tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7291220404313514682024-03-19T03:48:29.611-05:00Spotlight on Stigma... Welcomed but Not AcceptedTracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.comBlogger161125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-68913704188209253102024-03-03T18:05:00.001-06:002024-03-13T08:02:52.975-05:00Success When You Feel Like a Failure<p>Maybe it's because I have perfectionist tendencies. Maybe it's because I'm a people-pleaser at heart. Maybe it's because nothing but being #1 is good enough.</p><p>But I feel like a failure a lot of the time.</p><p>This is contrary to what others see about me. I am actually pretty accomplished. Not counting this blog (which, to date, has over 150 posts), I have had over 250 distinct articles published from 1-4 times each. I have literally had close to or more than 1,000 photos published. My stories are published in three books. </p><p>I have interviewed and/or taken photos of some big names such as Darcy Lynn, America's Got Talent winner; Ginger Duggar Vuolo of 19 Kids and Counting; Michael Jr, headlining comedian; Francine Rivers, best-selling author; and Jon Erwin, producer/director of American Underdog as well as many other high-grossing movies. I've covered major events like the K-Love Fan Awards weekend; major and minor sports leagues; IndyCar and NASCAR; and the 2019 Southern Baptist National Convention. </p><p>Even with all these - as well as many other successes - in my 55-year life, I STILL feel like a failure the majority of the time.</p><p>However... one thing I'm trying really hard to learn is that the biggest successes can come out of the little things, especially if you have mental and/or physical issues that you have to overcome.</p><p>Here are some examples:</p><p>- There is a monthly meeting I try to attend, basically a networking and sharing event for women of purpose. It's on the second floor of an office building - and stairs are the only way to access the room where it's held. </p><p>I have a phobia about stairs. I have a worse phobia about open stairs. Add to that, the stairs are outdoors, where rain or dew makes them even scarier.</p><p>The first time I went to this meeting, it took EVERYTHING in me to get up those stairs. I literally shook for more than half of the meeting. But I made it. </p><p>THAT'S a success.</p><p>(After attending several times, it's getting easier, but it's still rough every time.)</p><p>- Because of having Bipolar Disorder, Type 2, there are days that I literally have a hard time not talking (it's a weird feeling to not be able to stop even when you want to). There are other days that I have a hard time talking at all.</p><p>In the past, I have tried to hide this struggle. However, recently in events such as the one I just mentioned, when I introduce myself I try to be transparent about this issue. </p><p>In a place where it feels like everyone else attending has everything together except for me, sharing something that can be considered a major defect is difficult, to say the least.</p><p>But the first time I did it, so many came up to me afterward and congratulated me on being vulnerable and authentic.</p><p>That's ANOTHER success.</p><p>- I am very overweight. It's something I've tried to fix my entire life and finally, I decided it couldn't be changed for whatever reason, and I've been trying to come to peace with it.</p><p>However, I know that I still need to eat to be healthier, even if I never lose a pound. Like most people, especially women (stereotypical, I know, but I feel it's still true), I sometimes crave chocolate. And as a food addict, when I crave something, it's especially hard to avoid giving in.</p><p>One of my favorite ways to indulge is a Smoky Mountain Fudge milkshake from Jack's (a fast food chain in the South). In fact, in the past, the majority of times I have passed a Jack's, I have to fight with myself to not run through the drive-through.</p><p>However, lately when I've been really, really craving one of those wonderful milkshakes, I would just about be drooling by the time I got to my local Jack's - only to find out there was a long line in the drive-through. Instead of getting in line, I would decide that it wasn't worth it.</p><p>Now, that might be a normal response for a neurotypical, one who doesn't deal with food addiction, but for me, that was not what I would typically do. </p><p>The scenario with the long line happened the next few times I wanted one.</p><p>Now, I drive past Jack's either without thinking about the milkshake at all or I can dismiss the thought without the fight.</p><p>This is DEFINITELY a success.</p><p>In every one of these scenarios, I felt like a total failure the first time (or multiple times) I tried to change. But these types of successes, over time, will actually do more to impact my life for the good than the big ones - the awards, the photos and articles being published, and other accolades. </p><p>Let's celebrate all successes, even the ones that may seem insignificant at the time.</p><p><br /></p>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-42245596975936289762024-02-27T09:27:00.000-06:002024-02-27T09:27:53.715-06:00Floaters (No, Not the Up-In-the-Air Kind)<p>If you read this blog at all, you know that I'm a photographer and a writer. My eyes are really important to me. Visual acuity is important to me. Not seeing things that aren't there is also important to me.</p><p>Rewind back to Christmas Eve 2022. I wasn't feeling well (it turns out I had the flu and was in the hotel room all day instead of hanging out with my husband's family for Christmas), but I just thought I was tired at the time.</p><p>I started seeing flashes of light in my peripheral vision of my left eye. I sometimes have visual migraines so I thought it had to do with that, even though this wasn't what happens to me typically. I took some ibuprofen and tried to rest - and not worry. After a while, when my anxiety started ramping up about what was going on, I did some online research (after all, it was Christmas Eve - no doctors) to make sure it wasn't something I had to deal with immediately.</p><p>Thankfully, it wasn't. </p><p>Then I noticed the floaters. I didn't think too much about them at first. I've had floaters before. Never this many or this big, but it's not a new thing.</p><p>I really thought they would go away... that they would be reabsorbed (do they do that?) or my brain would learn to ignore them. More research found that usually in six months they would either go away or be bearable to deal with. </p><p>My online searches also revealed a few OTC therapies I could try with no risk. When there was no change after a couple of months, I chose a supplement - L-Theanine - to try. It didn't help. I was already taking some other OTC supplements for my eye health since my cataract surgery so I stopped there.</p><p>After six months, I went to my eye doctor and asked if there was anything that could be done. He said that eventually, I should adjust. He may have mentioned laser therapy but if he did, he also discouraged me from going that route. I simply remember leaving the office dejected, with no hope.</p><p>Because living with it was the only option I seemed to have, I did so. It got in the way of my living as a photographer, but what could I do? I had to make do. Besides, with only one eye affected, I kept in mind that it could have been worse.</p><p>Fast-forward to January 2024. It got worse. The same thing happened in my right eye. At least this time it wasn't accompanied by the fear of earlier... I knew the signs that showed I needed to go to the doctor/ER and I wasn't "seeing" any of them.</p><p>More floaters followed. It became harder and harder to ignore them at this point. It affected editing photos and writing more than anything because when I work, I stare at two extra-large monitors. The floaters are worse when you dart your eyes from side to side, which I do constantly when I'm on the computer.</p><p>However, though work is affected the most overall, what is really unnerving is the peripheral vision issues. So many times, I think someone has come up beside me, only to find it's a floater. When driving, I have to be extra careful to make sure the lane is clear (thankfully, I have lane assist with my car!) because a floater can look like a vehicle coming up.</p><p>This issue is the biggest problem when I'm doing a photography shoot. I use my peripheral vision a lot while my face is plastered against the viewfinder. Not knowing whether something is real or not in your outer vision gets to you after a while - and makes concentrating on the photos needed harder than usual.</p><p>Speaking of "getting to you," there's one more reason that I am having a hard time with these little black specks - my mental health. I don't have a diagnosis of OCD but I definitely have some obsessions and compulsions. These and my other mental health issues make it really difficult to ignore the floaters and they can increase my anxiety (which is regularly high already). </p><p>I'm sharing all this because, on a fluke, my mom had an optical issue where she needed a retinal specialist. I had no idea this kind of doctor existed! I took her to the doctor and realized that THEY might be able to help me.</p><p>Asking the tech, she told me that not only did they deal with floaters, the doctor we were seeing had a special interest in floaters. He has developed a website - www.floaterstories.com - that explains what's going on, its history, the impact of floaters on everyday life, and, obviously, stories of those who have experienced them.</p><p>I knew I had at least a chance of getting rid of them. This morning I went to this specialist. After several tests to measure my acuity and the amount of floaters I have, I waited nervously for the verdict.</p><p>He told me what I had feared - that he had seen much worse. However, he went on to say that a condition like this doesn't have a clinical guideline to show whether or not a person should have surgery done. It depends on the person and how much the floaters negatively impact his/her life. </p><p>So, I was the one who got to choose. (HUGE sigh of relief!)</p><p>Needless to say (but I'm saying it anyway), I'm choosing surgery. There is a risk with any surgery, but I feel that the possibility of being free of these annoying distractions will be worth it.</p><p>I'll try to remember to do an update after it's over. Until then, I'll just be waiting and praying that it goes well - and trying not to let my anxiety rule.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-9777111516545402262024-01-28T15:48:00.004-06:002024-01-28T15:48:48.084-06:00Once Again, I'm Ba-ack!<p> If you've read this blog any length of time at all, you know that as much as my desire to be consistent is, my life doesn't allow for much consistency. I'm not saying this as an excuse... it's just the way it is.</p><p>When you deal with (summarized)...</p><p>- multiple physical and mental health issues,</p><p>- getting married at 54 years old to someone who was never married... and only being a little over a year into that marriage,</p><p>- a grown daughter with multiple physical and mental health issues, </p><p>- a struggling freelance business that, though it makes money, never seems to allow me to get ahead, and</p><p>- living with my elderly parents and helping them out...</p><p>... you don't have much left for things that aren't necessary.</p><p>This time it was almost a three-month-long illness (complications from surgery) that ended with my dad's death. I was at the hospital the vast majority of the days, often getting there around 7am. </p><p>At first, I tried to work while I was there. In fact, anything posted from September 2023 until the first part of December 2023, was written while I was there. Some were written early on during that time, but due to being interrupted by a doctor or nurse, I didn't finish them until further into the hospital stay.</p><p>The stress, exhaustion, and roller-coaster ride that was my dad's illness, as he would get better and we thought he'd go home, only to have a setback, really took a toll. As would be expected, it wore me out emotionally, but it also wore me out physically - so much so, that I got very sick the week before he died and didn't fully recover for over a month.</p><p>Until this time I had never dealt with the death of a close family member. Of course, being my age, my grandparents have already passed away, but when they all died, I lived in another state. It was sad but it didn't affect my day-to-day life.</p><p>This was completely different. As I mentioned earlier, my husband and I live with my parents. We have always been there to help them out as needed, but there was the underlying knowledge that it was also to be there for the survivor when one of them died. </p><p>I had no idea what all happens when a person dies. I don't mean the funeral, burial, etc (though those are more extensive than I realized), but everything else. I've thought about it before because I was a single mom for 15 years and wanted to have as much as possible ready in case I died before my daughter, but there's no way to anticipate everything when it's basically just a thought experiment.</p><p>Add to this that in the past few years, my dad has been showing signs of dementia. He was mostly able to stay independent, but his organizational skills went very downhill. He put paperwork wherever he felt like it. So, one of my first tasks after the funeral was over was to scour the house for anywhere paperwork that we needed to move forward could be.</p><p>Then I took all of those documents and sorted... and sorted... and sorted. I would think I was done and happen to think of somewhere else to look - and would find more. Remember that I was still sick during this time - and very, very exhausted. For a while, if I sat down without anything urgent that needed to be done, I fell asleep. That's not my norm.</p><p>It seemed that there were roadblocks with every step, in addition. For example, my dad's death certificate - which is necessary to do almost anything financially for my mom - had the wrong name on it. We had to wait to get it fixed before we could, as another example, apply for his pension benefits to be switched to my mom's name. </p><p>Then when we got all that done, we got the official application for a survivor's pension, the name was wrong on it too! We again had to wait to get it fixed before I could take my mom to get it notarized and sent in to the pension board.</p><p>There was also a lot of family drama concerning all this that I won't go into. Just let me say that it's been a major deal and was the cause for me to drop to the lowest low I've had in a few years.</p><p>But now, almost two months after my dad's death and close to five since all this started, I'm finally doing more than trying to get "back to normal" (whatever that is). I'm somewhat succeeding. </p><p>For the vast majority of these past five months, I've been at home when I wasn't at the hospital or at a photography shoot. My husband and I did get to go on a long-planned and already paid-for vacation when we thought he was getting better, but had to come home early when he took a turn for the worse.</p><p>Church, friends, shooting for fun, and even something as small as going out to eat didn't happen. Being able to work was sporadic, at best. Much of what I did regularly before, like my pool workouts, had to be put on the back burner. </p><p>I still am spending a lot of time getting everything straight for my mom. I'm trying to streamline things that will make our lives easier, like getting her accounts on auto-pay, rearranging kitchen items so she can get them without help, and moving her prescriptions to a pharmacy much closer to our house.</p><p>Hours and hours and hours have been spent on all this... and there are still some things I'm trying to get worked out for her, so it's not over. Knowing it will technically never be "all over," (at least not until she's gone, and I'm trying my best to keep that from happening for a long time), I'm working to adjust to the "new normal." </p><p>This new normal will mean getting used to being interrupted when I'm working because she can't reach something (there are never enough low cabinets). The new normal will mean I have to communicate a lot more about my upcoming schedule to make sure she'll be okay while I'm gone. The new normal will mean taking her to doctor's appointments, making sure her bills are paid, and staying on top of car and home maintenance. </p><p>But I'm hopeful I can back to doing this... consistently. (Like THAT ever actually happened - LOL!)</p><p>You never know, though. After all, doesn't everyone say that anything is possible?</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>harpofworshiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028931505506111677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-15121856866824245522023-11-29T10:12:00.001-06:002024-01-28T15:54:48.575-06:00How to Interview (if You were Never Trained How)<p>Journalism was not a field I ever planned to go
