The Courage to Become | Kim Pena
The “Courage to Become” is such an all-encompassing subject. When I first brainstormed this I thought of things I had “become.”
From a daughter-->friend-->educator-->wife-->mother-->strong woman the list was long but not super interesting. I reached out the Catia and she asked me a simple but powerful question, “What do you feel has been the most difficult for you? What were you most scared of?” I almost immediately responded but then I just sat back and really reflected for a few days because as an adult not much scares me, but that has by no means always been the case.
How did I go from a child who was scared of even speaking to a woman who not only finds strength in herself but works hard to surround herself with a village with other strong and amazing women?
On being young and scared
When I was young I was scared of everything. I don’t know if it was being the youngest child with an older brother who liked to pick on me or watching America’s Most Wanted (John Walsh gave me nightmares for years) but I was afraid of a lot. I grew up with a speech impediment and so I was always on guard. Over time I became not only scared of how I said things but of what I said. I spent my life trying to be who I thought people wanted me to be. I was most afraid of being myself.
I learned early on how to play a role. With friends and even with family I wasn’t fully me, I worked hard to be who I thought they needed or who they wanted me to be.
I learned pretty early on how to manipulate a false connection. I’m not proud, but it’s true. I let people see sides of me, maybe a dramatic side, maybe a loving side, maybe an intellectual side, maybe sometimes a mean side but never authentic me. I sat in fear that that they might figure me out and judge me or worse, hate me.
As a young woman I held my tongue and told myself that it was a good thing. That if I didn’t say certain things I was being strong and picking my battles – but really I was just holding myself in because I was scared.
I was scared of being wrong, scared of being judged, and sometimes even scared of being right.
The only person who I was completely myself around was my mother. I honestly wanted to meet and exceed any goals she had for me but not because I felt pressured. She was the source of love and strength for me. If I have any goals for myself as a mother it is to make my children feel as comfortable with me as I have always felt with her.
On growing up and finding authenticity
During my senior year of college I went to Austin to find a job.
I wanted to move and get clean break from everyone. I had lived by myself once in college (and even though it was a bad part of town and I almost froze to death) it was exhilarating and I couldn’t wait to do it again.
After I landed in Austin, I had coffee with a guy and I tried my basic first date formula, i.e. ask questions all about them, but it failed. He was the first person who saw through all my bullshit and asked me questions that really made me search for honest answers and then challenged me to defend my answers. So, I decided to try something radically different – I tried to be authentic. I spent time on my own and got to really know myself. And while not everyone was happy with the new me, I was able to form some of the most genuine friendships of my life.
Being authentic was definitely harder than I thought. There were still people in my life that I was terrified would judge me. There were people I loved -- and I really wanted to be who they wanted me to be – but it never quite worked. It is so difficult to reflect on whether the choices you have made are your own or someone else’s expectation of you. It is even harder to accept that the choices weren’t yours and aren’t something you wanted or are particularly happy with. The reality is that when you find courage to challenge the people in your life to get to know the authentic you, you can’t control the outcome.
I was heartbroken over some outcomes and relieved at others but either way my fear melted away and I emerged stronger.
On continuing to evolve
I have discovered the truth in the proverb that change is the only constant. In the last decade, everything about me has changed.
And as I grew so did my drive, my empathy, my capacity to love, and my self-will. I give as many chances as people need. I accept and still love those who don’t like me or still see me as the person I once was. I don’t judge, I embrace. I do everything I can to empower other women. I have friends who don’t agree with me on everything and yet we engage in respectful conversation and I adore them. I cherish my family. I make sure every day that my children and husband are loved and appreciated. I don’t hold my tongue, but I listen humbly.
Ladies, if you don’t have the courage to let your voice be heard and become strong enough to speak for yourself then you’ll never be heard. If you don’t love enough to listen, then nothing can ever be fixed.
If I could leave you with one discovery, it would be --
I have become strong not because I let someone in, but because I learned to let myself out.
And that same power, is waiting for you. -Kim
Essay by: Kim Pena
Don't you love Kim's story of how she moved from fear to power?! I was definitely inspired!
For more of Kim and to say Hello :) , head on over to:
The Hill Country Woman / FB/TheHillCountryWoman / Insta-TheHillCountryWoman
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I’m an author - The Courage to Become, I’m a motivational speaker - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
The Courage to Become | Alexis Edwards
I am thrilled to have the opportunity to participate in a collaborative series dreamed up by the amazingly talented Catia Holm. Catia is a mama, writer, speaker and all around badass lady who is passionate about inspiring authenticity and teaching others how to flourish.
Catia’s “Courage to Become” series features women from all walks of life with uniquely inspiring stories on how they garnered the courage to BECOME. Women blazing their own trails despite fear and doubt so they could BECOME the women they are truly meant to be. The series will highlight and celebrate each woman’s journey and I’m overjoyed that Catia invited me to join the group!
When Catia reached out, I was honestly like, "Huh? Me? I’m boring." But I think that might also be the point. Navigating womanhood can be brutal. Expectations are high, judgments are common, and self-esteem is a journey all its own. To combat that, we need community and we need to know that our voice matters. We need to be told and understand that our purpose is unique and absolutely attainable despite our fears and doubts.
I think many of us truly struggle to become. When I looked up the definition, I found the meaning “begin to be”. To be or not to be, that is the question, right? It certainly has been for me. My life has been a series of inner dialogues about whether or not to begin and while it’s never easy to take the plunge, each new beginning has helped shape me into the woman I am today.
I haven’t lived the easiest life. I was born to very young parents who raised me in a blended and messy shared custody battle ground. My mother struggled with mental illness, substance abuse and I moved from one city to the next as she chased her broken dreams. We didn’t live in one place for longer than a year or two and my life felt completely nomadic. I yearned for normalcy and endlessly hoped for freedom from the roaming chaos.
