Unlike my other blog, When I’m Thin, the appearance of this blog hasn’t changed too much.  The original theme was purple, lots of purple, and it pretty much stayed that way.   Purple is one of my favorite colors, but the theme never felt quite right.  I also thought the type was a little small and maybe it was hard to read.  It just didn’t feel like the look of the blog reflected the spirit of the blog.

Now those who know me, particularly the long suffering Steve from Vanseodesign, will tell you that I know just enough HTML to be dangerous.  I can generally make changes to my blogs, but we can’t always be sure that the changes I make will work out as I wanted them to work out.  Steve has rescued me from self created blog meltdowns before, so I’m always a bit hesitant about making changes.  I’m a writer, not a coder.  I generally like it best when I can write the words and leave the problem of making them look pretty to others.

Still Settling for More needed a change.  I needed a change.  So I went looking for a new theme, and found Scribble Scratch and a lovely selection of Wordpress themes.  There were several I liked, but this one just seemed to stand out.  I liked the colors.  I liked the bridge leading off into the distance.  It just felt warm and soothing and right.

So, the blog got a makeover.  While I have to admit I secretly hope that everyone who visits here stops by for the writing, I do know that appearance does make a difference.  I hope you like Settling for More’s new look as much as I do.

The manuscripts are currently up in the room designated as my office.  I started writing the first one, if memory serves, when I was in high school.  Others have followed over the years.  Some are no more than a few pages long.  A few are more substantial than that.  All are an attempt at talking about some portion of my past, of using words to bring sense and meaning to events that might well have neither.

All are unfinished.

When I started this blog,  one of the reasons that it came into being was to talk about the same subjects I had tried to deal with in the manuscripts.  Maybe it’s just me, but it seemed like there had to be a reason that the things that had happened to me happened to me.  If it was all random, if there was no rhyme or reason, if it was just bad luck or bad timing or bad karma, then it would all be that much harder to take.  Somewhere along the line, as a coping mechanism if nothing else, I decided these things were happening to me because I had the ability to tell my story, and maybe help others.  I was experiencing what I was experiencing so others could learn.

Yes, I have a lot of coping mechanisms.  Sometimes a messianic complex is one of them.

The only problem is that believing you’re supposed to tell your story and actually telling it can be two different things.  Lately I’m started to feel like my emotional striptease is never leading to the payoff.  I remove a glove, I slip off a shoulder strap, but I retreat behind the conveniently placed curtain at the end of the stage before you really get to see anything good.

Maybe some things are still to painful.  I know I still worry too much about what other people might think.  I’m always struggling to find a balance between what I owe myself and what I owe those who read these words.    Part of me thinks that telling my stories would be self indulgent at best and boring at worst and maybe I should just talk about cookbooks and rice pilaf.  Most of me knows that I think way too much.

In the end there is one fact that always remains.  I’ve been circling around some of these stories for 20 years or more.  The urge to write doesn’t stay with you that long unless you have something to say.

I’m just wondering if anyone would be interested if I decided to tell these stories.

Maybe I’m a little concerned the stories aren’t worth telling.

Mostly I’m just wondering how much is too much.

How much would you bare?

Inquiring minds, mine anyway, want to know.

Every once in a while I go back and read what I’ve written here.  Sometimes I’m reading to see what I’ve learned.  Sometimes I just want to know what I was thinking at any particular point.  This blog has kind of become my notepad for my thoughts, and it’s also where I try to work out some of the issues in my life.  Lately, however, I’ve noticed that a lot of what I write is about the negative stuff or the problems I’m facing.  If all you knew about me was what you saw on this blog, you’d probably think that my life was pretty dark and I was quite a negative person.  Actually, nothing could be further from the truth.

About four years ago I realized that part of what was causing problems in my life was my attitude.  I was a natural born worrier and I tended to see the dark side of everything.  I didn’t hope for the best, I expected the worst, and generally the worst came along right on schedule.  As I got wiser about myself and smarter about how I wanted to live my life, I realized that choosing to emphasize the positive made me, and those around me, much happier.  Given that, it made much more sense to try and see the positive side of things.

