Blissdom 2012: Making friends and playing nice.

The first step of any introduction is always the hardest. Ok, well maybe that’s not always true because I have had some stellar awkward moments after the, “Hello, my name is Alia…,” but usually it’s true.

To avoid awkward moments in my middle school years, and ok, I admit it, even more recently than that, I appear distracted. This is the key to not seeming alone in an unfamiliar group or club. I would be searching my backpack for something, eyebrows knit in earnest concentration, while I rummaged about avoiding eye contact with those around me. Or I’d pretend to be working on something or make it seem like I was in a hurry and dash off to avoid being left out.

As you may have noticed from past posts, I have a thing (I’m working on it) about being needy or asking for help. It’s an issue.

But when you’re an 11-year-old girl wanting to belong, walking up and introducing yourself is pretty much the same as saying, “Please don’t reject me.”  And since I wasn’t open to being rejected, I was busy, or pretending to be.

Vulnerability is hard and you’re always a bit exposed when you are meeting someone new, even as an adult. One woman had told of a blog conference she went to where she went up, introduced herself and offered her business card to which the other bigger blogger replied, “no, thank you. ” AWKWARD. But then, I thought about that. And the truth is, if someone is like that, I don’t want to know them anyway. They don’t deserve to read my blog and I certainly don’t want to have anything to do with theirs no matter how great they can write or design. Kindness goes a long way in my book. 

Blissdom

So, when I was preparing for Blissdom, I addressed these thoughts in my mind and I came to a very freeing conclusion. I’m not that 11-year-old girl anymore. I grew up beyond the mean girls and the cliques and the quest for inclusion. I have a fabulous husband, wonderful kids, grace from God for all my mess and a passion as a writer to meet and connect with others. And it was from that encouraged, loved on place that I arrived at Blissdom.

And I thank God for that clarity of thought and vision before I left because I noticed when people looked busy. Although, instead of searching into their Guess backpack, they were texting into their phone, or wandering around doing the half mouth smile but never really engaging with anyone or staring at the hotel map, for a reeeeeaaaally long time.

And I knew, because that used to be me.

It only takes one person to say hi, and take an interest in you to  make you feel you belong. And I was glad to be that person. Maybe it made the beginning a bit less awkward for someone.  I saw several people who were so nervous, completely having the time of their lives by the second day. And the thing that was great about Blissdom was that I wasn’t the only one introducing myself to people who didn’t seem to know anyone.  Most people were genuinely friendly and inviting.

I am not one for big crowds, and small talk with hundreds of people is beyond exhausting, but I already know I’m an introvert and I need alone time to function well and play nice. I took regular breaks and wandered around by myself or went to my room to sit and breathe and drink a coffee in between the sessions. I excused myself from the night events obscenely early and was in bed on granny time but it gave me enough solitude that the times I did meet other bloggers were exciting, not exhausting.

I also got to hear some dynamic speakers in their field. I attended two MeRaKoh Photography sessions and the woman is amazing as is her spectacular work. Who knew I would cry during a photography session so much?

I went to Jeff GoinsMichael Hyatt, and my friend Tsh Oxenreider’s sessions on writing and developing a life plan and they all left me with things to ponder and add, and even a few things to disagree with. As is right in line with my feisty old self. 

But I still think my favorite was the keynote by Jon Acuff of Stuff Christians Like, and not just because he gave us all a signed copy of his new book, Quitter. He had me laughing, prioritizing my family and blogging,  and thinking about the platform and responsibility I have with my voice.

And even though the sessions were really good and I learned a lot from them and the community leaders, I still think my favorite thing about Blissdom was the relationships. I just met the most amazing gals. These women made my time at Blissdom really special with great conversation, a familiar face in the hall or at a table, or a super warm greeting. 

Lorax Party

Fun at the Lorax Party

That kind of felt like an Oscar speech and I’m sure to have missed someone because there were countless other women I met, ate with, sat by, and traded cards with that I’m looking forward to getting to know online this year that I didn’t get to mention here. 

Either way, the whole experience inspired and motivated, challenged and reassured me, to pursue what I love to do… This. Writing. Stuff.

So a huge heartfelt thanks to  all you wonderful people I met, but especially to  all my faithful readers,  commenters, and cheerer onners (is so a word, trust me, I’m a writer) that make this such a blessing to do.