into. Both my bachelor’s and master’s degrees were in education and when I
first decided to try freelancing seven years ago, I planned to use the skills
I've honed over the years as a photographer to make a living. <o:p></o:p></p><p>As an avid reader, I did have a secret dream of
being a writer, specifically of writing a book one day. But to regularly write
articles for newspapers and magazines? That was so far out of my thinking it
wasn't even a dream.<o:p></o:p></p><p>Note that I have absolutely no training. I didn’t
minor in journalism. I didn’t even take a journalism class. For that matter, I
took the most basic English class I could as I was planning to be a math and/or
physics major.<o:p></o:p></p><p>It was a "God-thing" that I started
writing professionally. Working as a photographer led to a chance to write a
series of articles. That led to writing more.<o:p></o:p></p><p>But before you decide that this post isn’t worth
your time and you leave to read another post from someone who does know what
they are doing, let me explain where I am now. <o:p></o:p></p><p style="margin: 0in;">I’m not bragging because it
really was God-thing after God-thing that got me to where I am, but in the four
years since I started writing professionally, I have interviewed and written
articles about musical artists, film producers/directors, best-selling authors,
and professional sports.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">In
addition, I’ve won both local and national awards for my writing and gotten
numerous compliments from those who have been interviewed a lot throughout
their careers.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="background: white; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;"> </span><span style="color: #1d2228; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">I must
be doing something right.</span></p><p>So now, back to the beginning…<o:p></o:p></p><p>When I started writing for a newspaper, I started
having a lot of what I thought were great ideas for articles. However, I had no
idea of the steps to take an idea all the way to a published article.<o:p></o:p></p><p>Between pride and social anxiety, I hesitated to
ask others for help. I didn’t know about SCWC (Southern Christian Writer’s
Conference) or other similar organizations.<o:p></o:p></p><p>I decided I would try to figure it out on my own,
with a little advice from a friend who was a former journalist.<o:p></o:p></p><p>My first two articles were relatively easy. I saw
that TobyMac and Hillsong United were coming to Birmingham, AL and I got a
green light to try to cover the concerts.<o:p></o:p></p><p>The first hurdle was finding the agent/tour
manager/publicist to grant me a press pass. That’s still how I start today –
type in the name of the artist, follow it with “manager” and see what Google says.<o:p></o:p></p><p>Sometimes this works. Sometimes it doesn’t. At first,
I didn’t have the skills to go beyond that step, but thankfully, at the time it
worked.<o:p></o:p></p><p>After submitting those two, I really caught the
bug. I realized this was fun and I had a feeling it was something I could do
well. <o:p></o:p></p><p>From these I went to a journalist-type coverage of
a workshop at Samford. I took notes and photos, but other than a follow-up
question or two, I still wasn’t doing any real interviewing… yet. <o:p></o:p></p><p>Then came the first big interview (or so I
thought) - Chonda Pierce. I got in touch with her management and included a
note in the pitch to the paper that she would also be a good podcast subject.<o:p></o:p></p><p>They thought that was a great idea. So, my “first
interview” was conducted by someone else. They used some of my questions, but
mostly it was their interview.<o:p></o:p></p><p>I recorded and took notes (literally transcribing
the whole thing without software… pro tip – don’t!) and wrote an article based
on the podcast.<o:p></o:p></p><p>When my first real solo interview opportunity came
up, I hadn’t asked for it. I didn’t even want to get the information that way.
I wanted to cover the event as I had been doing. <o:p></o:p></p><p>However, I couldn’t get into the event so my first
ever “real” interview was done only because I couldn’t get the information
through research alone.<o:p></o:p></p><p>Looking back to that interview, I have to laugh. I
hand-wrote my notes. I again transcribed every word from my voice recording. It
was a mess and took forever to finish.<o:p></o:p></p><p>To try to improve (without bothering anyone), I
found writing organizations; I watched online workshops; I listened to great interviewers
doing their thing. But mostly I simply tried to analyze what went well and what
didn’t after each interview. <o:p></o:p></p><p>From there, it just evolved.<o:p></o:p></p><p>At first my questions came mostly from what I wanted
to learn. Even though I kept in mind that it was also about the reader, it took
a while for me to think more from the publication’s audience’s perspective.
(Boy, is that embarrassing to admit!)<o:p></o:p></p><p>I also didn’t want to simply regurgitate what had
already been written so my questions had to reflect that. <o:p></o:p></p><p>One thing that helped was a game my journalist
friend shared early on: “Stump the Interviewee.” <o:p></o:p></p><p>Within the big goal of composing an interesting,
well-written article, my small goal, especially with those who had been
interviewed a lot and had pat answers developed for most questions, is to hear
at least once during the interview, “Man, that’s a great question!”<o:p></o:p></p><p>One of my favorite instances of this was a
question I asked Matthew West (one of the few interviews where I’m such a big
fan that I had to work to stay professional and not go all “fan-girl” during
the interview). <o:p></o:p></p><p>I came up with the question during the K-Love Fan
Awards’ press conference. I thought it was amazing (in my humble opinion). <o:p></o:p></p><p>The question was "It’s obvious that fans
resonate with your message of being honest, real, and vulnerable. Why do you
think it’s still so hard to be transparent at church or with other Christians?
What can we do about it?”<o:p></o:p></p><p>When he didn’t show for the press conference, I
got to ask it during an interview – and I got my “Man, that’s a great
question!” <span style="font-family: "Segoe UI Emoji", sans-serif;">😊</span><o:p></o:p></p><p>I’m still learning (and know I always will be). Though
I love my current style and it seems to work, I’m now trying to figure out how
to be more efficient, with more directed questions.<o:p></o:p></p><p>That’s one of the great things about writing; it’s
a field where someone can start at any level of training and learn as you go. <o:p></o:p></p><p>Plus, you never know where you’ll end up. Maybe you
could also interview Matthew West!<o:p></o:p></p><p>Other tips/advice:<o:p></o:p></p><p style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I try to do interviews
from home so I can take notes on my computer. <o:p></o:p></p><p style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I make sure to record
it… on two platforms. It’s happened more than once that one of my recording
devices failed. <o:p></o:p></p><p style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I randomly add timestamps
throughout so that I can easily find exactly what was said.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->When I hear a
potential quote, I write “QUOTE” with the timestamp. I’ve also started adding “START
WITH THIS” or “END WITH THIS” to refresh my memory later.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I always ask for
permission to record. I’ve never been told no, but a refusal is always possible.<o:p></o:p></p><p style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]-->-<span style="font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span><!--[endif]-->I have a system to
back-up all of my notes and recordings.<o:p></o:p></p><p><o:p> </o:p></p><p>BIO:<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a name="_Hlk152172490"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Tracy is
an award-winning professional writer/photographer and has had hundreds of
articles and thousands of photos published in newspapers, magazines and online.
She’s passionate about helping others and finding unique angles for telling
stories through images and words. <o:p></o:p></span></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">Offshoots of this passion are her blogs – one about her
learning curve (and mistakes) as a freelancer and another about mental health
and invisible illnesses calle</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">d “</span><a href="http://www.spotlightonstigma.com/"><span style="color: windowtext; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%; text-decoration-line: none;">Spotlight</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"> on Stigma - Welcomed but Not Accepted.” She’s also
learning sign language and goes to a Deaf church. She has one adult daughter, is
a caregiver for her elderly parents, and recently married a fellow
photographer, Travis Frontz, who has just joined her freelance business
full-time. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">To find out more about their work, go to </span><a href="http://www.novelphotos.com/"></a><a href="http://www.novelphotos.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">www.NovelPhotos.com</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">. To read her blog about
being a freelancer, go to the Novel Photos website and find “Novel Photos’
Blog” in the menu. To read her blog about stigmas, go to </span><a href="http://www.spotlightonstigma.com/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-font-kerning: 0pt; mso-ligatures: none;">www.SpotlightonStigma.com</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;">.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;"> </span></p>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-6748235661196150732023-11-02T14:38:00.001-05:002023-11-02T14:38:23.179-05:00When Hopes and Dreams Attach to ThingsI'm embarrassed even as I write this. <div><br /></div><div>Backstory... My husband recently joined my freelancing business. It's something we had planned to do "one day" but not right now. </div><div><br /></div><div>An unexpected job loss and a little too much work for me to handle it on my own pushed us to try to make this work.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's not like we were living in the lap of luxury. Together we made only about $60k a year. Another $5k+ went towards medical bills due to his not-so-ideal health insurance and my many physical and mental health issues and another several thousand goes to help my daughter who currently can't work due to medical issues.</div><div><br /></div><div>With the change, we technically went to just over the poverty level. I really think we can build it to the point we'll have enough to live on.</div><div><br /></div><div>But with the transition, it became time to sell some of the things that I've been thinking about selling for a while - to help pad our income until we can figure things out on making a living doing this.</div><div><br /></div><div>Some were no-brainers... the laptop I never use but kept for a backup, the camera that I never used but also kept for a backup, some small camera accessories, etc. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then there was another item that I had been wanting to sell for a while, but also kept it "just in case." If you follow any decluttering site, one common thing they tell you is to ask yourself if it's something that brings joy, or conversely, does it make you feel guilty when you think about it. This definitely qualified under the guilt category.</div><div><br /></div><div>It was my studio set. It was one of the first things I bought for my business and with every accessory or new backdrop, my dreams got bigger and bigger about how it could be used. </div><div><br /></div><div>However, I live in a very tiny space and all of those backdrops took up a lot of room. The backdrop stands didn't take up much room, but the case I bought for them (and the backdrop I was using on a shoot), took up one large shelf by itself.</div><div><br /></div><div>However, over the years, I only used it a few times. Then I got practical and bought a t-shaped stand with a popout smaller backdrop. It does the job well for headshots or couples and is much, much easier to store, transport, and setup. </div><div><br /></div><div>So it was this item that made the most sense to sell as it was the most unlikely to need in the future and it by far created more space once it was gone.</div><div><br /></div><div>I listed it, half thinking that it would probably never sell. Though we needed the money, I kept my expectations low. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then one day, I got a serious inquiry. Someone wanted to buy it!</div><div><br />I quickly found out that I was more attached to it than I thought. Though the money from the sale would really help with that month's bills, there was a part of me that hoped it wouldn't go through.