While not the nuclear family of my peers, my imperfectly disordered upbringing is exactly where everything about my personality was born. It was the beginning of my becoming. I was forced into a life of independence and resilience and quickly learned how to take charge and meet the needs of others. All of which led me to the career path I’m still walking today.
Since before I can remember, I always wanted to be a helper of sorts, well there was that one time when I was four and wanted to be a ballerina trapeze artist, but other than that I wanted to be a vet, a doctor, a teacher, basically all the kickass people saving (or changing) lives.
It’s my theory that those of us that have been broken are pulled into roles of mending and helping and will continuously do everything in our power to bring things (or people) back into wholeness. And that’s exactly what I did.
I came “home” to Louisiana for undergrad, desperate to dig roots, to be still. I thought, “This is where I will stay forever,” but turns out my wild heart needed more adventure. Despite my dad’s dismay, I did not end up going to medical school, I mean math is hard, but I did discover a calling that allowed me to not only heal my own pain, but to also channel it into serving others.
I applied to graduate school at the UT Austin School of Social Work and after visiting the campus felt an intense pull to stay, my first influential internal dialogue about becoming. What about my family and friends in Louisiana? What if I regretted it? What if I failed? But the thing I’ve learned time and time again, is that your gut is your truth.
Each time I’ve doubted or questioned or feared, I’ve closed my eyes and listened to my heart. Deep down, we all know what we need. We all know what is right or wrong or necessary. Our heart and soul whispers the answers into every part of our being. The problem is that we don’t trust ourselves enough to hold those truths steady.
Eventually I became a mother and realized that mothering was hard. I doubt myself daily and find myself frequently telling a friend, “Today I was a bad mom”. It’s as if the hard things, the struggles, make us feel like we are doing everything wrong. The truth that we are good and alive and doing our best – becomes unsteady -- because the pressure outside says darkness is bad. Failure is wrong. Losing isn’t right. But for me, it’s the things in my life that were all of it, the good, bad and ugly, that brought me the most joy --that made me grow and change and become more human. We can struggle and still be good.
My gut (truth) has never let me down. I followed my truth from grad school in Austin to an internship in South Africa and back again. I followed it again into marriage and motherhood. I followed it when leaving my career to stay home with my babies and I’m following it today as I embark on the journey to reignite my career all over again.
I still have zero clue what I’m doing, but I’m experiencing life. I’m trusting the process and listening to my heart every step of the way. I’m sitting with discomfort and fear and letting it guide me as I unearth the truth behind it all.
I think so often about HOW my children will become WHOLE. About how they can reach self-love and embrace their truth and I think the answer is in teaching them -- not so much about right from wrong -- but more about right and wrong. Strange and normal. Easy and hard. Sadness and joy. Fear and confidence. How the most dichotomous of experiences are actually immensely intertwined and living them together is the only way to authentically become.
Essay by: Alexis Edwards
“I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me, too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this and know that, yes, it’s true I’m here, and I’m just as strange as you.”
~Frida Kahlo
Head on over to Birth 360 to get in touch with Alexis
And for a daily dose of FUNNY, REAL and SMART visit Alexis on her Instagram!
Hi friend!
I'm Catia, a woman, wife, mama, sister, sister friend, you know -- I wear a million hats just like you.
One of my biggest whys is that I want people to feel good about ALL of who they are. Including you.
The threads running through all my work (I wrote a book - The Courage to Become, I speak - TEDx, Choose Joy or Die , I am a private coach ) are hope, joy and empowerment.
If I could choose ten words that best describe me I would say: honest, welcoming, giving, curious, loving, earnest, empathetic, spiritual, playful, and sassy. Let's add: adventurous. That's 11.
Nice to meet you!
Want to start feeling really good but not sure where to start? Jump on into our virtual classroom (complimentary of course!) and get a weekly guide on how to walk with confidence and joy! You are divine. You are magic. I look forward to serving you!
Confidence + Joy Weekly Guide
Sign up here
Teachers Change Lives
Originally published on 11-10-13
Some of my earliest memories include school teachers, both good and bad. There was Mrs. Smith who was harder on me than on anyone else in the class, there was Mrs. Everitt who adored her students and taught me how to do neck exercises, and there was Mrs. Vos who gave me a wide open space to discover and learn just what kind of student I wanted to be. Teachers have the capacity to impact students from September through May, and then some.
Well, a few days ago I was working a wine tasting event in my hometown of Weslaco and I looked up and saw Mr. Richard Vos. He is my second grade teacher’s husband. Not expecting him to remember who I was I said, “Hi my name is Catia Hernandez and I…” “I know who you are,” he said. He remembered? I was so happy that he did. My voice immediately went up a few octaves. “How’s Mrs. Vos? It’s been so long since I’ve seen her!” He said she was doing great and had returned to teaching from her hiatus. I asked if she would be stopping by the wine tasting and Mr. Vos told me she was at swimming practice and that he didn’t think so. Since I was eager to catch up with her I asked for her email address. I told him I was really excited to see him too, but Mrs. Vos…Mrs. Vos! I couldn’t wait to send her a note.
I continued serving wine for the next 30 minutes. “Moscato? Ok. Cabernet? Coming right….Mrs. Vos!” Mrs. Vos was standing right in front of me! I came out of my skin with excitement. I came out from behind the serving station and gave her a huge bear hug and a kiss. I attacked her with love.
“How are you? Oh my goodness, it’s been so long! I just have to thank you for being so great. You impacted my life in such an amazing way. You taught me how to write and you even rewarded me by letting me be teacher for a day!” Along the way I have had some incredible school teachers, but Mrs. Vos was extraordinary.
