe. And somehow, I’ve been lucky enough to have the best of the best surrounding me as I’ve lived it. (Twice! No one gets dreams like that.) Taking chances, finding forever, standing together, living life fully, knowing that some things are meant to be and that the fire inside is family and love- so many incredible and beautiful lessons.

What will I do now that I am here alone? I’ll believe that this mattered, keep the memories close, try to carry on full of hope.

And I’ll be thankful every day for being part of it. ❤️

…

I wish more people could have seen it. I wish the people involved could know how genuinely and completely I value and love them. I wish that I didn’t fear I am saying goodbye to so much more than just “Little Women” with the ending of this show. This feels like the end of an era for me and I am both so completely grateful for the opportunity and so shattered at what I feel I am losing, while also being grateful for the chance to have what I had.

Whatever comes next, this show will live inside me forever. That’s a blessing.

Primary Program

Hannalyn’s last primary program was last year which meant that today, Daniel and I were involved but not her. Instead, H got to go to her cousin’s program and loved it. This was Daniel’s first one (leading the music) and he did great. I thought it was a really good program all around. It was so weird to not have Hannalyn there, but I was also glad she got to be with family and not sitting alone or trying to find a spot for her by me.

Kids growing up - time generally - is such a weird thing. Moments I wish I could grab on to and cherish slip away. I am grateful for primary and how it teaches and prioritizes children. I love being in that room and doing music. It’s my favorite calling and spot to be. I only dread moving if I don’t get to be back in primary in a new town. ;) It’s really the best.

A month gone

October has been hard. I am so glad that it’s almost over, and yet I am dismayed at how quickly time continues to move.

After a therapy appointment at which I expressed how good I was doing at the beginning of the month, things began to spiral down into a dark depression. Not the worst I’ve ever been in, but bad enough, and hard to shake. The little things that I usually can brush off have been sticky and painful. This frustration with myself and inability to focus on good things has remained all month in spite of blessings I’ve seen and been able to acknowledge.

Conference was - and continues to be - a ray of light.

My Hannalyn is always my greatest comfort, even on days we get full-blown teenager attitude.

Walking around and being in the temple brings so much relief, I’ve been in tears the last times I’ve gone.

At my most recent therapy appointment as I expressed my disappointment that “the other shoe dropped” so shortly after feeling good, I was able to get validation about how I was feeling and the anger I felt.

I was also reminded that grief is not linear, and it’s ok to be mourning and to be going through grief stages I thought I’d passed.

Meanwhile I continue going through the motions and trying to not let anyone get hurt by my emotions. Feeling lonely and uncertain in what is coming and what I am supposed to be doing. I haven’t felt uncertain about my future in…years. Feeing this way as a 35 year old woman is something I never could have imagined.

I feel confident that God is with me, and that’s how I’m getting through the days.

Maybe once Halloween is past and we can focus on family, I will be able to find some peace.

President Nelson

I have nothing eloquent to say about the passing of President Russell M Nelson. The words I want to say have been and will be said by others and in much better ways. I didn’t know him personally, I admired and respected him as many did, and I mourn the loss of his leadership which came from such an obvious place of love.

Though I feel inadequate in expressing any sort of feeling about someone I perceived to be a great man, I wanted to put down my thoughts and add my voice to those that praise God and goodness.

I have loved having President Nelson as prophet of our church. His words were descriptive, his passion contagious, and his face so kind. I felt his love and the love of our Savior in each message that He shared. I admired his strength of personality and body and mind. I was grateful for his consideration in how he chose to deliver messages and his unshakeable testimony of and faith in Jesus Christ. I never doubted that he knew my Savior and I was so amazed by him for that. I pray that I can live with that sort of unapologetic faith.

President Nelson will be very missed. His example and words will not be soon forgotten. I am so grateful to know that life continues and that Christ has a place for him- and for me- in His holy halls.

May we all be better peacemakers and lovers of the Savior.

Hard & Soft

I got to thinking today about the words we use and the tone we use them in.

Cruel and hurtful words are like barbs. Pointed and ridged, they stick to you with a painful tenacity. They are hard to remove and they pull at you the more you try.