</div><div><br /></div><div>As I pondered this irrational thought, I remembered another time this kind of thing happened. When my daughter was young, I bought her a used swingset. It was the focal point of play whenever her friends came over. It was a cherished item for years, even after the time she broke her wrist while doing a trick on it.</div><div><br /></div><div>However, it was a bear to mow around. I didn't have, and couldn't afford, a weed eater. So I would try to get as close as possible with the lawn mower. I did a decent job and it looked okay, but it took time that I would have much rather spent doing other things.</div><div><br /></div><div>After two or three years went by without her using it, I knew it was time for it to have a new home. I listed it for free on Craigslist (think of it as the original Facebook Marketplace) and was excited about getting it out of the yard.</div><div><br /></div><div>It took no time before someone let me know he wanted it. He couldn't afford to buy one for his young children and was thrilled that he found one for free. He planned to come and pick it up the following weekend.</div><div><br /></div><div>My social anxiety makes it difficult to talk to people in these situations (which is partially why I didn't sell it - I would have had to interact to get the cash as this was before Venmo and CashApp). So, he told me when he would be there and I hid in the house while he took it apart to take to his children.</div><div><br /></div><div>I did, though, peek out the window to see his progress and so I would know when I was free to go outside without having to talk to someone.</div><div><br /></div><div>As I looked, I was blown away by the emotions that overwhelmed me, as I started to cry hysterically. </div><div><br /></div><div>It was simply an unused, in-the-way swingset on the surface, but emotionally, it was the dream of having more children leaving in pieces on that truck.</div><div><br /></div><div>When I met the man and his wife to do the transaction for the studio kit sale, I felt similarly. It was different in that I knew I would still do photography, but it hit some of those same emotions with all of the hopes and dreams I had those early days of doing this business leaving in the couples' truck.</div><div><br /></div><div>I try to tell myself the memories are still there - and in both instances the hopes and dreams have morphed into different and better hopes and dreams - but even now, there's just a little bit of sadness about those times of my life that are now gone forever.</div><div><br /></div>harpofworshiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028931505506111677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-14894031464827969912023-10-12T09:59:00.001-05:002023-11-02T15:11:40.997-05:00Categorizing Music<p>On the surface, this topic has absolutely nothing to do with stigmas. But read until the end and you'll see why this was included in this particular blog.</p><p>One day recently I was listening to the radio. My husband and I are now driving a new-to-us car and we haven't figured out the radio system yet, so we were testing different methods to find out the easiest way to program and access our favorite stations.</p><p>Some of the stations we ran across were obvious - a popular song from the 70s was pretty indicative of an oldies channel; a twangy sound was most likely the local country channel; the mellow speaking voice meant it was probably NPR or a local talk radio show.</p><p>But some were harder to guess. Sometimes the lines blurred. A pop rock sound could be a contemporary Christian channel or a latest hits station. Modern country can be confused with some types of old-school rock. Even what seems to obviously be NPR, could potentially be news.</p><p>It made me think - where is the line drawn. Just how "twangy" does a song have to be to be classified as country? How loud and raucous does a song have to be to be classified as hard rock? And when does a current hit finally evolve into an "oldie"?</p><p>(Funny sideline story... one night I was driving in northern Alabama after visiting my family. I was a little sleepy and was scanning the scarce channels to find something I liked that would help me stay awake. I finally came across a song I loved and sang along happily... </p><p>That is, until I heard, "That was [insert name of a band] and this is the Oldies Channel!" It was one of the first indicators that I was actually old and it struck me harder than I would have imagined.)<br /></p><p>Back to categorizing music...</p><p>Who comes up with the dividing lines? Is it the artist, the agent, the promotor, or the public? </p><p>When an artist "crosses over" it usually means a jump from one confining category to another. Examples are a Latin singer becoming mainstream or a Christian artist being played in with Top 40 hits.</p><p>But what if, as mentioned in the second example, there was no dedicated Christian channel in the first place? There would be no need to try to break out of the shell of only playing to a Christian audience. Non-Christians would have to listen to Christian music and vice-versa. </p><p>There would be no opposition, no polarization, no stigma of being "only a Christian band" (a possible sentiment of the non-Christians) or being "only a secular band" (a possible sentiment of the Christians).</p><p>I don't have an answer... I just thought it was an interesting question. But I do happen to think that if this was true, like Louis Armstrong said, "What a wonderful world."</p><p> </p><p><br /></p>harpofworshiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028931505506111677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-70924577268229314982023-10-01T16:50:00.003-05:002023-10-01T16:50:44.686-05:00Racial Stigma - Sadly, One I Haven't Thought Much About<p><span style="font-family: inherit;">A couple of weeks ago, I attended a conference in Birmingham, AL called "There IS a Balm in Gilead." It was to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church bombing. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Growing up in Birmingham, I have seen both sides of racial discrimination. It's still hard to believe how long segregation persisted in this southern city. I have met many black people who weren't able to get the job they wanted due to their race.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">But on the flip side, my dad was also directly impacted by discrimination, being passed over for a big promotion in the Birmingham Fire Department by an unqualified black man.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">A little over two years ago, I had the great privilege of interviewing Barbara Cross, one of the children of Reverend John Cross, the pastor of Sixteenth Street Baptist. She lived through the bombing and was able to forgive those who did it.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">You can read the article I wrote on the Alabama Baptist newspaper's website at https://thealabamabaptist.org/her-most-devastating-day-pointed-her-to-the-love-that-forgives/. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">When I found out about the conference, I thought of Barbara and wondered how she was doing. I was able to talk to her briefly which resulted in an update of the original article, found here: </span>https://thealabamabaptist.org/60-years-later-pastors-daughter-recalls-16th-street-baptist-church-bombing/<span style="font-family: inherit;">.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Due to some scheduling issues, I wasn't able to attend many sessions at the conference but what I learned resulted in a deep shame. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Over the past few years, I have written about many stigmas related to many different groups - those with mental or physical health issues, those with religious biases, those with stereotypes concerning weight, as well as some others.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Not once did I write about racial stigmas and stereotypes. It's still hard to believe that it never occurred to me to write about one of the most impactful issues of our generation.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Anyway, I'm hoping to write about the other workshops I was able to attend at some point in the future, but I was able to write and submit an article featuring the main keynote who spoke at the last session at the conference - Dr. Tony Evans.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> It was published today. It's well worth the read - not because I wrote it and I'm amazing, but because he had some excellent points, some I had never thought about.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">You can find it at </span>https://thealabamabaptist.org/tony-evans-speaks-at-anniversary-event-there-is-a-balm-in-gilead/. </p><p>Look for more posts from this conference in the weeks to come.</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-63563954519941341262023-09-30T15:17:00.002-05:002023-09-30T15:17:33.211-05:00Letting Go of Perfectionism<p>I recognized that I had perfectionistic tendencies when I was pretty young. However, I thought that was a good thing. I thought that being perfect was what everyone should aspire to.</p><p>These issues early on may have affected others, but I didn't realize. Looking back, even though I know that my perfectionism (when I achieved it, that is) probably made me too standoffish to really be friends with, it was what it did to me that was the biggest problem.</p><p>If I wasn't perfect, I had no worth. Second place wasn't good enough - I had to get first. The shame of not doing well in a piano lesson was almost too much to bear. My stomach hurt every... single... Sunday night - because I was terrified I had forgotten some homework or to study for a test.</p><p>In adulthood, friends and family were the ones who clued me in that it wasn't actually a positive trait. </p><p>Some examples of it interfering with my life included...</p><p>- not letting others come to my house unless it was absolutely spotless,</p><p>- not allowing anyone to see my newborn baby until I was dressed and had full make-up on,</p><p>- not sharing things I was good at, but not perfect at, with others.</p><p>And that's just the tip of the iceberg.</p><p>So what I did was actively combat being a perfectionist. It wasn't easy.</p><p>I did things like actively leaving the dishes in the sink instead of washing them and putting them away. Letting my hair get a little greasy before I washed it. (I still couldn't let it go too long.) I actually started leaving the house without make-up (I know - gasp!)</p><p>Those types of activities helped to tame my perfectionism - to an extent. I still see it rearing its ugly head when my reputation is at stake. </p><p>Photography and writing are examples. </p><p>I can't make grammar or spelling errors in emails and texts, because someone might think I don't know what I'm doing with words. I can't post unedited photos on Instagram because they aren't, well, perfect.</p><p>But I'm trying. I want to get rid of this trait because I know that it really does affect my relationships - with others and with myself. </p><p>So, I'll finish this so I can try to actively ignore the floor that desperately needs to be vacuumed. Keep in mind that I'm not lazy... I'm working on my mental health.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-78285331798948378562023-09-21T16:58:00.000-05:002023-09-21T16:58:06.544-05:00Why Can't I Simply Be Like "They"?<p>"They" come in smiling and laughing. "They" greet each other with lots of how-are-you's and introductions. "They" giggle when they mess up on their name tags. </p><p>"They" hug people who were perfect strangers five minutes before. "They" take a seat right next to each other and pay close attention when the speaker starts. "They" don't need anything to fidget with in order to make it through the meeting.</p><p>I'm nothing like "they."</p><p>Today was a huge example of this.</p><p>I guess it started last night. My husband and I had a big fight that I'm "not his boss" (though I kind of am currently since he recently joined me in the freelancing business I've had for about 7 years).</p><p>Add to that, it's been a rough morning. Things that should have only taken a few minutes took much longer. When I washed my hair, I pulled out one of my earrings - into the murky water of my bubble-bath-infused tub. There were a couple of packages I needed to drop in a UPS dropbox that I had to get ready.</p><p>And then I forgot I needed to get gas so I was running late. Aaaarrrrggggghhhh!</p><p>This was all on top of feeling cruddy due to not sleeping well, hurting a lot from a fibromyalgia flare-up, and fighting being in a low/depressed cycle with my bipolar. </p><p>There was only one reason I decided to go even the way I felt - to see a really good friend of mine who leads the group. Due to our crazy schedules, we haven't been able to get together in a while and I was looking forward to seeing her.</p><p>I got there... and quickly realized she wasn't there. </p><p>It made the social anxiety I deal with amplify to incredible levels. I'm not a good actor on the best day - and it definitely wasn't a "best day." When I saw "they" do their thing, I didn't have the energy or motivation to even try to pretend.</p><p>I sometimes wonder why I can't be that way - smiling and greeting everyone, asking "How are you?" as a substitute for simply saying "Hi," sitting right beside someone I've never met.</p><p>When I step back and look at it, I know that it's my social anxiety (as well as the many other mental health issues I deal with) that makes all of this so difficult. </p><p>But honestly, it's also because in my soul, I actually don't want to be like "they."</p><p>When I smile or laugh, I want it to be because I'm happy. When I ask, "How are you?" I want to care about the answer. When I hug someone, I want it to be because I like/love them. </p><p>I don't want any of this to be forced due to social obligation.</p><p>But, at the same time, I wish I could conform. It hurts to be left out. It's easy to feel "less than" when everyone around me is well put together, with nice clothes, hair, makeup and an easy smile.</p><p>Something strange has been happening lately, though. </p><p>People I'm around actually seem to like me (even though I can't do all the shiny, happy stuff). I was specifically asked to share some things about myself to the group (even though I'm nothing remarkable). I was complimented on what I wrote on my name tag ("Tracy - here but only barely").</p><p>Maybe... just maybe... it's okay that I'm not like "they" after all. Maybe it's okay to be me.</p>harpofworshiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028931505506111677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-76006862769664650452023-09-20T07:26:00.003-05:002023-09-30T17:17:49.687-05:00It's Strange How a Random Possession Can Affect You Emotionally<p>It amazes me how a possession can be tied to strong memories and even when you know it's best to get rid of it, it's difficult simply because of that tie.</p><p>I had a recent example of this happening.</p><p>When I started trying to do photography for a living, I had many ideas of how to accomplish this goal. Some were crazy; some were too difficult to carry out; some cost too much to try.