Mrs. Vos taught us how to write compositions and I’ve been writing ever since. One time we event wrote a “How to make a banana split” composition. As a fun Christmas party activity our parents came in the classroom and made banana splits EXACTLY how our compositions instructed, so if we forgot to write, get the ice cream boat and place it in front of you, our banana split ingredients would be place nicely on our desks. She was so good at approaching each student differently and I was no different. She knew exactly what motivated me. So as a reward for being chosen as a Super Star I was allowed to be Teacher for a day. (Every 6 weeks we received our report cards. Additionally the teachers chose outstanding students deemed, Super Stars. Super Stars were rewarded in different ways, one of which included a school wide parade. Super Stars would parade through the school hallways, in crowns and sashes while the high school fight song played over the speakers. People would clap, parents would visit, and flowers were gifted. It had my name written all over it. It was ALWAYS my goal to be named Super Star during the first 6 week period. Just to make sure I set the tone for the rest of the year.) Being teacher for a day included dictating the day’s activities all while sitting….at the teacher’s desk! It was jackpot gold for a Type A 2nd grader. It was awesome. And however small of a gesture, it was my first leadership experience and I was hooked. I bet if you dropped me off at Memorial Elementary I could navigate my way back to our old classroom.
I continued to catch Mrs. Vos up on what I was doing these days. “I’m writing a book,” I told her. I think her eyes welled up but maybe it was just the glare of the fluorescent lighting. “I can’t thank you enough for investing in my life,” I told her. She replied with, “Thank you. Not all our kids thank us as fervently and success stories are always a joy. You were always a very….” And she held her hands straight in front of her and finished with “focused.” Whewh! “You were always structured and focused.” What’s not to like about that?
I went to public school all my life and had a great experience. I was blessed with dozens of caring, thoughtful teachers and Mrs. Vos was the cream of the crop.
Thank you to all the wonderful teachers who work countless hours and give all that you have to your craft. Your work and efforts are felt long after students leave the classroom. In 1991 I was 8 years old and Mrs. Vos’ student. It’s 2013 and I’m 30. More than two decades have passed and I still hold her and those classroom experiences close to my heart.
When you get, give. When you learn, teach. At our best we are all teachers. - Maya Angelou
The Como Mamas
Originally published on 10-23-13
Sometime in mid-March, I was working at ACL and SXSW acts were rolling through the venue. The ticket for this particular night read, Soul Review. I thought, “Cool. I like soul music.” And I had a glimmer of hope that Justin Timberlake would swing by.
At 8pm when the house lights went down the venue only had about 100 people in it. It was a meager start to the night as the venue fits about 2700 music lovers. As I surveyed the crowd I thought, “Maybe Prince is playing down the street or something.”
I scanned the acts on the ticket and since I hadn’t heard of any of them, I didn’t pay much attention. As ACL spans four floors I spent a lot of my time running around chatting and checking with staff on each floor. As I was running around my boss, Tom asked “Have you been inside the venue yet? You’re going to love the act on stage.” As soon as I found a good breaking point I made my way inside the venue and was immediately blown away.
The room was dark and cold and filled with the unforgettable voices of The Como Mamas. As I surveyed the stage I thought, “Only three ladies, no instruments?” I had heard similar sounds from movie soundtracks before, but never in person. The group is made up of three lifelong Gospel singers from the small town of Como, Mississippi, and they were magnificent. Their voices cut straight through the fluff and went directly to my bones. Their voices were gripping. I was mesmerized. I inched my way toward the front of the stage and got lost in their voices. I took photos and videos but nothing compared to the real thing.
When their set was over and the crowd of what was now 200 people had finished applauding, I decided to make good use of my all access pass and go backstage to tell them how awesome they were.
I walked straight up to my favorite of the three singers, Ms. Ester Mae, and I introduced myself. “Hello, my name is Catia and I work here. I just wanted to tell you how powerful and impactful your performance was. Listening to your voices is very moving. Good luck with…” I thought it was be a quick congratulations and I’d be on my way. But before I turned away she grabbed my hands in hers.
We were outside her dressing room and folks were hurriedly working getting ready for the next band, but somehow all that faded away and I felt connected. I didn’t yet know what she was going to say, but I knew that I was going to pay attention.
My small soft hands sat in her encompassing rough hands. Her hands felt like they had been productive for decades. She was tall and was of bigger build and dressed in her Sunday best. Her long corn rows were pulled back in a ponytail and she was smiling so big I could see her gold capped teeth. No one would have questioned her being backstage but she was wearing her artist badge proudly.
Once my hands were in hers and our eyes locked she said, “Thank you so much for that. You know, I’m 62. They came into my church and discovered me 4 years ago. All my life I’ve been singing in the church, for the church and just now, my dreams are coming true. Tomorrow, they are taking me on a plane to New Orleans!” She was beaming. Ms. Ester continued, “I’ve been praying my whole life to God. You just keep working hard for what you want. Don’t lose faith in yourself or in God. When you’re ready, your dreams will find their way to you. Don’t be afraid of hard work.”
I was blown away by her words of wisdom. I knew that this was not an ordinary occurrence.
Ms. Ester definitely looked like she could cook a southern meal and give a great hug. And since we weren’t near a kitchen, I asked if I could give her a hug and she agreed. It was such a mama bear hug. I could feel her love even though she didn’t know me from Adam.
Did she know Guapo and I were about to hit a rocky patch? Did she know I was going to jump into writing full time? Did she know that I was training for a marathon? Did she know I was working two jobs and was really tired? There were so many balls in the air; I had no clue how life was going to be come May. How did she know I would need to hear her words? She didn’t, but God did.
God sent her to me to say, “Keep your head down, work hard and don’t lose faith.” The words, “I’m 62 and I’m just walking into my dream,” pop into my thoughts when I get impatient.