Kind and caring words are like the breeze. They whisper past, sometimes making an impact in ruffled hair or clothes, but usually just floating on by. No long-lasting marks except in memory.

This seems so backwards, and so sad. It makes me sad, anyway. I got a compliment today and tried to bask in and enjoy it but found the words and the feelings drifting away while the hurtful words from a previous encounter started to itch and to tug at my heart.

How do you make kind words stay? Ones that are true and build you up? Erecting a wall deflects barbs, but it also stops the breeze.

I’d really like to know.

I’m fine

Dark. Alone. Cold. Hunched. Stiff. Tight. Curled. Aching. Scared. Worried. Clenched. Hard. Tired. 

Knowing no one would miss you if you were gone. No one would call you. No one would invite you. No one would hug you. No one would want you. 

Lost.

Do you have a friend? Someone you can call anytime? Laugh with and cry with? Share hopes and fears with? Who gives you compassion and understanding, inspires and challenges you to be better? Always withholds judgment. Trusts you. Wants to share their life and your life with you?

You are lucky.

Depression hits hard, man. It is so crappy feeling this way. Trying so hard to do and be better, feeling ignored and dismissed.

And alone.

I know that Jesus is there. I know I will be ok. Light will shine again and I will find peace. I will. He will. I know I am not forsaken, so honestly I’m doing better than probably many others. 

It’s just so darn hard. And lonely. And dark. Struggling makes you feel weak. Like a disappointment, failure, fraud. And every single word or gesture, every acknowledgement or lack thereof, every whisper or shout and look from someone’s eyes spells judgment. Misery. Disdain. Dismissal.

Even if it’s not meant to.

So what do you do? When your own brain fights against you? Where do you turn? When no one knows, no one cares? 

Jesus, of course. Yes, I know. 

I do. I have. I will.

And…eventually…this too shall pass.

I have to believe that.

It’s all I have.

not what I thought I’d be writing today

…

Season 10 opens tonight.

An incredible milestone. Phenomenal. Ten years ago, some would have said “unattainable”. But look! Here these people are! Being wonderful and opening a truly fantastic show.

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t exhausted. There has been a weight on me for a while now that just feels so heavy. Every thing I try seems to get stopped before it flies. Every word I say seems to be misunderstood. Every hope I plant feels crushed underfoot. Lots of “no”, “don’t do that”, “just change it”, “you’re wrong”, and it eats at me. It shouldn’t, I shouldn’t take it on me, and yet it’s felt so sticky.

Even today trying to decide if I should write this post and what I should say has been hard. How do I express gratitude and joy when I feel so alone? 

Should I even keep that? Or delete it so no one can judge and think I’m ungrateful?

…

I can’t even write a happy post about Season 10 because I’m sitting here … stuck. This is so stupid.

Because I am, I truly am, so grateful. And I see so many beautiful and powerful blessings in my life. I recognize the importance and magnitude of this milestone. It’s amazing.

So. Happy opening to Season 10. This isn’t going on social media. I will share it here for someone to find and hopefully understand, but I know that it won’t be understood there. 

What will I do?

This is the question I’ve been asking myself all afternoon. “What will I do?”

Good people everywhere agree that the shooting today was tragic, evil, and unnecessary violence toward a human being.

And… so what will I do?

Honestly, mostly I’ve been tempted to hide. To ditch social media, to bury my head, to snuggle in blankets and wait for it to pass. I know it won’t. It’s tempting to try.

In these times of tragedy and heartbreak, what will I do? Many have said that this is discouraging to those who would speak up and speak out- making them fearful for their safety. And that makes sense.

I also want to know how to raise someone who would never do this sort of violent act. I am sure that most parents do not raise their children to be killers. And from all appearances, this shooter was not a child, but an adult man. We cannot know his motivations, not yet.

But I hope I can raise my child to never feel so dark, so alone, so angry, that she feels her only recourse is to take a life. I worry that this is the world- violence when others don’t listen is an easy answer and may even feel good in the moment. But it is unarguably wrong. I want to raise my daughter better so this is never her choice.

Constant

Life never goes as planned. I don’t know of many people who’s life has gone as they planned and expected.

For me, my life has been very different than I thought it would. Children, occupation, location, all of it I imagined being so different than the way it’s turned out.