</p><p>But one idea that I was I thought was brilliant. It had to do with portraits and nursing homes. </p><p>Back when I worked for Lifetouch (now Shutterfly) taking portraits of families for church directories, there was one church whose elderly didn't have a way to get there. One of the members mentioned that she wished that we had come on a different day - the day when a van picks them up and brings them to the church for senior activities.</p><p>I told her I was sorry but that we had no control over the schedule. And I really was. I hated that so many people potentially wanted portraits of them and maybe their families but couldn't get them.</p><p>After I left Lifetouch, I was still thinking about this issue. So I bought a studio backdrop stand, a few nice backdrops, and studio lighting. My plan was to take this setup to nursing homes and assisted living communities and offer to take photos of residents and their families if desired.</p><p>I thought through the logistics of doing this kind of shoot and figured it all out - pricing, distribution, etc. I recognized that many of them might not be able to figure out how to download the photos, so I set up a much more complicated system of having them printed and how I would distribute them.</p><p>After making flyers that described what I planned to do, I mailed and/or emailed all of the local senior living facilities... and waited for the huge positive response I would get.</p><p>I'm still waiting - several years later.</p><p>There wasn't one response... not one. Because cold calls are not in my wheelhouse, I didn't know what else to do, so I let the idea drop.</p><p>However, recently I interviewed a woman whose job is to help place seniors in assisted living facilities. I mentioned my idea to her and she loved it! She said she'd connect me with a lot of the homes and I got excited again about living out this idea.</p><p>Then I remembered... When my husband lost his job, I finally put my studio setup (minus the lighting) on Facebook Marketplace. I hadn't used it in a while and it was taking up a lot of space. </p><p>It had been listed for a couple of months and had only had one or two who were even a little interested so I was in no hurry to take it down from Marketplace.</p><p>Then I got a serious inquiry. This man was starting photography and really needed backdrops. I talked to him about it, honestly thinking it would fall through like so many others that I had tried to sell things to.</p><p>But he didn't. I didn't want to back out - and I decided the money and space I would gain would be beneficial - so I sold it to him.</p><p>I had no idea the emotions that would be stirred up with that decision - the hopes and dreams I had at the beginning of this journey and all of the times it didn't work out; the anxiety that I had made the wrong decision to sell it; the happiness to get rid of something that felt like a weight around my neck (since it took up so much space and I wasn't using it). </p><p>Even though I had such an emotional response, I met him at a Target parking lot and he paid me for it. I decided that it was done and I needed to move on. I could always get another one if I realized I really needed it. </p><p>Post script: That money paid for a piece of furniture I've been desperately needing - so it really did all work out. </p>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-37381522236847306452023-09-05T14:56:00.000-05:002023-09-30T17:18:20.547-05:00Realizing the Link Between Fundamentalism and a Judgmental Attitude<p>I'm a person who hates to be judged and hates to judge... but does so constantly. It's one of my character flaws that bothers me the most.</p><p>I judge to make myself feel better (when I know I'm better at something than the next person). I judge even when I know I'll feel worse (when I compare my body and mind with a healthy, young person). I simply can't stop judging.</p><p>I've known about this issue for years (and years and years). It was extremely pervasive during a time in my life when it should have been the least - my ultra-religious teenage and early adulthood years. </p><p>However, I never realized that those years were not only when it was at it's worst - those years (and previously) were most likely when it started and became such an important part of my life.</p><p>I was raised Southern Baptist. Though not as extreme as some denominations, such as the IFB (Independent Fundamental Baptist), the church I went to from the time I was 2 weeks old until I was about 16 or 17 was very conservative. It relaxed the strict standards a little through my late childhood into my early teen years, but the impact was still there.</p><p>One of the earliest memories I have of judging had to do with church. We were the kind of family that was involved in the church 5-6 days a week many weeks of the year.</p><p>We were there every Sunday morning... of course. Growing up, we also had a Sunday evening service, which we also always attended. (It was a great day when someone was sick and we got to stay home and watch "The Wide World of Disney.)<br /></p><p>Monday night was visitation - to witness to those in our neighborhood (think of a tame version of Mormons). Tuesdays and Thursdays were basketball practice nights (my dad coached, my brothers played and I was a tiny cheerleader). Wednesday night was supper and a prayer meeting. Fridays and Saturdays were full of youth activities (for my much older brothers with my parents often chaperoning and bringing my younger brother and me along).</p><p>Then it was Sunday again.</p><p>Many of my extended family attended the same church. My earliest and best friends attended the same church. Life centered around church. </p><p>We were there pretty much every time the doors opened.</p><p>From a young age, I couldn't believe there were people who didn't come every single Sunday morning. I know I wasn't overtly taught to look down on them, but I did.</p><p>But it didn't end there. Those who didn't read their Bible every day, or attend Sunday School, or attend all of the many other services and functions were not as good as we were.</p><p>As I grew up, the categories expanded. </p><p>If you watched horror movies, or celebrated Halloween, or kissed on a first date, or listened to secular music, or - heaven forbid! - drank alcohol... or committed a myriad of other "sins," I felt superior and judged their behavior.</p><p>Sin included even playing with or owning toys that someone said were wrong. (I can't remember by whose influence I learned these things.) Some examples were Rainbow Bright, Dungeons and Dragons, Cabbage Patch Girls and other randomly chosen items that God supposedly didn't want you to have.</p><p>Again, I felt superior - and judged their choices.</p><p>I had no idea that at the time, but I was learning to constantly judge everything and everyone. </p><p>However, keep in mind that I wasn't off the hook. </p><p>I judged myself. </p><p>I judged the food I ate - it was good for me or bad for me. This led to an eating disorder. I judged how I performed. This led to being perfectionistic and letting how well I did on a task determine my worth. I continued to judge others who didn't attend church as much as I did.</p><p>I was miserable - and I'm sure I made others miserable with my "holier than thou" attitude.</p><p>Realizing one of the roots of this attitude doesn't help it go away, but I feel it is important. </p><p>Maybe someone reading this hasn't recognized that what they thought was pleasing God actually causes an attitude of judgment. Maybe my revelation will free someone else before it becomes as ingrained in that person as it is in me. </p><p>Hopefully, I'll overcome it - and while I'm overcoming it, I can help others do the same.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>harpofworshiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028931505506111677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-58295118167501887352023-08-23T13:57:00.003-05:002024-03-13T08:10:25.289-05:00Faith and Fear<p>I'm a very analytical person. I analyze problems to figure out the best solution; I analyze things that are good to see if they can be made better; I analyze myself to try to understand why I do the things I do.</p><p>The subject of this post relates to the last example. </p><p>I'm 55 years old. I've been through a lot in my life - some really, really good experiences and some really, really, really bad ones with some mundane ones sprinkled in for kicks and giggles...</p><p>... and I sometimes feel like I've analyzed (really - overanalyzed) every single one of them either at the time or even years later.</p><p>One thing I have realized about myself is that when a big problem comes at me, I immediately go into figure-it-out mode. I begin mobilizing. I start working on a plan. I try to decide my next step. </p><p>At that point, I'm usually not afraid.</p><p>It's later - after I've been mobilizing and planning and deciding for hours or even days when the exhaustion hits me and the fear comes at me.</p><p>And boy, does it come - with a vengeance.</p><p>There will often be moments of peace in the middle of the fear. It's at those times I feel very proud of myself and how I've figured out how to keep calm in the midst of a storm.</p><p>It never lasts long.</p><p>To my credit, I guess, age and experience have given me a little more resiliency lately. I've seen God work in my life enough times to occasionally be able to draw from that history and apply it to what I'm dealing with at the moment.</p><p>But the fear never completely stays away.</p><p>During my teenage years, I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) as well as panic disorder. I went through a period of about a year when I was practically agoraphobic and only left my house for work (a necessity) and church (because it was one place where I felt peace). </p><p>So I'm used to the fear. I'm used to the nerves, the stress, the pressure. </p><p>It doesn't make it any easier to bear whenever it comes back with a vengeance.</p><p>Today I got some medical bills that I thought had been taken care of. Right now my husband is out of work and I'm trying to make up the slack - but I'm simply not able to because I've been sick and have a lot of family issues I'm taking care of. </p><p>I'm scared - and to add to that, I'm ashamed I'm scared. </p><p>I've seen God do so much through my life with my finances. </p><p>I've been given extra hours at work without asking just before I received a big unknown expense. Sometimes it's even been almost exactly what I needed. I've gotten checks from random places, like an overpayment or the rare child support check, just when I needed them. Though I've never been well-off (lower-middle-class was the highest "rank" I've ever been and at times even that was a far-flung dream), I've always had enough - somehow.</p><p>So then why, when I see a few bills, does my heart jump into my throat and I start feeling sick to my stomach? (I guess the stomach issues could be because of all of the physical illnesses I deal with - but I digress.)</p><p>I want so much to have faith. I can't even say that I've never seen God work in this way. He has, many times.</p><p>But...</p><p>I...</p><p>Don't...</p><p>Maybe it's simply a human thing. </p><p>I'm not accusing them of lying, but maybe those who brag about always having great faith that "everything will turn out fine" have simply forgotten the times they too were scared, the times when opening the mail was terrifying, the times they avoided looking at a bank statement or medical report as long as possible.</p><p>In the meantime, I guess I need to get off the computer and try to get into my analytical mode and figure out how these bills should be paid.</p><p>(And, oh yeah - I guess it would be a good idea to turn it over to God and ask Him to provide as I'm doing so.)</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-78406413259181956252023-08-03T13:56:00.004-05:002023-08-03T13:56:36.209-05:00What I Wish I Had Done When I Was First Diagnosed<p>Receiving a diagnosis of a chronic and/or mental illness is life-altering. It's tough to think about the future, especially if you have had undiagnosed symptoms for a while and have put all your energy into simply surviving each day.</p><p>This is true whether the diagnosis is for you or someone you love (as long as that individual is someone who relies on you for even a small part of their care).</p><p>As someone who is a partial caregiver for my parents, husband, adult daughter... and myself, there are several things I wish I had made myself do from the time any one of us was first diagnosed.</p><p>Sometime in the last decade, I realized what I should have been doing all along - and I started.</p><p>Then during COVID, when we were all stuck at home, I continued.</p><p>Intrigued?</p><p>What I realized was that if I had simply kept up with my medical records on an ongoing basis throughout the years, it would have made it a lot easier now.</p><p>I do recognize how hard that is... but trust me, it's very, very worth it.</p><p>Currently, I have a document on Google Docs (so that I can access it during an appointment) that lists a lot of the things that are asked when I start seeing a new doctor. I also have one for each of my parents which I print out for them to keep in their wallets.</p><p>You might wonder why this is necessary. You might love the doctor you have and simply can't imagine ever going to someone else.</p><p>But it will happen - insurance changes, moving, the doctor retiring, a change in the office, and a myriad of other planned and unplanned events that can and most likely will lead to changing or adding doctors at some point.</p><p>Of course, this document would look differently for everyone, but this is what I have on mine:</p><p>- My legal name and date of birth</p><p>- Date of last update</p><p>- Social security number, if you feel comfortable doing so</p><p>- Health insurance... the company, ID#, and Group #. I also put my vision insurance info and dental insurance info here.</p><p>- Primary doctor... name, name of the practice, phone and fax numbers, and the practice's address</p><p>- Pharmacy... name, phone number, and address</p><p>- Specialists... names of all of my specialists, along with the names of their practices, their specialities and the offices' phone numbers</p><p>- Prescription medicines... brand names and generic names, the dosage and frequency, who prescribed it, and why it was prescribed</p><p>- Over-the-counter vitamins and supplements (I don't worry about dosage, though there are times it would be nice to have)</p><p>- "Not current" list of prescriptions; this is just a time-saver because I've noticed that I might be taken off a med only to try it again later.