There are signs all around and they come to us in different packages. The universe is constantly talking to us, guiding us along. However, the signs from the universe won’t always be obvious, most times, they’ll be subtle. We have to be open and aware enough to receive them. We have to have open hearts, open minds and be quiet enough within ourselves to notice the messages.
If we are constantly numbing ourselves out with food, alcohol or even activity we will have a hard time reading the signs along the way, if we see them at all. James Earl Jones is not going to show up at our doors telling us what our next move should be, neither is the Wizard of Oz.
Some days a door will open and a door will close and that’s as much change that will happen. Some days there may be a road block along the way redirecting us, and some days the universe may send us Ms. Ester. Most times the signs are so small that we may not even give them any significance, but they are there. Pay attention.
Justin Timberlake was a no show that night, but I got something much better, a hug from Ms. Ester and a message from God.
Ms. Ester, may you continue to touch people’s souls the way you touched mine.
The Five Love Languages
Originally published on 9-25-13
Buy the book, The 5 Love Languages. Read it in one day. Comprehend it in 2-3 days. Practice it forever.
As I was trying to figure out who I was and which way was north, my Mom bought me, The 5 Love Languages for Singles. Ha!
I read it once, but it didn’t really sink in. Until one day, I needed it to.
I hit a rough patch with my now husband. A ROUGH spot.
I thought, “I am going to pull out all the stops.” I was determined to not make the same mistakes I had in the past, so I got really still and rolled up my sleeves. I was determined to do give this relationship the best chance it had at survival. He was trying, I was trying, but somehow we were missing the target with each other. So, I pulled out the book and read it. Reading was not quite enough for me so I downloaded the book on itunes and listened to it to and from work. It’s not Justin Timberlake, but I knew there was important information I needed.
A few plays through book, I realized I was not bringing my 100% to the table.
I have learned that to be in a good relationship, both people have to be responsible for their 100%. Among other things, each person has to bring love to the table, in the way that their partner receives love. Think of your relationship. Do you feel loved? Does the person you are in a relationship with feel loved?
This book, The 5 Love Languages gives you tools to make sure that both people feel loved and appreciated. It helps make sure that both people are being fulfilled. We all give love and receive love in different ways. This book helps you identify the way you receive love. Can you answer, I feel most loved by my husband/wife/boyfriend/girlfriend when_________________________?
The 5 Love Languages:
Quality time-Quality time is just that quality time. You feel loved and appreciated when you and your loved one spend time together. Spending time together could be: making dinner and home, a picnic in the park, visiting a museum or watching a movie together. The time spent together says, I am interested in you and your interests. I love you and so I want to spend time with you.
Touch- Touch comes in many forms. It comes as a kiss on the cheek, as making love, as kisses in private and in public. Touch comes as holding hands while crossing a busy street or by someone placing their hand on your shoulder. Some people grow up with touch and some don’t. It’s easier for some people to convey love through touch than it is for others. Do you receive the message of love through touch?
Gifts- Some people feel loved and appreciated when they are given gifts. Gifts don’t have to be big and expensive; they can be small and thoughtful. A written note speaks volumes to a person who loves gifts. A handmade Valentine’s Day card will do the trick too. Other thoughtful examples are: a coffee mug with a thoughtful sentiment on it, a fresh flower, or a new rosary from the Church gift shop. There are many gifts that would convey, “While I was out, I was thinking of you and here’s some proof.” Gifts that come from loved ones being thoughtful are meaningful. They show that they have listened intently to you AND that they thought of you while they were out running errands. Do you feel loved when people give you gifts?
Words of Affirmation- You feel loved and appreciated when people express to you in words how much they love and how much they are proud of you. “I really love you.” “You are so beautiful.” “You are the great love of my life.” “You are the greatest thing that has ever happened to me.” “You are so handsome; when you’re in the room I don’t see anyone else.” These may seem corny, but they’re not. They are very real to the person being affirmed. Do you feel loved when people tell you how much they love you, or are words not as big a deal as, acts of service?
Acts of Service- You feel most appreciated when your loved ones helps you around the house, or runs an errand for you. Acts of service can be as simple as taking out the trash or as elaborate as hosting out of town family.
As a clue, often people convey love in the way they want to receive love. Often times, our partners, spouses, friends, parents receive love differently than we do.
Could you imagine loving someone and dedicating chunks of time and effort to them without them even recognizing it? Could you imagine cooking and cleaning and ironing your boyfriend’s shirts for days and days and months and months all the while he is saying, “You must not really love me!” Or have you ever been in a relationship where all your significant other ever does is buy you the most amazing gifts and all the while you want them to say how much they are proud of you? You yearn for the day that they say, “Julie, you have made me so proud. I am proud to be your boyfriend.” Couples can go days, months and even years feeling unfulfilled, feeling like maybe their partner doesn’t care or doesn’t love them. They feel this way because they are not speaking each other’s love language. They are not conveying their love in the way their partner best receives it. Love it just love, it isn’t magic.
The best definition of love I have come across is: love is committing to a set of behaviors that have a positive impact on others. Love is positive.
Your life will be SO much easier if you love your partner they way they want to be loved. There’s no sense in feeling love for someone, trying your hardest and have it not work out because there was a miscommunication. Don’t you want the love you feel for your partner to come through loud and clear? Love must be nurtured and the relationship where love lives must be nurtured.
If your partner feels your love and knows it unequivocally, they are much more likely to want to reciprocate. When both people are consciously filling each other’s love’s tank (think of a gas tank) the relationship will grow stronger from daily nurturing. Every day you will know and feel that your partner loves you and vice versa. You will think things like, “Nothing can break us now. He/she loves me and I love them and we are solid!” Or “We are a united front. He/she loves me and they show it!” After a few months, keeping your partner’s love tank full will become second nature. Sounds scary, huh? Or does this all sound too, “Self-help section Aisle 8?” It is scary and it is certainly right up with all the foofy self-help ideas, but it is worth it. You will feel loved and content and so will your partner. Be the person to take the first step toward strengthening your relationship. You both deserve it!