I guess this blog has become the place where I examine the obstacles I still have to overcome.  Because of that focus, I tend to write about the problems I’m having, not the great things that are happening in my life.  I do have a lot of wonderful stuff in my life, good friends, a lovely new home, my health, a steady job, things for which I should be grateful.  While I don’t want to stop looking back at where I’ve been and examining my challenges, I also want to focus on the good, just in case whatever I put my focus on is what multiplies in my life.

One of my solutions for this dilemma is to institute What I’m Grateful For Wednesdays.  Every Wednesday I’ll write a gratitude post.  Maybe I’ll write about some good thing that happened to me.  I might just make a list of what I’m grateful for that week.  To tell you the truth I’m really not sure what form this will take.  I just know that there’s a lot of good in the world and in my life.  It seems only right I take at least one day a week to acknowledge that.

One of the women I co-write the blog A Frugal Housewife with asked an interesting question this morning on the other blog she writes. She asked about blog boundaries and what other bloggers consider off limits and what they will discuss on their blogs.

When I first started writing this blog and my other blog, When I’m Thin, I agonized over that question quite a bit. I knew that I wanted to tell the truth. I also knew that some of my interpretations of events probably wouldn’t mesh entirely with the interpretations of some of my family and friends. I fully intended to stand behind everything I said and everything I wrote, I just wasn’t sure exactly what I wanted to reveal and what I wanted to keep to myself.

I’ve been writing this blog for a while now and I’ve learned that most of the stuff I want to keep to myself is the stuff of which I’m ashamed. I suppose everyone’s first instinct is to try to portray themselves in the best light possible. I’m no different. Part of me wants to portray myself as a triumphant survivor who overcame sexual abuse, a childhood with an alcoholic parent, and depression and emerged victorious.

The truth is I am that person but I’m also someone who made a lot of mistakes. I hurt a lot of people in the years when I was struggling with my own demons. I can’t change the past and I may not be able to repair some of the relationships I damaged, but I can at least acknowledge what I’ve done, even if I only acknowledge it here.

I guess in the end part of settling for more is acknowledging and accepting who you are, warts and all. I’ve done a lot that I’m proud about, and I’ve done some things that don’t make me so proud. All of it has made me who I am today.

Strangely enough, I don’t think I’d change that, even if I could.

Sometimes I wonder why I keep writing here. It seems pretty clear that no one is reading this except me. I always tell myself that the point of all this isn’t to be read, and to some extent that’s right. On the other hand, if I didn’t want anyone to read this stuff except me, I wouldn’t have gone through the expense of buying a domain name and hosting. Clearly, I’m hoping to attract an audience.

It seems kind of presumptuous, or at least it feels that way, to say that I have a lot of life wisdom at 39. I feel like I should be 89 or so before I start making that claim. At the same time, I’ve been through a lot of things in my 39 years of life. I’ve made a lot of mistakes and I’ve learned about a lot of ways that a good life cannot be lived. I want to help other people learn from what I’ve done. Maybe I can save a few people some of the pain that I experienced.

I also want to chronicle this stage of my life. I’m trying to expand my horizons and this is the place I come to talk about how that feels. Some of what I’m doing is scary. Some is joyous. Sometimes I have not clue what I’m doing at all. This is where I come to record all those feelings and share those experiences. Again, maybe someone else can learn from what I’m doing and take lessons on how to go about their own settling for more experience.

I think, mostly, I write in hopes that something I say here will strike a chord with others. I wrote a few days ago about longing for a sense of community. I think this blog is one of my attempts to form that community. So far, it doesn’t seem to be going so well. There is, however, always tomorrow, and things could pick up then.

I’ve been struggling with this blog over the last few weeks.  I wasn’t really sure why until it came to me in a flash tonight.  As I so often do, I was playing a game of Bubbels, and idly mulling things over when it hit me that the blogs I love best are the ones in which the writers speak their minds.  Those blogs have personality and depth and can make me laugh or cry or incite me to anger.  Those are the blogs I love and that’s what I want this blog to be.