</p><p>- "Things I need to remember"... dates of annual or repetitive tests I need to have done like vaccinations, mammograms, etc</p><p>- Surgical procedures... name of the surgery and when, where, and who did it, with the doctor's phone number</p><p>The next lists are overkill for most people, but if you have multiple diagnoses, I've found it's much easier to have these written out for those initial appointments and annual updates. </p><p>- Short list of diagnoses</p><p>- Short list of major illnesses, like pneumonia and scarlet fever</p><p>- Detailed timeline of major illnesses and diagnoses... the name of the diagnosis, year (or date if known) it happened, and a sentence or two about it like what meds were tried or treatments tried</p><p>- Summary of family history... each family member, including extended family, with names of their major diagnoses</p><p>- Full family history (as much as I can find out)... includes birth and date dates (if applicable) and more details about their health</p><p>- Symptoms I deal with... it's pretty obvious, but it's literally a list of all that I deal with</p><p>This last part is what I really, really wish I had kept up better. It took going through all kinds of records, including old insurance records, calendars, etc to get as much as I have, but I know it's still not complete. And no, it wasn't just because I'm a perfectionist, I had an incredibly long intake form for one program that asked.</p><p>- Medicine history... medicine, dosage (if known), date or approximate date started and stopped, in a timeline by year</p><p>- Past doctors... name, name of practice, phone number and dates I used that doctor</p><p>- Miscellaneous... I have a copy of the letter I used the last time I needed to find a counselor (again I was asked to do it so I saved it in case I was asked again)</p><p>Again, it's really difficult to keep updated when you are dealing with just trying to make it through each day, but from experience, it pays off in the long run.</p>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-15411728950029992802023-07-30T11:13:00.001-05:002023-07-30T11:13:27.963-05:00Do Churches Practice What They Preach?<p>Many church websites say "come as you are." </p><p>Yet, when you get there, you see the pastor in a suit (though nowadays not usually with a tie) and the others on stage as well as the congregation in business casual attire.</p><p>Some churches are a little more lax. In them, sometimes the men wear jeans and you see very few women in dresses. Instead, the women are wearing some type of dressy outfit - slacks and a really nice shirt.</p><p>It is very rare in most traditional churches, at least in my area of the country, to see women in jeans on Sunday mornings - and I have yet to see a female on the stage showing up that casually.</p><p>This has been a big deal to me since I was a teenager. I had a friend whose parents never attended church. She started coming with one of our mutual friends.</p><p>She wasn't poor to the extent that she didn't have food or housing, but she did have a limited amount of clothes, especially dressy options. In fact, she owned literally only two dresses.</p><p>Now, this was almost 40 years ago. Then it was very rare to ever see a woman even in slacks at church, much less jeans. </p><p>My friend was embarrassed about not having the right kind of clothes to attend on Sunday mornings, so she would go at most twice a month - to space out wearing her two dresses - in order to not have others notice that they were always the same two.</p><p>I made it my misson then to never go to church in anything but jeans. </p><p>As I entered into early adulthood, I went to a different church, one that was a lot more casual. This was one of the few churches at the time where some of the women did wear jeans. </p><p>...But not on Easter. Everyone dressed up on Easter - usually wearing new dresses or suits. </p><p>That is, except for me. I still chose to wear jeans on Easter. One of my friends asked if they were at least new. I had to laugh, because they were - but I didn't wear them BECAUSE they were new - it was a coincidence.</p><p>I've broken the vow I made to myself a few times over the last four decades, but not often - and not at all for the past decade or so.</p><p>It's even kept me from participating and serving on the worship team at one church.</p><p>After I joined the church, I emailed the worship pastor a few questions about their music ministry. </p><p>I had noticed that no matter what the congregation wore (this was one of the some men wear jeans and no women do churches), those on stage dressed up.</p><p>One of my questions was about wearing jeans if you were part of the worship team (it was the most important question).</p><p>He responded quickly to my other questions, but conveniently left that one answer out. There was a silence about the issue of wearing jeans.</p><p>I never asked again about joining the worship team there.</p><p>Even though I don't agree, I can at least understand why some want to dress up for these services. As the world gets more casual, there are some who really like to dress up and it's one of the few places its still accepted.</p><p>Plus, I assume they can afford it.</p><p>But what about those like my friend from my childhood? How can a church advertise that you can "come as you are" but then look down on those who do? (Though they might not overtly look down at those who wear jeans, I've seen the looks and I know what at least some are thinking.)</p><p>When I was young and started on this quest, I would hear the argument that "Don't we want to wear our best when we go into God's house?"</p><p>I have sooooo much to say about that, but I'll try to keep it brief.</p><p>#1 - God's house isn't a building. It's a person who has accepted Christ.</p><p>#2 - Why would God, of Whom scripture says that He doesn't look at the outward parts of man, care what we wear?</p><p>#3 - What if "our best" IS nice jeans and a t-shirt? What if "our best" is torn jeans (from age, not fashion) and a scraggly shirt?</p><p>To sum up, I just feel really strongly that continuing to put an emphasis on how one looks when going to church just adds to the idea that it's the outer self that matters. </p><p>That thought is the basis of most stigmas... and church is the one place where it should be different.</p><p><br /></p>harpofworshiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028931505506111677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-53004064261593464002023-07-29T15:29:00.000-05:002023-07-29T15:29:10.161-05:00When Fears are Realized... At Least for Now<p>One of the main fears I have (excluding all of my phobias and the common fears like having a child die or becoming paralyzed, etc) is not having health insurance - or having it be so expensive that I can't afford the copays.</p><p>My husband of almost ten months had said he would never get married before we met - and even the first four years of our relationship. Like me, this wasn't his only fear, but it kept us from taking that next step for a long time. </p><p>He was afraid he wouldn't be able to provide for me.</p><p>Well, it ended up that he got fired from the job he had most of our relationship. He had been at that job for a while but a combination of developing an auto-immune disease that would flare up occasionally, a change of management, and having to work from home due to COVID, his performance went downhill.</p><p>Then add nervousness about the possibility of being fired and he was a wreck - and continued to do worse.</p><p>Even though he had been there 10?, 11? years before this happened, when he finally got the news, he blamed himself. He had been successful all that time but he chalked it up to not trying hard enough.</p><p>But this ended up being a good thing. Kind of like my job loss (explained in another post: https://www.spotlightonstigma.com/2023/02/no-longer-afraid.html), he found another job that paid much, much better.</p><p>Though it's not the only reason he decided to ask me to marry him, I know that factored in.</p><p>As with many couples (or anytime there is more than one person giving an opinion), each of us has a unique perspective on everything. It's easy to assume the other person has the same thoughts and beliefs that you do.</p><p>Remember how I mentioned health insurance being one of my biggest fears? Even though I knew I'd marry him no matter what, his health insurance benefits concerned me.</p><p>He kept telling me that he had great insurance and though he never verbalized it, that I shouldn't worry about it.</p><p>However, when I finally did get the details about the plan, I came close to freaking out. </p><p>Yes, it was a really good policy. Every doctor we wanted to see was covered, the vast majority of prescriptions were covered... all with a pretty low co-pay. </p><p>AFTER we each met the $4000 deductible, that was.</p><p>Maybe you are thinking, "That's normal for insurance plans nowadays," but you need to realize that I'm self-employed - and poor. Keep your politics in check with this... I got a really nice plan from Marketplace. Not only did it have a low co-pay and many of my doctors and prescriptions were covered, the deductible was markedly lower than $4000.</p><p>Still, I was pretty sure that I would have to have rotator cuff surgery on my other shoulder this fall and that would wipe out the deductible mostly by itself, once you factor in the PT I would need.</p><p>So, I went to doctors, therapists, and got tests done like I had before, knowing that it would work out to be not that bad over the course of the year and all I would have done.</p><p>Here's the irony: </p><p>First, let me tell you something that I joked about when I was trying to calm myself down about the $4000 deductible... I actually remember thinking, "What if we lose the insurance as soon as we met that deductible?"</p><p>Back to the irony.</p><p>We did.</p><p>He got fired again, literally a week after meeting the deductible. </p><p>In hindsight, he shouldn't have taken a job that was so similar to the one he had been burned out over, even though it did give him a significantly larger income. I could go into my theories on why this really smart man wasn't hacking it at this job, but I won't.</p><p>I do know that the new job was killing him, stressing him out incredibly. It wasn't worth it.</p><p>In some ways, I'm really glad he got fired because it frees him up to find something that won't be so hard on him. I've had some jobs that I loved and some that I hated, but he and I are alike in that we will almost never leave a job voluntarily, even if it's killing us.</p><p>Every...</p><p>single...</p><p>time...</p><p>it's worked out to be much better (not perfect, but better.)</p><p>But back to the title of this post - fears being realized. </p><p>On getting the news, his biggest fear - that he can't provide for me - has been realized. (Side note - when I'm strong I remind him that the job didn't provide for us, God does.)</p><p>And mine - not having health insurance that I can afford to use - has also been realized. (Side note - we do qualify for Marketplace but between the two of us, though still poor, we aren't as poor as I was alone and the plan has a pretty high deductible for only five months left in the year.)</p><p>In the big picture, though, I know that we'll be okay. Each of us has been through worse - and God has been there the whole time.</p><p>This time of both of us having to face our fears may seem like a coincidence... but God has it all under control.</p><p>...or at least I know He does when I'm strong.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-59787927918050059882023-07-24T05:43:00.001-05:002023-07-24T05:43:02.917-05:00Disappointing Others Due to My Invisible Illnesses... "Should I Stay or Should I Go?"<p>I'm a people pleaser. It's something I've worked for years to overcome... to no avail. I worry way too much about what people think - even from people who I know love me "no matter what."</p><p>This can be a huge issue with my work. I can be so paralyzed with concern about the product - photos or writing - that I'm producing for a client, that sometimes I will edit and edit and edit before I'm done. Or I overthink what I need to do so much that I can't even get started.</p><p>This is something that I think pretty much everyone deals with to some extent at some point in life. </p><p>When you add an invisible illness to the mix, it makes it much worse.</p><p>For example, lately, I've been going back and forth a lot between physical and mental junk (at times both at once). I feel horrible when I have to miss or cancel an event because I know it could disappoint or inconvenience someone else.</p><p>The thing is, I am able to attend some of the time. Out of those times I actually make it to an event, sometimes I get there and feel okay. </p><p>Except for the times I don't...</p><p>Many of those who have invisible illnesses are great actors. They are wonderful covering up the pain physically or emotionally that they are feeling. They are able to attend work, school, and social events like they weren't in pain.</p><p>I'm not. I've even joked that I could never play poker because I can't hide what I'm feeling. I have a very difficult time covering up when I'm in pain or severely depressed or manic. </p><p>Ironically, this trait, though it may be more authentic than acting like everything's okay, causes a lot of problems socially.</p><p>It's one of those "I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't" situations.</p><p>The background: </p><p>Let's say I'm having a fibromyalgia flare-up. I feel bloated and ache all over. It's hard to walk and any joint or muscle pain that I was already living before the episode is increased. </p><p>Or I'm extremely depressed and have a difficult time getting out of bed. The slightest thing going wrong makes me burst into tears. I often describe it as feeling like I'm swimming in molasses.</p><p>The scenario: </p><p>I've been invited to a party with friends I don't get to see very often. I've been looking forward to going for weeks. But then one of the above background issues (or many others I deal with) invades my life.</p><p>The disclaimer: </p><p>Remember that I can't go into a social situation and pretend that I'm not hurting. So I'm always caught in a dilemma: Do I stay or do I go? (as said in the popular song by The Clash)</p><p>The decision: </p><p>If I stay home, I feel guilty. I feel like I should be there, that I'm a disappointment because the expectation was that I would attend and I didn't - and being reliable was one of my strengths before all this stuff came into my life.</p><p>But then sometimes my FOMO (fear of missing out) kicks in and I decide to go.</p><p>If I push through and attend, I feel that I'm a disappointment for bringing the fun atmosphere of the party down. I have actually hidden in another room at parties because once I got there, I couldn't deal with the feeling that those near me can't have a good time - <i>because of me</i>.</p><p>The aftermath:</p><p>No matter which decision I make, I always feel like I should apologize to everyone for being such a disappointment.</p><p>My best friends and some of my family understand. I am learning that it helps to explain these kinds of things at the beginning of any relationship. (Note that I only tell those I feel safe with - not my brand new boss or the casual acquaintance who I know makes fun of others behind their backs.)</p><p>I don't feel quite as much of a disappointment if I told them what's really going on when I don't show up.