 

 

Blissdom: My first blogging conference

I am leaving to go to a women’s blogging conference today. Blissdom will commence Thursday, after 700 women of all different backgrounds, writing styles, blog niches, and outfits converge on Nashville,Tennessee. The twitter boards are alive and jumping with nervous anticipation and excitement. And fear. So much fear.

Many of the women in my #Blissdomnewbies group have never been to a conference like this. Some, like me, haven’t been blogging for long at all and are still learning everything. Some have done it for years, and some have many years behind them but are just now starting to desire more from the blogging experience. A lot of us don’t know another soul. I’m lucky enough to have a bloggy friend I’ve made this year who will be there and that has given me some assurance that I’m not completely alone in a brand new city amidst a sea of women tweeting into their iPhones. 

Watching these twitter  boards and the conversations that flow out of them I’ve noticed a few things, and boy, do I relate!

1. Women really do want to belong.

We want to have community, we want to be one of the girls. Even the introverts (like me) want to make connections with other people who get us. Who understand that we  live to write. It’s a part of me that God has created and I as I am trusting Him, I’m feeling his pleasure. It’s so important for all of us to feel connected to each other both in what we are passionate about and also with people who are different from us that we can learn from. Community is essential no matter what you do with your life.

2. Women are afraid of  other women.

Maybe it’s the classic mean girls scenario that plays in your head, or the traumatic sleepover you went to in fifth grade where your “friends,” put your underwear in the freezer. Girls can be mean. When my son used to squabble with his cousin/best friend, we always knew it because someone got punched or pushed. It was all out and aggressive and then it was over. Both of them knew they were mad and both expressed it, albeit not in the best way. At least it was quickly remedied. Girls tend to one-up each other. They don’t punch each other but they jab with snide comments or the obvious exclusion of the ostracized girl. The passive-aggressive pathology of girl relationships is astounding in our culture. They have the better outfit or the better hair, and they’re gonna make sure you know it too. Some women may still be this way, but I’d venture to say that most are not. And if you see someone being a mean girl, go out of your way to be a nice one. I admit, I’ve been really hurt by girls in my life. But these past years have brought slow redemption and I am open to friendships with women where I used to be closed off. Although, there a lot of worries about fitting in at a conference like this while everyone else is witty and dazzling and you feel like you might win the award for most awkward presence in the room, most people have admitted to feeling the exact same way. 

3. Women compare… A LOT.

We do. We judge and rank and profile. We hope we’re not on the bottom of the rung. We wonder if we are still a blogger if we only have a few readers, most of whom include our own family, or if we have a voice if we’re not married yet or don’t have kids. We wonder if anyone really cares what we’re saying. We wonder if the “big” bloggers out there are going to shun us with their cool big bloggerness ( yes, that is absolutely a word.) We wonder if our hair is ok, if our clothes are right, if we pack too much or too little. We wonder who’s going to wear what so we can also decide. We compare. But the truth is that we’re all so different. We all have something intrinsically unique about us and we all bring something different to the table. Be you and be great at it! You’ll never fail.

alli worthington, catherine conners, blissdom

Blissdom ladies photo credit: angryjuliemonday

4. When women get to connect in community, move past insecurity, fear, and comparison, we have a blast.

I already know I’m going to have a blast because I really don’t feel nervous anymore. I worked through all the “oh, I’m just a small blog… ”  and am truly embracing it all. I’m certain there are going to be women who still feel insecure and are comparing and I say, ” I want to find them and make them feel great about themselves.”  I am one of the last people to ever offer false flattery, ask my sister-in-law who went shopping with me once; I am honest. I’m not going to go around passing out fluffy comments just because, that’s not me. But because of my introversion, I am good at getting  to know people and really looking deep for that special thing about them that makes them worth getting to know and maybe they’ll see that thing in me too. I’m hoping to make some great new relationships.

Whether you are attending a blogging conference or not, women feel these things. Make an effort to encourage someone in something you genuinely admire about them. Be you, and don’t worry about the rest. So bon voyage, I’m off to be Alia.  I’ll be updating small picture posts for the week so stay tuned for all my experiences at my first blogging conference.

 

Embracing your you-ness: Why I am an artist.