P.S.- This works on all relationships: parents, family, friends, children, co-workers. It’s very effective.
Love is just love. It takes an earnest effort to make it a lifetime.
What it Feels like to Worship
Originally published on 9-15-13
Sunday Morning
It’s 9:58 AM and I’m just getting to church for the 10am service. I’m dressed in a pink tweed dress and some nude patent leather heels. I was too lazy to blow dry my hair, so it’s up in pony tail. I reason with myself that God’s just glad I’m here.
I park in the middle school parking lot across from the low income housing units and walk swiftly up the cracked side walk. As I pass fellow 10 a.m. church goers. I think, “Hello, I hope you’re as excited as I am.” But instead of speaking, I just smile. I have my big brown vegan approved tote in hand, and since I have been coming to Greater Mt. Zion a year and half I know what to pack. Every Sunday I bring a pen, notebook paper, a check book and lots of tissue. Once in a while I bring in my phone so that I can record snippets of the choir, so I can listen to them at my leisure. As I get closer to the building I hear the welcome music coming through the outdoor speakers, which I quite enjoy. It’s like the amuse-bouche, compliments of the chef.
I am politely greeted by a woman in her mid-40s, “Hello and welcome to Greater Mt. Zion. Enjoy the service.” I think, “You bet I will!” I am handed a one page weekly bulletin and my eyes scan it. My heart says, “You need to be more involved.” My mind says, “You travel too much.” I convince myself that my level of involvement is enough and I am ushered in the sanctuary.
I take my seat, tuck my over-sized tote under the pew and before I can even look around to analyze the new outfits in the room, I am engulfed in voices, a buzzing of love. I sit in the first few rows and so I am not farther than 10 feet from a full experience. The 20 person choir is singing their first song. Before I can catch their melody, I can feel that each of their hearts is wide open and full to the brim of praise and thanks. Their cup runneth over so does mine.
The spirit of the Lord is here
The spirit of the Lord is here
I feel it in the atmosphere
The spirit of the Lord is here, oh
The spirit of the Lord is here, oh
The power of the Lord is here
The power of the Lord is here
I feel it in the atmosphere,
The power of the Lord is here, oh
The power of the Lord is here, oh
Everybody blow the trumpet
And sound the alarm
because the Lord is in the temple
Let everybody bow
Let all the people praise Him now
The Lord is here
I close my eyes and the joyous voices raise me into a cloud of what can only be described as love. I think, “This must be what heaven feels like.” Their ability to praise Jesus with such pride and fervor seeps into me and soon my heart is open and full. So full in fact that now it has to find a release. Finally, my eyes well up and steady streams of tears start to roll down my eyes. Any negative feeling that was floating around in me is shoved out by love and gratitude. I can only reason that this strategy will work in everyday life. The more I praise and give thanks, the less space there is for anger, jealousy or even self-pity.
The voices of that fill the old Baptist church are untrained and yet, they sound spectacular. The parishioners’ voices are loud and there is palpable electricity in the room. If a bystander walked by the church and saw it elevating, I wouldn’t be surprised. The 27 year old male soloist convincingly sings, “We’re going higher…higher! The presence of the Lord is here, the presence of the Lord is here, I feel him in the atmosphere, the presence of the lord….IS HERE,” and everyone is so jazzed and my hands are red and stinging from clapping with so much excitement. The color coordinated choir is swaying from side to side and movin’ and groovin’. They look sharp! “I really want to be part of the choir, singing is not my strong point, but maybe I’ll try one day.”
As we near the end of the song the instruments drop off into the background, as to let the believer’s voices be heard more clearly. I feel so much emotion that the lump in my throat is growing with every note. Now we’ve been praising and dancing for 6 minutes and Greater Mt. Zion is filled wall to wall and floor to ceiling with powerful souls who are praising God. It is magical! I am so overwhelmed that I cover my face and cry into my hands. I think, “I am lucky to have found this church home. I am so lucky to have found God.” God is here, I know. I know for sure, God is here.
The church pews and extra patio chairs and balconies are filled with parishioners of all ages. The 200 person congregation is filled with followers who have more than me, less than me, who are different than me and the same as me saying, “Thank you, Jesus. I praise you. Thank you.” We are all just proud and grateful to participate.
The first song is now over.
An hour and a half later, church wraps and I walk out feeling energized and rejuvenated. I feel loved and I know I have contributed to my foundation. I know that the last hour and half was spent not in prayer for things to come, but in prayer of gratitude. On Sundays, I don’t ask God for anything, I just give thanks for all he’s already done. After Sunday service, I know I am a better advocate for humanity. I feel whole.
Heaven must feel like this, I know. I know, Heaven must feel like this.
I wish so much to put each of you in my pocket and bring you with me to church. I think you would love it! I wish I could give you the gift of God’s love and peace, but I know better, only you can do that for yourselves. I love loud joyous celebrations, so Greater Mt. Zion works for me. I encourage you to find what works for you.
Words + Thoughts live
Originally published on 9-11-13
Words are everywhere. They come at as us from the TV, from the newspaper and from the radio. Media is just one medium, but there are countless others. Day to day interactions with family and friends and co-workers can be just as impactful. Over the years I have learned to be more discerning about the words I use and about the words that I let into my space, and it’s my days and nights so much happier.
Words and thoughts from TV
When Guapo and I started dating I avoided watching TV or movies where people were mean or unkind to each other. I started avoiding those subjects because I never wanted the following questions to come up, “Would you ever do that?” or “Have you ever…?” or “What would you do if…?” I didn’t want that junk, albeit fictional, entering into my subconscious, his, or ours. So we watched a lot of college football, comedy shows and happy romantic comedies. Finished were the days of “This is 40” or “The Five Year Engagement.” As funny as those types of movies seem, they’re simply negative wrapped in funny.