</p><p>However, there is always someone who doesn't understand - either because I don't know them well enough to tell them or because they didn't believe it, which brings me back to being a people pleaser.</p><p>If I wasn't such a people pleaser, I wouldn't care what those who don't know or don't believe... I would simply go on with the knowledge that I'm doing my personal best given my current circumstances.</p><p>Therapy and a lot of work in this area have helped, but I feel that this is something I'll struggle with my entire life. </p><p>Only when there are enough of us with invisible illnesses - those who are vulnerable enough to reveal what is actually happening when we check out emotionally or physically - will the world start to be a place where we feel supported, no matter whether we decide to stay or to go.</p><p><br /></p>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-50947161754747373402023-07-18T08:18:00.007-05:002023-07-18T08:18:48.736-05:00Reaction to an "I Heart Intelligence" Facebook Post about Choices<p>I rarely scroll through Facebook posts. I have too many things I can get caught up in... I don't need one that also makes me feel bad because it can portray everyone else as having it all together when my life is most definitely not.</p><p>However, today I needed to update some selling I'm doing on Marketplace and I ended up scrolling and reading the top few posts.</p><p>I came across this post from "I Heart Intelligence."</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJDh7VSd5YHpzWHE_kWAl2jQKrh083BdGVhrqWpKTSTSRjWAQvx9B6W-CbqxrQFdld6LpM0matxCvi3IMyfMwWRelvwrzpU5OBX4kHL2DCkGpB9OdcfDLpG_Ry8ssdaJTETElMLwZD04Um3ooYcBipt9ntqEl9TjJDaIHbMyAl4cxUHL_RwfGjZjQEU_B2/s844/359825846_663820769125918_1141843919257446334_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="844" data-original-width="843" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJDh7VSd5YHpzWHE_kWAl2jQKrh083BdGVhrqWpKTSTSRjWAQvx9B6W-CbqxrQFdld6LpM0matxCvi3IMyfMwWRelvwrzpU5OBX4kHL2DCkGpB9OdcfDLpG_Ry8ssdaJTETElMLwZD04Um3ooYcBipt9ntqEl9TjJDaIHbMyAl4cxUHL_RwfGjZjQEU_B2/s320/359825846_663820769125918_1141843919257446334_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>I have loved "I Heart Intelligence" and their posts for years now. I'd never seen one I disagreed with...</p><p>... Until today.</p><p>This was my comment on the post:</p><p>As someone with several mental and physical chronic illnesses, everything is NOT a choice... </p><p>1 - My husband left me. I tried for a year to get him to counseling and tried everything I could to keep our marriage together. He left anyway. </p><p>2 - I'm obese. However, due to many circumstances out of my control, "getting fit" isn't a choice. I can work out, eat less, and do everything "right" but the weight won't come off. And, no, gastric bypass isn't an option for me. </p><p>3 - I lost my job due to politics and found myself quickly in tremendous debt as I waited to see if I would get it back. I had been "financially disciplined" for years as a single mom with little to no child support with only a teacher's salary and had no debt except for my house and car until that time. Losing my job was not a choice. </p><p>Several years later, a financial advisor told me that it would be best to declare bankruptcy. Though I had always worked hard to pay my debts, after thinking and praying about it, I took his advice. It turned out that what most would call being financially irresponsible was one of the best decisions I've made.</p><p>4 - Even what most would take for granted isn't always a choice for me: communication. I have bipolar, type 2. When I'm manic, I can't stop talking. I've tried. I've fought it by literally clenching my jaw. But I still ramble. When I'm severely depressed or in the middle of a panic attack from anxiety, there are times I can't talk at all. I've had to text my boyfriend (now husband) when he was sitting next to me because I couldn't get words out. </p><p>So, no, I can't pick my hard. I can choose to go to therapy, take meds, work out when possible, get my finances back in order as I have the means, work really hard to communicate when I'm not in the middle of the worst of my mental health issues, and continue to try to figure out ways to have the best attitude possible when I don't have choices. </p><p>Personally, I feel like most people can't pick their hard. Sometimes life deals a bad hand - or many bad hands - and the only real choice it comes down to is continuing to fight or giving up completely.</p><p>This kind of post simply perpetuates the stigma of these and many other similar places we can find ourselves in. What happens to us isn't always a choice.</p><p>So, once again, I personally advise going to the Serenity Prayer...</p><p>"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."</p><p>And please, please, please do make the choice to keep fighting.</p>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-51671111816855363582023-07-03T15:45:00.021-05:002023-08-24T10:46:28.555-05:00Highs and Lows... and Expectations, Part 3 - It Is What It Is<p>Sometimes life throws a curve ball... and you're rooting for the infield team.</p><p>Tonight is one of those times. </p><p>There are so many highs and lows in life. Even in the highs, there are lows. Even in the lows, there are highs.</p><p>My first post in this series was about a pretty high day - the day we were media as well as VIPs at an Indycar race. However, even though that day was one of my top lately, there were a lot of lows included.</p><p>It was hot. I wasn't having a good day physically. There were times I felt stuck at the media center, far away from all of the action. It was an incredibly long day. Etc... Etc... Etc...</p><p>My last post was about what I thought would be a really low day - or a few days. But I'll save the details for that post.</p><p>However, a totally unexpected high was sent my way - and I wanted to note it in here.</p><p>Yesterday, on the way home from another Indycar race (the "low" I wrote about), my husband/photography partner and I were talking about how exhausting the weekend had been. </p><p>Originally, we had planned to make the 10+ hour-long drive home starting tomorrow morning. We talked about possibilities of activities we could do during the day today and nothing sounded better than simply being home. </p><p>Then, I happened to check my email and saw something that literally made my jaw drop. I had to look at it several times to believe it. </p><p>It was an email that said Travis and I had been approved for press credentials for a Cleveland Guardians (formerly Cleveland Indians) game!</p><p>Baseball is Travis' love language (with Indycar a close second). His favorite team, by far, is the team from the state where he was born.</p><p>From the time he picked up photography, one of his absolute biggest dreams was to shoot a game at their home field.</p><p>In the meantime, he moved to Florida, then to Alabama. Visiting his native state happened less and less often and he rarely got to go to see a game live, much less getting to shoot it.</p><p>Well, when I started researching how to get credentials for an MLB game, all I found at first is that it's almost impossible to do. I would research for a few hours - then give up. Then I would decide to try again later - and eventually give up. This happened off and on for a couple of months.</p><p>Then my work paid off - and I was entered into the MLB credentialing system! That was amazing enough... and though I almost immediately requested credentials for the game that corresponded to when we would already be in Ohio, I really thought it would end there.</p><p>I kept up a tiny bit of hope until two days ago. By that point, I assumed that it was too late and that we hadn't gotten in. I even took the game off my calendar and archived my research notes.</p><p>So it was a total shock when I saw the email that we were in. My cheeks literally hurt from smiling and Travis was physically stunned. </p><p>This was a definite high. </p><p>However, I never take anything at face value. I just about always assume the worst. And the worst was yet to come. </p><p>The approval email mentioned an email for questions if needed. So I did.</p><p>And then...</p><p>Then...</p><p>I got a reply that called into question whether or not we would actually get in - at least the way I read it the first time.</p><p>I know it seems dramatic, but I almost panicked. This was such a big dream of Travis' and I was nervous that the disappointment would really affect him.</p><p>I replied with a carefully worded response - and held my breath while I waited for a reply. </p><p>It was one of those good-news/bad-news replies. </p><p>Yes, we were still in. In fact, we had press box access (which is what I like the best).</p><p>However, all of the areas for field-level photography were filled. Travis wouldn't get to shoot the game after all. </p><p>We were told that we could shoot at the concourse level, which is about 25 rows back and maybe 10-15 ft high from the field. That's still a lot more than fans get to do since we can bring our professional cameras there, but it's not what Travis had hoped for.</p><p>So... now we're here at Progressive Field, looking out of the press box (4th floor - an amazing view), waiting for the fans to be let in and for the game to start.</p><p>Is this all we wanted out of this night? Nope. Are we still very glad we're here? H*ll, yeah. </p><p>We get to see things that very few of even the most devoted fans get to see. We get to watch a game live without having to pay for tickets (though the parking expense almost made up for it). We get to say that we did it... got credentialed for an MLB game.</p><p>Sometimes it's all about perspective. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-43526264027827923812023-07-02T19:30:00.000-05:002023-08-24T10:46:51.654-05:00Highs and Lows... and Expectations, Part 2 - The Lows<p>So... My husband and photography partner, Travis, and I had a blast at the 2023 Indycar race at Barber Motorsports Park in Birmingham, AL (as I shared in https://www.blogger.com/u/1/blog/post/edit/729122040431351468/8161189219424744427).</p><p>We just <i>knew </i>that the upcoming Indycar race that we were going to get to shoot would be a million times better.</p><p>You see, my husband is a huge Indycar fan. He fell in love with racing at the track closest to his childhood home in Ohio. </p><p>After picking up photography, it was a big dream of his to shoot an Indycar race - and an even bigger dream to do so as a credentialed media photographer at his home course. </p><p>This summer it happened. We got the opportunity to shoot for the same driver as we did earlier in the season. We were not only going to get to be credentialed media, get VIP passes so we could hang out with him and his team, AND do it at my husband's home track.</p><p>We planned to leave for Ohio on a Thursday. That week was completely insane.</p><p>- I had been looking for a new car-to-me car for about a month - and I found a couple of great prospects the weekend before. Because there were two that were really great deals, I didn't want to wait until I got back in town to buy, so car testing and car buying had to be included in the schedule.</p><p>- I've had back problems lately, pretty extensive ones, and they had flared up incredibly over the prior week. </p><p>- I had several work assignments come up at the last minute - and I was um, slightly overwhelmed (think in sarcasm mode here) to make sure everything was done before leaving.</p><p>- I finally had gotten around to consolidating our family's phone plans - and there were issues I had to take care of.</p><p>- To drive the new car, I had to switch everything over from my car to the new one (and I have a lot of stuff in my car that needed to be sorted through in order to find new homes for it all).</p><p>- My husband had a flare-up of his Still's Disease as well as having a really rough time at work the couple of days before we needed to leave.</p><p>- Etc. Etc. Etc.</p><p>By Wednesday afternoon, my anxiety was through the roof. At that point, I was actually trying to decide if it was worth it for me to go.</p><p>If you've read through my blog much at all, you know that I have pretty major anxiety issues. The unknown is hard on almost anyone... but it can paralyze me. </p><p>There were an incredible amount of unknowns with this trip. I won't get into them all, but some were very anxiety-producing. Add to that, I couldn't find out the info I needed to know to reduce the fear.</p><p>In addition, the weather was supposed to be horrible. Because this shoot was more for my husband than for me, I knew I wouldn't shoot if the weather was bad - in this case, it simply wasn't worth it.</p><p>I didn't want to attend the Mid-Ohio race and sit in the photographer's room the whole weekend.</p><p>However, I finally did decide to go. I made a list of pros and cons and saw that even though there were a great number of cons, an adventure with my husband overrode them all. Even if it was a horrible trip, he was more important.</p><p>Though many of my worst fears didn't happen, it wasn't an easy trip by any means. We're glad we went but it was a big disappointment compared to what we had thought it would be.</p><p>That is... until we got an unexpected email right after we decided to cut the trip short. (See part 3 for the conclusion).</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-81611892194247444272023-06-30T11:03:00.009-05:002023-07-03T17:50:14.763-05:00Highs and Lows... and Expectations, Part 1 - The Highs<p>It seems like lately the only time I have to blog is when I'm at a shoot - and have downtime between sessions. So, here I am, at an Indycar race in Lexington, Ohio at the Mid-Ohio course, finally getting a chance to blog. </p><p>Being in media has some really high highs - and some really low lows. I guess that's really like most jobs, though. </p><p>It seems like everything was thrown at me this past week - so much so that I seriously considered not coming.</p><p>However, this is one of the biggest dreams that my husband has had. He grew up really close to this track and this is where he fell in love with Indycar racing. </p><p>Once he picked up photography, he had one of those dreams that's so big that you can't even really dream it - it's just an underlying, very, very small nudge that it would be wonderful if it ever happened.</p><p>His dream was to shoot an Indycar race as a credentialed photographer. In fact, the hope that he could shoot a race at Mid-Ohio was barely a flicker of a dream. Then this year, when I was once again looking at ways we might be able to do it, an unexpected way fell in my lap.</p><p>Two years ago, I interviewed an Indycar chaplain. I can't remember if I asked him or if he just told me about this up-and-coming racer named Sting Ray Robb. I made a note to contact him in the off-season and hopefully be able to set up an interview the next year.