The awkward silence descends. Everyone fidgets and I begin to hear crickets in the background. The question volleyed into this space of women is “What is your element, how did God make you?” 

No one wants to go first. For some it may be that they truly don’t know. Don’t see the worth buried in them, placed there by their maker. For others it may be the awkwardness of listing all your qualities without sounding like you are bragging. After all, we’re Christian ladies abounding in humility, right? And for others it may be that they do know, they do feel that intrinsic gift and are simply doubting the value of their contribution. They’re not sure it really counts. I have felt a little of all these at times.

Emily Freeman wrote a series on her blog,  Chatting at the Sky, about art. In one particular post she asks the question Are you an artist?”  My automatic reaction was no. One look at her site and the clean white space, gorgeous photos, and amazing writing and I thought, well obviously she is.  But the thought festered in my mind until I had to reconsider the whole question, to which I now answer, “YES, I am.”

Kaia running free

My reason for saying no at first was simple. It seemed a lofty title for one who scratches out thoughts on old receipts and blogs when her kids are sleeping, or running around, or climbing on her. It seemed too high a rank for someone like me. Regular.  We think if a title like artist is awarded it has to have general consensus. I am an artist if enough relevant people say so. Of course, who the relevant people are is another question entirely. I am an artist if my work gets noticed. Although truthfully, many an artist died with little or no recognition.

It is altogether too presumptuous to give myself that title. Maybe we think that this same phantom rule also applies to our element. We assume that if our talents and passions aren’t recognized or acknowledged they aren’t really meaningful. Maybe they aren’t really there.

It’s rampant in our American church culture. There are the A-list qualities of the Alpha-males to lead, teach, and pastor. These are the anointed men of God who are eloquent, charismatic, and articulate. We tend to follow them and put them on stage or in charge of small groups. We really like them in their element because they are so blatantly obvious. The guy can teach or preach or lead. He’s valuable. And I honestly don’t think there’s anything wrong with them being the way God made them, but sometimes if you are on the B-list or God forbid the C-list, you can feel pretty worthless in comparison.  And if there’s anything that can be guaranteed about women, it’s that we constantly fall into comparison. 

We’ve all heard the everyone has a part in the body sermon, but do we really value the elbow as much as the mouth or the eyes? If the dude who sweeps up after church doesn’t show up, someone else can do it, but if the pastor is absent you’ve got a problem. After all, it doesn’t take any special talent to sweep a floor.

So when that question is asked ,we feel something deeper. “WHY are you?”

Why am I? I know the why in terms of theology. Glorify God, enjoy Him forever. Got it. But what about the day-to-day?

What about the, Why Alia? Why me, specifically? Have you ever asked this? Don’t you want to know? Not you asking, why Alia , cause that would just be weird, but the why you?

I posed the question about your element in my last post and asked for comments about what yours are. A few people responded on here and I thank you for those. I’m new to blogging so it’s not surprising I didn’t get a lot of comments but what was surprising was that I got quite a few private email responses.

It seems that some people wanted to share but those first few reasons kept them from it. They weren’t sure if their element really counted. They weren’t sure if it made any difference because it was simple and unnoticed. They weren’t sure they even had an element in which to operate. Let me assure you, you do.

It’s not something we necessarily find on our own. I found mine when I released everything that made up my identity. Mine were revealed as I was pursuing God and allowing my identity to be formed in Him. When we are close to our maker, we feel His pleasure in how we are made. We don’t need the general consensus. We don’t need the recognition. We are fully seen just as we are by the only one who truly matters. 

Sisters, we shouldn’t be timid about this. It’s not really humble to deny something that is all God’s doing anyway. We don’t boast in ourselves, but in the power of God within us. And if you don’t think your contribution is valuable, if you don’t think you are infinitely special and purposed  because it hasn’t been noticed, shrug off those things that repress you and say, “Yes, I am.”  I am because He made me. 

So, I will say, “Yes, I am an artist,” not because I am read or because I am good but because I express. I express art in my care for my children, my loving of my husband, my hands lifted in worship, in my weaving these words, in my very Alia-ness that God endowed me with. I express Him. 

Of course you are always free to email me privately through the contact form but I’d urge you to step out and embrace your you-ness. We give glory to God when we acknowledge His work.  As always, I love to hear from you. Share your thoughts. Are you an artist?

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