You’d think that when he’s not home, I’d turn it back to Real Housewives, right? Wrong. After one year of not being a regular viewer, I just can’t handle it anymore. Their voices sound like nails on chalkboard to me. I can literally feel their vile language invading my space. There are countless shows on TV where people are just down right mean to each other, there’s no value in watching it. Most times it’s like watching venom spew back and forth across the screen. “You’re a bitch! No, you’re a bitch!” This sounds extreme, I know. But once you start paying attention to how you feel AFTER you’ve finished watching an E! Entertainment News marathon, you’ll realize, it’s indifferent at best.
The other day we went to go see Woody Allen’s, Blue Jasmine. I was so pumped. I love a good movie with eye candy to boot! Forty five minutes in, I realized it was a downer! The characters were heavy and rude. I thought, “Do we stay and get our 20 bucks worth, or do we leave?” I tapped Guapo on the shoulder and he knew, he could feel it too. We left and were eating at one of our favorite hippie restaurants in no time. See ya later, Woody!
Words and thoughts from other people
About a month ago I walked into a boot repair shop in West Texas, and the owner, a lady in her mid-40s, was posted up behind a display counter. She greeted me and quickly proceeded to talk about being financially strapped and horses being slaughtered. She was clear in communicating to me just how much the world owed her. I thought, “Woah, lady. This is not the way to get me to come back here.”
There was a dark grey cloud looming over the boot shop and her negative words and vibe seemed to stick everywhere, like hot gum melted to the bottom of your shoe. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough. “Thanks for the chat, see you …never.”
If someone’s talking about icky things, I try my best to exit as quickly as possible. If I can’t exit, I try to change the subject. There’s no added value to my life (or to theirs) if I’m listening to someone rehash how much paying taxes sucks or how much their ex-boyfriend sucks. I prefer the sunnier side of memory lane.
Our words and thoughts
We tell ourselves some crazy stuff. We say out loud about ourselves what we would never say about our friends. It’s like we expect ourselves to be a glossed up version of a woman. We are to have the brilliance of Tina Fey, the hotness of Beyonce, the tenderness of a pre-school teacher, oh yeah and after dark the fierceness of Rihanna. Are you kidding me? No. We (me included) can be cray, cray!
Yesterday I joked, “I haven’t gone to the grocery store! I’m not a good wife.” Or a few months ago as thoughts were bubbling up inside of me and I was resisting I said, “Maybe I’m not a good writer. Maybe I just wasn’t meant to be a writer.” Or, “I know that the pork chops I cooked for dinner aren’t the greatest, they’ll be better next time.” Or the classic, “She’s so pretty; she’s so much prettier than me.”
Thankfully, in my house, comments like that are usually cut off at the knees. “Don’t joke about that, you’re a great wife,” or “Stop. You are a good writer, but you are on a learning path,” or “There’s no self-hate in this house, we don’t allow it.” Dang! Even when I use self-deprecating humor to be funny, I get shut down! My house is better off that way.
The more we use these words, the more we tell ourselves that we are not enough, the worse off we are. Have you ever noticed that when you don’t weigh yourself every morning and you don’t obsess about the .5 pounds you’ve gained, you’re much happier (and just as hot!)
Words and thoughts are things. Be conscious of the words you use and the energy you are putting out there. Are you a glass half full kind of person, or are you a glass half empty kind of person, or are you a… gosh I wish I had a better glass kind of person? What message are your words and actions sending?
Be a positive force in the world and value your life enough to only surround yourself with the like.
What Actually Matters?
Originally published on 9-7-13
A few years ago my girlfriend and I were moseying along South Congress and we stopped into the Hotel Saint Cecilia bar to have a drink. After we sat down the bartender asked for our room key. I told him that we weren’t staying on property; we were just there for a cocktail. He politely informed us that the bar was only available to hotel guests, and a few minutes later we were back, moseying along South Congress.
I walked out slightly bummed but since the bartender was so polite, I was intrigued.
I thought, one day, when it’s a super special occasion, I’ll stay there.
Fast forward to super special occasion, July 26th, 2013. Guapo proposed, we were officially engaged and planning commenced.
Part of the planning was booking a hotel room for our wedding night. As soon as Guapo gave me a hint of support for booking a room at the HSC, I was on it. It is possible that I booked it while he was finishing his declaration of support. “Sure, I think a room at the HSC would be…..” “Click.” Booked. I was thrilled! Hotel Saint Cecilia, here we come!
I booked it for two nights, August 28th the night before our wedding and August 29th our wedding night. My plans were to hang with my girlfriends, enjoy some extra time at the hotel and get ready for the big day, of course!
A few days out Guapo suggested that the night before the wedding I should sleep wherever I’d get the most rest and be most peaceful. He said he loved me and understood if I wanted to get some extra girl time and that we’d have plenty of nights together after. I felt he sincerely meant either location.
As I was mulling it over my sleeping situation I thought about Sex and City, the movie. Carrie and Big get engaged. Their wedding planning starts off intimate and then snowballs into a huge NYC sized production. They have intense drama and spend the next year trying to get back to where they started, cozy.
In the four weeks of wedding planning I made a concerted effort to keep everything as cool and casual as possible. I wasn’t zen, I just did my best. I never wanted to have the cake topper not coming in overshadow the importance of us committing our lives to each other. In the same vein, we had a teeny wedding of 25. This was our way of focusing on the marriage and not the production of a wedding.
It must be said that I delight in attending large, festive weddings. If those work for you, I am thrilled and please invite me to yours! I will show up in your wedding video dancing like a fool. However, a big fat Mexican wedding just doesn’t suit our personality as a couple.