</p><p>We were able to set up that interview as hoped. One aspect of the process stuck in my memory, even as I wrote and submitted that article and started filling my head with all of the information from other interviews, shoots, and jobs I work as a freelancer. </p><p>He calls his mom his "momager." It's exactly like it sounds - she's his mom as well as his manager (at least she was as he rose through the various racing levels).</p><p>I hit it off with his mom while setting up the interview and doing the follow-up stuff I do as a writer. It was one of those times that it was like we were friends, though we had barely talked.</p><p>It may sound wild to admit this, but I even invited her to my virtual wedding.</p><p>Finally, the 2023 Indycar season loomed. Sting Ray had placed 2nd in his class for the IndyLights level in 2022 and got a spot on an Indy team for 2023.</p><p>I was so excited for him - and for his momager.</p><p>So, when it became time to start applying for credentials for the season, I asked her if she knew of any other Christian racers that she thought I might be able to cover. </p><p>She said she didn't know of anyone, but that she had media passes available for this race that we could have. Unbelievable!</p><p>Our local track, Barber Motorsports Park, held its Indycar race before this one. We had shot there twice before at this point, so we knew what to expect. After we got settled, we left the media center to go and say hey to Sting Ray and his momager.</p><p>She surprised us by giving us VIP passes to their tent by their hauler. It was amazing! We were able to hang out and talk - and I got to shoot a lot of photos I wouldn't have been able to otherwise.</p><p>We were on a super high. It was so much fun!</p><p>I just <i>knew </i>that the Mid-Ohio race would be so much better...</p><p>(This is getting really long and I need to get some actual shooting done here, so I'll work on Part 2 as I can. Stay tuned.)</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-37254426145608554332023-06-05T16:35:00.298-05:002023-09-24T07:19:30.318-05:00Covering the K-Love Fan Awards Weekend, Part 2 - The Event<p>I couldn't believe that the weekend had finally arrived.</p><p>It started off being very nerve-racking. My husband didn't get off work until noon on the day we needed to leave so it was going to be tight to get there in time to get our credentials at best. </p><p>Then, of course, things happened... having last minute, unplanned things we had to do before leaving and really bad traffic - worse than we had planned for.</p><p>On the way, we discussed what we needed to do first when we got into town. We had planned to go to check-in where we were staying first, then go to the venue (the Opryland Convention Center) to get our media passes, with a quick stop at one of the book signings on the way to getting our credentials.</p><p>Since we were delayed, we skipped the hotel and almost ran into the venue to get our media passes, realizing quickly that we couldn't find where to pick them up using the description that had been emailed to us. </p><p>As the clock ticked... and my heart beat... faster and louder and louder and faster... we kept asking workers (who had no idea) and trying to figure out where we needed to go.</p><p>Arriving just before the deadline, we finally got our passes. What a relief it was!</p><p>It didn't end there, though. There were several book signings throughout the afternoon. Though in a perfect world, I would have loved to get every one of them, there was only one I really, really wanted - Matthew West's.</p><p>Our plan had been to get there in time to get his signature and then pick up our credentials. </p><p>Since we were so late and it took a while to get our credentials, the line was looooong to get to him. </p><p>I was upset, but what could I do? We decided that instead of waiting in line, we would skip trying to have him sign one of his books for us. (We did, however, get some pictures of him signing books.) </p><p>By this time, we also knew that there wasn't time for us to check in where we were staying so we decided we would just check in after the first concert that evening.</p><p>The Friday night concert was a blast! The headliner was TobyMac and he always puts on a good show. Terrian (one of his backup singers who is also doing solo work) sang and man, does she have an amazing voice.</p><p>The night was rounded out with Blessing Offor, who was powerful; Colton Dixon, who was fun; and Katy Nichole, who was just all-around amazing.</p><p>Saturday was a day packed with concerts. In the morning, there was a "Worship in the Round" concert with Brandon Lake, David Leonard, Jon Reddick, Josh Baldwin, and Tasha Layton. </p><p>The "Emerging Artists Showcase" consisted of an acoustic set with Ben Fuller, Cody Carnes, Dan Bremnes, Rachael Lampa, and Consumed by Fire and was hosted by Brandon Heath. It was laid back and included some amazing vocals.</p><p>The evening had another acoustic set with the "Songwriters Showcase." This set was a blast. Hosted by Steven Curtis Chapman, it included Anne Wilson, Cochran & Co, Lauren Daigle, Mercy Me, and Matthew West.</p><p>It would be hard to choose, but I feel like this last set was my favorite. Matthew and Steven cut up like crazy; Matthew sang an acoustic version of "Truth Be Told" (one of my all-time favorites); and all of the songwriters told backstories of their songs.</p><p>Sunday morning there was a church service with worship being led by Chris Tomlin. Between my physical and mental health issues, I came into the weekend knowing that I couldn't do it all - and this was what we chose to skip. I knew there was no way I would make it through the main events if I didn't take that time off.</p><p>Finally... it was time for the Red Carpet - the original event we had been invited to shoot. </p><p>We had to find where it was held (the map was confusing) and from that point, it was just a lot of chaos, but the good kind. It was the controlled chaos of setting up cameras and lights and backdrops and making sure the bike racks were in the right place to keep the fans where they should be and making sure every person knew their roles...</p><p>It was the kind of chaos I love.</p><p>It was so much fun seeing the excitement in the fans' eyes, of seeing the talent interact with them and during camera interviews, of watching how a production like this is run...</p><p>But the real fun was being a part of the team - and being treated as a "real" photographer. Travis and I both still deal with a lot of the feelings of imposter syndrome. To be treated as an equal to the other photographers was a huge boost. For example, we were asked if the backdrop for the Red Carpet photos was okay. I spoke up and said that more light is always better. </p><p>And they listened and brought up the light! Whoa...</p><p>I took photos of the talent as expected but I also walked around and took behind-the-scenes photos, which was an absolute blast.</p><p>After the long wait, the actual Red Carpet event was over pretty quickly and we headed to the main event - the actual awards ceremony.</p><p>They only had one photographer (or one team) shoot the actual awards, but we were given the opportunity to do something much more exciting - we got to be in the press conferences that the talent would come to after winning or performing. </p><p>We had to walk all the way around the Grand Ole Opry to the back where the talent's entrance was. After walking past the many, many, many dressing rooms, we finally ended up in a huge studio where the press conferences would be held. </p><p>With this being our first time there, we had to figure out where to sit and what to do. They didn't have name plates at the seats so we chose where we thought would be best and started setting up - Travis putting together his camera and working on his settings and me pulling out my laptop, finding power, connecting to wifi, getting out my voice recorder, etc - having already decided that Travis would shoot and I would take notes.</p><p>After the first performer's press conference, I quickly sprung into action. I decided I wanted to participate - to join the others in asking questions. </p><p>I'm so thankful that we had covered NASCAR the month before. It was the first time I had been brave enough to ask a question during a press conference. Because that experience went well, I knew I could do it again.</p><p>There is one thing I'll do very differently if I'm ever able to do this again - I wish I had researched the talent and had written up some great questions before that night. As it was, I spent every minute of the breaks between the press conferences frantically trying to come up with good questions that directly related to each interviewee.</p><p>Something that still amazes me is that I had several people, including some of the talent, tell me afterward that I had some great questions. It gave me a major boost of confidence so that now I actually look forward to asking questions in other press conferences I might find myself in.</p><p>One of my concerns had been if there would be food as it started in the early afternoon and wouldn't be finished until late that night. We were told there would be basically glorified snacks but we were pleasantly surprised that it was much better than advertised. It consisted of finger foods but they tasted great, sandwiches from a local deli, elaborate veggie trays, snack-sized bags of chips, crackers, etc. </p><p>It was more than enough to keep us going throughout the long evening.</p><p>Finally, it was over. We packed up and headed back to the car.</p><p>However, we didn't realize that the fun would continue. Walking back through the dressing room area was a hoot as all the talent were packing up and leaving. </p><p>Many of the doors of the dressing rooms were open and so we got to see that they were themed after country music legends. I snuck some photos as we walked but didn't want to seem like too much of a sightseer so I didn't take many.</p><p>Then, because our car was parked pretty far away, I waited at the talent's entrance for my husband to go and get the car. This was where I got two compliments from talent about my questions and I got to show one of the performers some cool shots I had taken of him. </p><p>It was definitely a weekend I'll never forget - and I really, really hope that we get to do it again next year (where I'll know what I'm doing and can really knock it out of the park!)</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>harpofworshiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028931505506111677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-13113926582162658692023-06-01T08:16:00.003-05:002023-09-21T17:06:22.901-05:00Covering the K-Love Fan Awards Weekend, Part 1 - Background<p>There have been so many things that have happened in the past year that are so big I couldn't even dream that high. This one was especially amazing, mostly because of a part of my past I've almost forgotten about.</p><p>I grew up around music. My brothers, who are nine and ten years older than me, started a garage band in their early teens. I started piano lessons when I was around six or seven. My mom always sang in the church choir and I sang in both church and school choirs from a young age.</p><p>As a teenager, maybe 14 or 15 years old, I picked up a guitar. My brother gave me his old 12-string. (Fun fact... DON'T learn how to tune a guitar on a 12-string. It will scar you for life.) He showed me some simple chords, taught me a few ear-training basics, and let me go. </p><p>I never heard of anyone taking guitar lessons back then. I know it was done, but since guitar was an "easy" instrument, I learned how to play on my own. I had a book of chord fingerings and that was it. Remember that this was before the age of computers so online classes weren't even something one imagined.</p><p>However, I practiced and practiced and practiced. Once I got some basic skills down, I started writing songs. (Note that I later showed some to a professional songwriter and he said they were pretty good. But for various reasons, I didn't pursue that idea.)</p><p>I was also super-religious during this time. Contemporary Christian music was in its early stages and I would set an alarm in order to listen to the few hours of this new style of gospel music that would only hit the airwaves on Saturday nights.</p><p>Needless to say, I was obsessed. I went to every Contemporary Christian concert I could afford and even met some of the band members in my favorite band. I dreamed of one day playing in a band or being a solo act. In fact, I had someone tell me once that I was going to be the new Amy Grant.</p><p>Not much later, I took my obsession on a different route - behind the scenes. I learned how to run sound, ran it for church and a few bands, and even took some classes in college, planning to go into sound engineering as a career. </p><p>However, I got older and my dreams of going on the road with a band faded. I did spend a couple of years as a professional audio engineer at a TV station before leaving to go back to college full-time.</p><p>As the years passed, I would still play guitar or keyboard or run sound at churches I went to through the years, but I dropped the idea of doing it professionally.</p><p>I still loved the music, though.</p><p>Imagine my complete surprise when in late March 2023, one of my contacts who pitches me interview possibilities in the Christian music field emailed me something unusual. It was an invitation for Novel Photos to shoot the Red Carpet event for the K-Love Fan Awards.</p><p>I dared to hope... was this actually being sent to me? Was it a mistake? After a quick check online for a little research about the event and after checking my calendar, I replied that my husband/photography partner and I would love to. </p><p>I had also boldly taken a chance and asked if we could shoot any of the concerts throughout the weekend prior to the awards. </p><p>It only took about a week to hear back (though it felt like a year). The concerts were already covered but we got a green light to shoot the Red Carpet event before and media room appearances during the awards.</p><p>Even though we didn't get the full weekend, my husband and I were still hyped and started making arrangements.</p><p>Then, about a week ago, after we had already made lodging reservations and my husband had taken off work for the day after the awards, we got another surprise email. We had been approved to shoot the full weekend!</p><p>We had to scramble to make arrangements for the addition to our trip, but loved every minute of it.</p><p>(Part 2 coming soon.)</p><p><br /></p>harpofworshiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028931505506111677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-29799854460740618342023-05-25T11:46:00.000-05:002023-09-05T08:55:48.939-05:00Pain that Interferes with Everyday LifeI haven't had a day without pain in so long that I can't remember it... My guess being at least a decade, probably more. <div><br /></div><div>Since I was young, I was very sensitive. You probably thought when you saw the word "sensitive," you thought I meant emotionally. </div><div><br /></div><div>Actually, you were right. I was incredibly sensitive emotionally. But what I'm talking about here is that I was sensitive to sound, texture, temperature - and, the reason for this post, pain. </div><div><br /></div><div>However, it's difficult for me to express that I'm hurting. When I do tell others that I'm in pain, it's always accompanied by an apology (because my pain causes limitations that cause problems with being able to "go and do" as I'd like and usually my pain is also limiting the person I'm with.) </div><div><br /></div><div>To the best of my memory, I was told or it was implied from what was said, that I needed to get over any pain I had, with sickness being an exception.