Today, though, instead of just thinking about how I should be grateful for my life (which I am), I thought about what has been constant in my life.

Starting of course, with the love of my Savior. He’s been there in every moment of my life- good and bad, high and low, and even the “regular” stuff. His constancy is something that I depend on in all parts of my life and that I am so incredibly grateful for.

Also including the love of my family in what is constant. My parents, my siblings, my grandparents, my husband and daughter.

The feeling of peace in the temple has always been a constant, even when I didn’t understand it all the way as a teenager.

The power of music.

The light of laughter.

And as we are contemplating more unexpected changes and pivots in life, these constants are what I’m depending on to keep us grounded, hopeful, and close to what matters most.

Blessings

It’s been hard recently for me to find and count my blessings. I’ve been depressed and anxious, overwhelmed and exhausted. It has been a struggle to find positivity in my days.

I just had the most amazing week with my family. My parents took us all to California for a vacation and we had the best time. Disneyland, Universal, the beach, and mostly being together made for an incredible time. I loved it. I am soooo tired now and I am so grateful to be.

Since I have a few minutes while sitting at the temple (my usual spot on Sundays), I decided it would be good to write some blessings since I’ve been feeling good.

1. my parents. Truly the best.
2. my siblings. Goll I love them.
3. my honorary siblings.
4. my niece and nephews.
5. my husband.
6. my daughter. (She was a CHAMP)
7. sunshine.
8. chocolate.
9. gummy bears.
10. comfy couches.
11. fluffy comforters.
12. time together.
13. laughter.
14. cool breezes.
15. shade.
16. amazing food.
17. uplifting music.
18. inspiring stories.
19. sunglasses that fit my face.
20. cars that get us there and back safely.
21. restaurants.
22. yummy food.
23. air fried potatoes.
24. warm showers.
25. books.
26. shorts with deep pockets.
27. generosity.
28. kindness.
29. compassion.
30. love.
31. so much love.
32. And love again.

A million thank yous to my parents for the most perfect week. And to my family for being people I want to be with for a week. ;) I can’t wait til we get to do it again.

No one asked

It’s so frustrating being spoken for. It is something I’ve tried not to do for my kid as she’s grown, and as a result I’ve become more aware of when it happens as an adult.

No one asked me if I wanted to help… they assumed I would and were frustrated when I didn’t.

No one asked me how I felt about not having babies… which is probably a good thing because maybe I wouldn’t have reacted wisely, but also felt isolating and lonely.

No one asked me how my business is doing… and made statements about what I need without any context or inside knowledge.

No one asked what I needed… and then when they did it was too late and I had done it myself.

No one asked… they spoke for me, over me, against me, assuming my intent and needs.

And I was left alone.

Jacob 3:1

It has been an insane week. So many highs, so many lows. Not much in between.

I am aware enough to know that I am blessed and I have much to be thankful for. I can see that not every day is all bad and there are many beautiful and wonderful things happening in my life.

And it has been an awful week. Full of hard, disappointment, fear, frustration, devastation, shock, and soul-deep heaviness. It’s so heavy.

I opened my scriptures to the next I was to read that night, and it was Jacob 3:1. I immediately knew that I was supposed to be reading that verse at that moment on purpose. Pretty amazing.

I am not sure that it made me feel much better, but at least I had a reminder that I am being heard in my sorrow. I don’t have any more answers after reading than I did before, but I was reminded that I’m not alone. He is hearing me. Answers will…eventually…come.

I can let that be enough for today.

Father’s Day

Happy Father’s Day!

I get to see both of my grandfathers this weekend and spend time with both my dad and husband. I am so blessed and so incredibly grateful.

I love my dad so much. His example of goodness and faith, his courage and happiness, his ability to comfort and strengthen others have always been pillars of my life. I am glad for every chance to celebrate him.

I know that I am fortunate to have my grandfathers and to have had them with me for so much of my life. They both taught me invaluable lessons and gave me immeasurable love. They are rocks in my foundation and I love them with all my heart.

Daniel is the greatest dad for Hannalyn. Watching him love her makes me love him even more.

What a great day. I can’t wait to celebrate.