Back to the task as hand -- deciding whether or not to stay at the hotel the night before our wedding.
As I was trying to figure it out I thought, “What will bring me/us the most peace and which choice will highlight the reason of honor so to speak?” I thought, “I am committing my life to this person tomorrow and my priority is staying in a cooler than cool hotel?” It just didn’t sit well with me. By 3pm on the 28th I had decided. Home was where I would stay.
I stayed at home and our fabulous to die for hotel room, where movie stars stay, stayed empty.
We slept in our bed together and woke up together. We have a beautiful morning routine that I guard intently and I guarded it that day too. There was no way we were going to start this marriage focusing on RSVPs, dinner selections or other people’s preferences. Family and friends were in town and buzzing around but we didn’t let that cut into our morning time either.
On the morning of our wedding day we read newspapers, sipped hot almond milk lattes and enjoyed each other’s company. At 9am we kissed goodbye and agreed to see each other at 4:45pm, ceremony time.
It’s so easy, especially during big moments like a wedding day, to get worked up and focus on a million little things: different personalities, schedules, rentals, linens, weather and even the groom’s attire.
Those are all little things and in the end they don’t matter. And if we’re keeping things in perspective, they don’t matter, ever.
Take a moment to write down what matters to you. It will help keep you on track.
My focus for this event is:_____________
My goal today is:____________________
I am here today to:___________________.
Don’t let your mood or perspective or goals get polluted by all the junk floating around in your orbit. I encourage you to stay peaceful and hang onto what matters most to you.
Leaving work Post Partum
Originally published on 7-24-13
Before graduating high school I was an honors student, played varsity golf and was a drum major of a 300 person marching band. When I graduated at 17 years old, I ranked 5th out of 600. After high school I attended UT Business School and clipped through that in 3 years, only to graduate at 20 years old. Immediately after UT I enrolled in graduate school at the University of Houston where I worked full time and took a full course load. After two years in graduate school I graduated with a 4.0 and got hired onto my then dream job, a manager at Eddie V’s Edgewater Grille in downtown Austin. In 2006 Eddie V’s was the sexiest place in town. The restaurant was filled with money, power, fame and beauty to boot. I was having my cake and eating it too. At 25 my family hired me full time to help run their million dollar business, Holiday Wine and Liquor. I attended community events, filmed commercials, conducted wine tastings, created team culture and built our brand. After four years with Holiday, I was hired in 2011 to be General Manager of Bar Operations at ACL-Live in downtown Austin. I was back in Austin and working at the hippest place in town. Mariah Carey told me to make it happen, and I did.
Well, a month ago I let ACL and all the cache that went with it, go. I left for two reasons. The first was to create a better environment for my relationship and future family. The second was to focus on Anna and see my dreams of writing and coaching come true.
But, seven days after I left ACL, it hit like an anvil, I was making less money and I had turned in all my street cred. Money equals power, right? Or does money equal freedom? Or does working at a cool place equal power and freedom? Whatever money and job status equals, I started to feel a little less than. I felt like a financial burden to my partner and it seemed the only way to rectify this was to work really hard at making our house perfect.
On the 8th day, I woke up at 7:45 and made the bed by 8am. I had never made the bed so early. By noon, I had washed dishes, rearranged the living room furniture, took out the trash and recycling, made iced tea, and thanked my boyfriend 78 times for reasons known and unknown. I kept thinking, “Oh, what a nice man to take me in with all my student loan debt, I’d better be extra appreciative today, he is the breadwinner after all!” I was thanking him at the rate that Pippen thanked Jordan. I was thanking him like Katie Holmes and Nicole Kidman thanked Tom Cruise. I couldn’t stop thinking how disrespectful it would be to say, “You bring home the bacon and don’t forget to cook in for breakfast too!”
Maybe it was the Mexican servitude in me and maybe it was all those years of Catholic guilt indoctrination, but it was there and it was loud.
The fact that I was not contributing as much money to the family bank account grabbed a hold of me in a way I didn’t think it would. But, like the sun rises every morning, so too did God send me a teacher.
In the few weeks after my mind had been spinning, Guapo and I sat down with friends for dinner. There were three couples, and we sat divided at the table, three men and three women. Conversation got rolling and I had the patience to wait until our entrees to do what I do best, spill my beans.
I detailed my latest life developments which included: leaving ACL, making less money, feeling overloaded with domestic duties and feeling a little less than. I described to these ladies who are wonderful mothers and strong women, how I had been unsettled and how I was trying to get my sea legs for being what I have coined a ‘house person’ (since I’m not a Mom yet), someone who largely works from home and tends to house hold duties.
Elizabeth, a mom of three, looked at me and said, “Girl, when I left my job, it took me a year and a half to adjust!” She said, “Even though I knew it was the right decision for my family, I felt less than because I no longer had a job that people were in awe of.” Elizabeth continued with, “It took some real effort not to say, I’m just a stay at home mom. When the babies cried, I felt the need to jump out of bed and not inconvenience my husband who works long days.”
Vanessa, a mom of two, said, “Oh yes, I totally understand. At first you’ll feel the need to always have the dishwasher empty and have elaborate dinners cooked.” She too had a really cool job where she had more street cred than she could ask for. Vanessa also opened up and told me about the first time she went shopping after she became a stay at home mom. She said she paused out of guilt before buying a $50 bra, because maybe it wasn’t really communal money. Thankfully, Vanessa didn’t let the conversation end before telling me that there was a time she apologized to her husband for not having the dishes cleaned and he replied with, “Don’t worry about it, it’s not your job.” Surprised, Vanessa asked, “It’s not?” And she grabbed my hand and looked at me and said, “It’s not.” I felt relief sinking in.