When I first started writing here that’s what I intended this blog to be.  I have a lot of opinions but it seems that lately I’ve been supressing them.  I think part of that is due to my job.  I have a semi-public persona and there are things that I wouldn’t say in my work life that I would, and do, say in my personal life.  I think work Kristine has been taking over a bit too much lately.   I’m finding that keeping all my opinions to myself is beginning to become a habit.

Since I want to start speaking my mind a bit more, I thought I’d throw out a few shocking (or maybe not so shocking) tidbits tonight to get the ball rolling.  None of these items will end the world as we know it, but it feels a bit daring to say them here nonetheless.

Item 1:  I hate, dispise, loathe and revile all reality television.  I rue the day the first “reality” show was created.

Item 2:  I don’t consider documentaries, or anything on the History Channel, Biography or TLC or Discovery to be reality television.

Item 3:  If Obama wins the Democratic nomination I’ll vote for him.  If Hillary wins I’m voting or Donald Duck, or John McCain, whichever one squicks me out less.

Item 4:  I love The Daily Show and The Colbert Report.  Smart, funny men have always been my weakness.  

Item 5:  I have 100 cable television channels.  I probably watch three, maybe four. 

Item 6: When I was a kid I believed I had ESP.  Sometimes I still do.

Item 7:  I do believe in love.  I’m just not sure it will ever happen to me.

Item 8:  I’m very minimalist about my appearance and my clothes.  That’s mostly because I secretly believe that more make-up and brighter colors won’t make me any prettier.  Mostly I’m pretty sure I’m beyond help.

 Item 9:  99% of the time I’m pretty bored with my life as it is right now.  I need to meet some interesting, exciting, intelligent people.  I need to be an interesting, exciting person too.  Although I consider myself to be intelligent, I have no idea how to do that.

Item 10: If I had to chose between Kirk and Picard, I’d choose Picard.  I’ve always had a thing for older men.

That was kind of fun.  I may have to institute a 10 Things I Believe post once a week, just to remind myself to say what I think.

I try to think positive.  When I was younger I often took the negative view of everything.  If there was a bright or a dark way to look at a situation, I was firmly on the dark side.  Finally, a well meaning friend took me aside and explained that, not only was I not helping myself, but I was really becoming a pain in the ass for those around me.  I sat down and took a hard look at myself and realized I didn’t want to be that person.  I resolved from then on to be more cheerful, positive and upbeat and to look at the bright side of things.  Most of the time I’m able to do that.  Occasionally, like today, I’m not.

When I came back from my recent hospitalization, I was told that I needed to get some FMLA paperwork filled out and, when this paperwork was submitted, my absence would be covered.  I wouldn’t have to use any vacation, and I wouldn’t lose any money.  As it turns out, that summation of my situation may not have been accurate.  Now it seems, I may lose all my vacation and all my personal days and be left with the prospect of any further absences being unpaid. 

Now, looking on the bright side, I realize that I’m lucky to have a job with decent health insurance to begin with.  I’m lucky that I got good care during my recent health scare and I’m lucky that something much worse didn’t happen to me.  Although I do have some medical bills to pay, I’m making enough so I can get them paid.  My car is paid for.  My rent is cheap.  I’m writing this on a nearly new laptop which is connected to the Internet through a high speed connection.  I’m not starving, or suffering from a terminal illness.  Last year I only used two of the five vacation days I was allowed, so I probably wouldn’t have used all my vacation this year either.  Also, even if I had known what might happen, I wouldn’t have made a different choice anyway.  My health had to come first.

So, obviously, this isn’t the worst news I’ve ever had.  There are a lot of positive things in my life and a lot of positive ways to look at the situation.  My brain knows this, but the five year old kid inside of me is just pissed.  Sometimes, as much as I want to look on the bright side and be grateful for what I have, I can’t do it. Sometimes I’m not sure what I have is so great.

