Not My Own

Growing up I had always been what society has labeled a "tomboy." I was more comfortable trying to be more like a boy than a girl. I was pretty athletic and loved wearing basketball shorts. I could not stand the color pink and always preferred to be outdoors rather than shopping. I didn't get my first manicure or pedicure until my wedding day. To this day I still don't know how to braid my own hair or use a curling iron. The funny thing is, I received a lot of positive attention for this behavior. Perhaps it is the reason I strived to be this way. I received a great deal of praise from so many people because they thought it was cool that I wasn't super girly.  However I wonder... what if I were born a boy who had more feminine traits? What if I didn't like sports and preferred shopping? What if I preferred to hang out with girls because guy culture seemed too crude?What if I liked doing my nails and my favorite color was pink? What if I hated guns and was in

I will never forget the time I thought I completely failed during a job interview. It was more than a job, it was a leadership position on the Barnabas Team at Calvin College. A male and female Barnabas leader were assigned to a dorm to help other residents grow spiritually. Barnabas leaders were responsible for living their lives vulnerably reflecting Christ to others. I remember walking in for the interview to a room with two other candidates and a table full of college employees in charge of the Barnabas program. This unique style interview was set up in a way where those in charge got to watch us interact with other candidates for the position. I specifically remember one of the instructions was, "Find out from one another what each person's testimony is." I jumped to conclusions in my head that this was the time we were suppose to share our testimony with everyone in the room. I jumped at the chance to show the leaders I had a great story and wasn't afraid to s

I spent most of the dinner talking my friend's ear off about how frustrated I was with my husband. I explained to her how tensions were skyrocketed in our house and communication breakdowns were ruining my marriage. Towards the end of the meal the waitress gave us a fortune cookie. Mine ironically said, "We are very happy together." I thought it was a joke! So I just lost it with laughter and put my head down on the table while other customers probably wondered if I escaped from the mental hospital. Yet, the more I  reflected on that phrase the more I started to realize that even in our current misery we are happy together.  Here is a snap shot of our current misery. Our household contains an insane amount of stress. My husband has the finish line just around the corner (we hope) for earning his PhD in neuroscience, but he is still waiting for a final publishing before starting his dissertation. I am half way through my second pregnancy. More money is going out than com

I will never forget the moment when my son was born when I finally knew he was a he! The surgeon told my husband to look over the blue curtain hanging to hide my c-section in order to call out the gender. "It's a boy!" Andrew said with a huge smile on his face. All the joy we had in that moment had nothing to do with the fact that we were having a boy. We were just thrilled to finally meet our beloved child! Our heart was not set on any specific gender. Now that we are expecting our second child, once again nothing has changed. We honestly have absolutely no gender preference. We are just thrilled to have another child join our family. I haven't done my research, but it seems to me most people prefer to find out the sex of their baby at their second ultrasound appointment. It's even trendy these days to have a gender reveal party. I see absolutely nothing wrong with that and encourage celebrations. So please don't think I am trying to convince anyone t