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know how much that attitude in my family caused this issue or if it was a societal thing (probably both), but it was earlier this week that I correlated the two aspects. </div><div><br /></div><div>This week has also been much worse on the pain scale. But what's weird and frustrating is that it comes and goes. My overall pain (due to fibromyalgia) as well as localized pain in my right ankle, right shoulder, both wrists and leg pain (all due to either surgeries or injuries) haven't abated. </div><div><br /></div><div>So as much as a person can be, I'm used to the pain I just mentioned. </div><div><br /></div><div>What I'm not used to is the back pain I'm now having. Understand that I have backaches a lot.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm overweight, tend to slump too much, and don't have much core strength. Pain in my back, especially my lower back, is inevitable. </div><div><br /></div><div>But this is different - and another frustrating aspect is that it comes and goes. In fact, I had to go to my primary doctor a few days ago about something completely unrelated. I planned to also mention my back pain and see what they recommended as a starting point. </div><div><br /></div><div>However, that day my back felt fine. Grrrrrrr. </div><div><br /></div><div>Today that's not the case. Today every step causes a sharp, shooting pain - and sitting isn't a lot better. </div><div><br /></div><div>The ironic thing is that not long after all this started, my insurance company offered a special program for those with back pain. For various reasons, I kept putting off trying it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then, one day about 2 weeks ago, I took the plunge. </div><div><br /></div><div>The first session was simply to get baseline measurements of range of motion, etc. I did fine afterward and was excited about the next session. </div><div><br /></div><div>My schedule got in the way for doing it on their timeline, which was about 3 times a week. I got in another session 4 days later. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mistake! </div><div><br /></div><div>The back pain I had already been dealing with got much worse. I hoped that time and rest would help it heal so I could work on the program again. </div><div><br /></div><div>This past Wednesday, when I went to my primary care doctor, I thought my plan was working since it was feeling so much better. </div><div><br /></div><div>As it seems to happen, believe it or not, Thursday it started getting worse again. I could kick myself that I didn't tell the doctor at that appointment. </div><div><br /></div><div>So... it's a few weeks later. I'm about to head out of town for an insanely fun and big-name shoot... shooting the Fan Weekend and the K-Love Awards' Red Carpet event. I don't get to shoot the actual awards show but will get to be in the press room to be part of interviewing the various award winners.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm terrified of how I'll make it this weekend. Surely I'll figure out something.</div><div><br /></div><div>Quick update a week later. At almost the last minute I remembered something I could try - a steroid shot. My doctor was amazing and got me in before I left to go out of town. It truly made a difference during the weekend.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's worn off now and I'm back (no pun intended) to where I was when I wrote this. But at least I made it through that weekend. Somehow, I know I can make it through upcoming events (even if it means another steroid shot!)</div>harpofworshiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028931505506111677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-83432501555052192922023-05-14T14:04:00.003-05:002023-08-24T11:58:32.658-05:00Cussing vs the Anger Behind It - What's Actually Sin?<p>If you read my posts regularly, you know that I question everything and usually think outside of the box. This is a trait I've had as long as I can remember. </p><p>This has led to many pet peeves and soapbox issues. </p><p>One is about cussing. </p><p>(Get ready... I'm now stepping on my soapbox and it will include some of the words I'm writing about.)</p><p>I believe that it's the attitude, not the word, that's important. "Bad words" are a product of society, not something that is inherently wrong. </p><p>And I get SO TIRED of Christians apologizing when they cuss or judging others when they do. </p><p>Maybe I missed the verse in the Bible that says, "Thou shalt not say shit, damn, or fuck or I won't love you and you won't be mine." </p><p>I feel there's nothing different between saying "crap" when you stub your toe and saying "shit" after the same action. After all, don't they essentially mean the same thing?</p><p>And how can you generalize certain words in a language? What if an American Christian says "bloody hell?" Do you automatically think they need to repent? If you were in Britain, you might.</p><p>I do personally draw the line with including God or Jesus in cussing - or if you make it personal to someone else.</p><p>For example: "Damn you to hell" or simply "damn you" or even worse, "God damn" directed towards a person is not the same as only saying "damn." </p><p>Yelling "Jesus" when a car jumps in front of you (unless you are just yelling an incredibly short prayer for help and safety), is not the same as yelling it when you are mad that your spouse didn't wash the dishes.</p><p>I'm not a Bible scholar but I have a feeling those would be instances of "taking the Lord's name in vain." Other random cuss words don't qualify under that commandment.</p><p>One more thing before I stop. I want to share one realization I recently made about this idea that upsets me more than what I've already talked about.</p><p><b>Christians who worry so much about hearing cuss words actually separate themselves from non-Christians.</b></p><p>I guess if you believe that it's wrong to go into a bar because there's drinking alcohol happening there or into a casino because people are gambling, then this argument will make no sense.</p><p>But if you believe that we are actually supposed to model what Jesus said and did, remember that He regularly hung out with "sinners" - those who do the things that Christians tend to judge the most harshly. There is nothing in me that believes that He would stay out of a bar or casino if He thought someone there needed Him.</p><p>So, being "holier-than-thou" and not associating with people who cuss or saying that someone must not be a Christian because they cuss (and just who do you think you are to judge what has gone on in someone else's heart?!!!) keeps people from wanting to come to Christ.</p><p>Now, if you feel a personal conviction not to cuss, then don't. </p><p>But, at the same time, don't tell others to stop if they cuss. For some, cussing is part of everyday language in their family, in their world. IT DOES NOT mean they are less of a person, less of a Christian.</p><p>If you believe John 3:16 - For God so loved THE WORLD..." then get off your high horse and start caring more about who a person is and what a person needs and not what they do.</p><p>(Getting off my soap-box now. Have a great rest of your day.)</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>harpofworshiphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028931505506111677noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-729122040431351468.post-21571953124744079472023-04-16T18:09:00.000-05:002023-04-16T18:09:27.127-05:00No Longer Afraid, Part 3b: The Amazing Things that Happened After the "Years from Hell"<p>So that I won't bore you with another long story, I'm just going to list as many of the things that I have experienced and learned during the time after "the incident." (not necessarily in chronological order or order of importance... I'm just writing as I remember them.)</p><p>Note: If you didn't read Part 3a of this series, go back and find it first.</p><p>- Started back learning sign language, something I had tried to learn most of my life and had given up on a couple of years before the incident, after finding out that Travis also had started classes a couple of years before we met. We now go to a deaf church and I regularly "sing" (sign) songs during our church services.</p><p>- After deciding to become a "none" (someone who has completely given up on organized religion), God led me to a church where I'm accepted as I am, and where I can practice sign as I am part of a deaf ministry within a hearing church - best of both worlds!</p><p>- Learned a LOT of patience through living with my parents and after about 5 years of doing so out of need and obligation, I recognized that I <i>wanted </i>to live with them, even if I had the finances to move out.</p><p>- My daughter and I lived near the Smoky Mountains and the second house we looked at here had a few of the hills (small mountains?) out of what would be her window. There was also a porch roof that she could go out on from her room to sit and think.</p><p>- Because of leaving Tennessee, my daughter didn't get to spend her senior year at her high school - and her beloved color guard. As a "guard mom," I was also sad about that chapter of her life being over. We knew that any colleges she could go to would have an extremely strenuous color guard program - and due to health reasons, we were sure that wouldn't be possible. She ended up going to a small, private college, with a tiny color guard who worried more about fun than about perfect routines. That was the last year they had a color guard - and it gave her one more year to do it before saying goodbye.</p><p>- Since I was a teenager, I've loved photography. In fact, I thought about doing that for a living for a while. But I was scared. I simply wasn't brave enough to take that kind of chance with my financial future. However, when I had to move back in with my parents, they encouraged me to try. It's another miracle and you can read it here: https://www.spotlightonstigma.com/2023/02/my-your-voice-editorial.html </p><p>Because of this happening, I have photographed The World Games, Darci Lynne, pro-IndyCar racing, semi-pro G-league basketball, pro motorcycle racing, semi-pro AFL soccer, semi-pro AAA baseball, Winter Jam, TobyMac, college gymnastics, fancy galas, 5K races, Arangetrams (Indian dance recitals), several local dance schools' recitals, concerts, ventriloquists, comedians... the list goes on and on. I've won awards for my photography and was the featured photographer for a while for a local magazine.</p><p>In fact, I wrote the beginning part of this post while waiting for a semi-pro basketball game to start - and I'm going to photograph it. I'm finishing this post during the first quarter of a USFL professional football game, up in the writers' room. I'm planning to photograph it starting at halftime. </p><p>This upcoming weekend my husband and I are shooting Nascar at Talladega, which is a really difficult event to get credentials. The weekend after that will be our 3rd time shooting Indycar at Barber here in Birmingham. Then in May, we'll be shooting MotoAmerica, a high-level motorcycle race weekend and later in the summer, we'll shoot Indycar again at Mid-Ohio, Travis' favorite track.</p><p>Memorial Day weekend, we've been asked to shoot KLove Fan Awards Red Carpet before the awards then we'll be in their media room during the show.</p><p>This stuff continues to blow me away.</p><p>- I started reading at 2 years old. I have no idea how early it was, but writing at least one book has been one of those dreams that was so far-fetched, I could barely dream it. </p><p>Well, the book hasn't happened... yet. But I've had somewhere between 150-200 articles published in various magazines and newspapers. I won a national award - beating out many who had trained and/or gone to school for journalism and had done it for years.</p><p>I have interviewed world-class athletes, popular comedians, many Christian performers, authors (including Francine Rivers - one of my absolute favorite authors), big-time movie producers and directors, social media influencers, and many, many "regular people" who were doing amazing things.</p><p>- I have worked with two amazing therapists and have progressed so much more than I have ever could have imagined. The second one does EMDR, which is a way to reprocess traumatic memories. I have finally been able to get past some of the horrible memories that I have experienced with her help.</p><p>- The endless mystery of my health (mental and physical) has had some small parts solved. I have gotten some new diagnoses that explain a lot of my symptoms. Even though I haven't found any cures, it still helps to know what's wrong.</p><p>- I also have realized I'm an addict. I'm thankful that this area has a wonderful 12-Step program for my particular addiction and I have learned much, much more than simply how to stay "sober." </p><p>- I've gotten to help my parents and I've probably literally saved my mom's life more than once, as sometimes my dad isn't doing that well and can't always help her when there's a crisis. </p><p>- Becoming fluent in sign language has been another dream I've had since I was a child - probably 8 or 9 years old. In my 40s, I gave up that dream as I've tried and tried to take classes or learn on my own and because I had no one to practice with, I never got that far.</p><p>Not only have a found free classes locally, but I have also found a group of very dear, deaf friends. I have gone to a deaf church for about 3 years now and, even though I'm not close to what I would consider fluent, I'm definitely further along than earlier. </p><p>I feel that with another year of learning and I'll be able to hold a conversation without issue. Another year after that and I'm hoping to become a licensed ASL interpreter.</p><p>- Best of all, after a divorce I thought would never happen to me, raising a daughter by myself, and being single for about 20 years, I met and married Travis, an amazing man who, without question, is better than I could have ever imagined.</p><p>There are a lot of other things that have happened because of one of the worst times of my life, but I want to get this published. As I sit here, looking out over the Protective Stadium from the top floor of Protective Stadium, I'm just so blown away there is no good way to describe it. </p><p>From those days I was afraid to go outside or answer the phone because of who I might run into to being able to do all this... I'm just really thankful. </p>Tracyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16317854591617764398noreply@blogger.com0