There’s a lot to be said for women who support women. They could have easily brushed aside my comments, but they didn’t. They listened and empathized and responded. They held my hand, told me they knew exactly how I felt and sent me on my way. I am very grateful for them.
On the drive home after dinner, because I just had to have it all figured out before we were in the driveway I asked Guapo “What is my job now that I have so much free time?” He took a second and said, “Your job is to be kind and thoughtful and fulfilled, without those things our world doesn’t work.” He said, “You took a leap of faith on us, and I honor that. You giving up a job where you work nights and odd hours enhances our lives, and for that I’m grateful.” It finally started sinking in that I in fact was not a financial burden and that my increased presence in our lives was valued on time alone.
We parked the car, walked inside our home and I sat at the kitchen table while I watched Guapo buzz around the house. He fed the dogs and changed the slip covers on the sofa cushions and I told my Catholic guilt to hit the road.
The next day I reconciled that all my go getter accomplishments were still there and that “I” the person who did all those things didn’t vanish, I just decided to take another route. I made a deliberate choice to channel my energy into my home and my family and my dream of writing, and that doesn’t make me less than who I was six months ago. It in fact, gets me closer to being who I want to be.
Ladies, thank society for their idea of who you should be and if it doesn’t work for you, set it aside. Our greatest responsibility is not to make sure we fit into perfect boxes. Our greatest responsibilities as beings are to remain fulfilled and healthy and happy, so that we may make each of our corners a better place.
Some days I’ll have the bed made by 8am and some days I won’t, and it’s all okay.
The Velveteen Rabbit
Originally published on 7-11-13
Yesterday afternoon I walked up to the register at work and there she was in all her glory and there I was in all my plainness. She and I had once been friends but eventually the friendship strained and like often happens, life took us in different directions. There was no wall to cower behind and no rock to hide under.
There I stood, all 63 inches of me. I was dressed in rolled up boyfriend jeans, borrowed summer flats, a tattered Old Navy tank top, my hair lazily pulled into a pony tail, my boobs were hanging a little lower to the ground because I was wearing a strapless bra a few sizes too big (let’s face it, after running a marathon, they just never came back), I had not a lick of make up on and not even the dullest sparkle. I was as raw as I could be.
She was adorned with expensive shiny jewelry, stood what seemed a foot taller than me, she had her make up perfectly applied and her hair perfectly coiffed and she looked as beautiful as ever. I felt like we were in the boxing ring. She was packing a mean punch and I was out of my league.
My heart started to race and my ego started to squirm, it was so uncomfortable. All I could think was, “She’s so tall and beautiful, and I’m so short and inferior.” I was intimidated by her appearance. We stood there making small talk; all the while I was analyzing her accessories and comparing them to the lack of mine.
My thoughts were shallow in the worst way, I know. I felt like a frumpy commoner standing in the shadow of this glamazon.
Who knows what she was thinking? Maybe she was thinking, “Woah, Catia really stopped caring about her appearance,” or maybe she thought, “Casual Wednesday!” Or maybe she had the audacity to think about her own life, “I’ve got to make sure to pick up bread before I pick up the kids from day care.”
As she drove off in her cool car (my dream car), I pushed the emergency button.
My first move was to call my Sis who turns out couldn’t give me much solace as she was at work, I was pouty but I understood. Then I dialed my cousin to confess my moment of total intimidation. Then I called my boyfriend. No one answered. Rats!
I resolved I’d have to push through it myself, and I called on the following notion:
If you are walking in God’s purpose you should not be intimidated by anything or anyone else. Way easier said than done.
So I had a chat with myself.
Am I walking in God’s purpose? Yes. I am good to people, I love and nurture those around me, I offer kindness and love at the same rate that Dancing With The Stars offers golden spray tans. I am loved and I love deeply in return. I offer more good to the world than bad. I am pleased with the person I am.
For a solid fifteen minutes I sat with the awkward feelings, then went about my business at work and about an hour later, I had talked myself through the embarrassment. And then, it was over and I had a good laugh.
The Band-Aid solution would be to constantly be Stepford ready, but it would be a superficial fix and would not address my insecurities and self-esteem.
Every day, I stand in front of a mirror my eyes wander to the parts of my body that need the most help. I’m 5’3 and have always yearned to be taller, fat collects in my belly, I have cellulite, and my nose seems to be more pronounced than ever, I have pockets of fat on my inner thighs that have proven to be more indestructible than Kryptonite and …. -- as soon as I get on roll like that I try catch mind and I begin to be kind and gentle on myself and be grateful for all my blessings.
I stand back and say, I am thankful for having two arms to bear hug my friends with and two healthy legs to run marathons with and teeth to eat vanilla birthday cake with and a heart that has the capacity to love something in just about everyone and that my heart has the capacity to feel love.
Quite often my boyfriend tells me he fell in love with me because I am kind and thoughtful. After the 789th time it finally sank in and I relief washed over me! I don’t have to be Real Housewives of Beverly Hills dressed to be loved, I can just be me, and I can be real.
As happens, time will take its toll and our faces will change our skin will soften and our toes will curl. Our body will change; fashions and trends will fade away and so will suit we wear. As our outside fades our intentions, hearts and goodness will remain real.
“Real isn't how you are made. It’s a thing that happens to you. It doesn't happen all at once. You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.” - Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit
If we can wrap our minds around the notion that what is real and significant is the way we treat people and the way we love, then I think we’d all breathe a little easier and our egos wouldn’t be so easily threatened.
Razzle dazzle is all well and good; in fact, I am a big proponent of it! I love nothing more than gold bangles and a cute summer dress and really high heels. I think we should all be comfortable being ourselves no matter where we fall on the glitz and glamour spectrum. We should be proud of who we are on casual Wednesdays and be proud of who we are on date night Fridays. I believe in a safe space for all of us, where we can all be our authentic selves with confidence and pride and be real.