I guess, sometimes, you just have to take a moment and wallow in being mad and disappointed.  Tomorrow is another day and anything could happen.  All things considered there is much more good in my life than bad.  Although I sometimes want to complain, there isn’t that much that really warrants complaint.  So, I’ll cling to my resolution to be positive and tell myself that tomorrow will look brighter.  I’ll also cling to my belief that believing that will work.

Because, you see, sometimes it doesn’t.  

Probably the hardest part of settling for more is determining what “more” is for you.  There are several different versions of “more”.  Society espouses one version.  Your family may think “more” means something else entirely.  Well meaning friends may make a variety of suggestions regarding what “more” should be.  Everyone will have an idea about what “more” means and what it looks like and feels like, and most will try to tell you that their idea is the right one for you.  They’ll claim to have your best interests at heart, and intend to be kind, but many people may try to steer you away from your “more” not toward it.

One of the hardest lessons for me to grasp has been the one that teaches that “more” will be different for every person and that those differences are o.k. and even exciting.  For a long time I tried to make my “more” be what other people, well meaning, kind people, told me it should be.  I knew that what they told me I should want was not what I wanted, and that a lot of the things they told me I should accept were not acceptable to me, but I wasn’t yet strong enough to stand up for my real, genuine “more”.  So, for a long time, and for a lot of reasons, I settled for a counterfeit “more” and tried to be happy.

I’ve finally learned that the first step to achieving your “more” is defining what that is for you.  Some people may say “more” involves a having a family, and raising children.  Another person’s “more” may be a fulfilling, high powered career with lots of perks and a powerhouse salary.  Someone else may discover their “more” involves living on a beach and selling crafts while making just enough to live on.   The definition of “more” depends on who is doing the defining, and one person’s “more” is no more right or wrong than the next person’s.

When it comes to determining what “more” is for you, the concepts of “right” and “wrong” should be thrown completely out the window.  I’m certainly not advocating forgetting what is moral or not moral, no one’s “more”, at least in my view, should include lying, cheating, stealing, murder, or harm to anyone else.   What I’m advocating is the idea that “more” should be considered in terms of what works and doesn’t work for you.  After all, the “more” you’re creating is your own, so who better to determine what your “more” is than you yourself? 

In the end, “more” is a relative term with no clear definition.  My “more” may not be your “more” and your “more” may not be mine, but that doesn’t make either of our choices about how “more” is defined wrong.   In the end, “more” is about listening less to what other people tell you and more to what your heart, mind and spirit tell you.  If you listen to yourself, and work to pay attention to what is being said, you’ll learn that ”more” is pretty  easy to define. 

 The moment you’ve learned that, you’ve taken the first step on the road to settling for more. 

Beginning a new blog, particularly a personal blog, is an interesting thing.  I’ve written blogs in other places for other purposes, but they were usually about a specific subject, and generally part of a job I was doing.  I’ve written a lot of personal stuff as well but that was always in journals and for my eyes only.  It’s safe writing that way, because you know the only one who will see it is you.  The thing is, I’m not sure I want to be safe anymore.

There’s a reason this blog is called Settling for More.  Most of my life I’ve been told that I should settle for less.  No one is ever totally happy with their job, I was advised when I expressed the idea that, if you’re going to work for money, you should at least do something that challenges and interests you.  Everyone makes compromises in relationships, I was informed, when I asked why people stayed with partners that clearly made them unhappy.  Whoever said “Most people live lives of quiet desperation” appeared to have the right of it.  Everywhere I looked there seemed to be people who were settling for less, and being quietly unhappy about it.

I’m now 38.  Over the past years I’ve built a life of moderation, settling for something that was reasonably pleasant, certainly not unpleasant, but not what I’d dreamed or hoped my life would be.  Then one day the idea of settling for more popped into my head.  Was it possible, I wondered, to build a life based on going for every goal you had and refusing to settle for anything less than the best?  What would the benfits be of living such a life and what, if any, would be the drawbacks?  What would happen if one 38 year old woman, who had built a safe and reasonably pleasant life, resurrected all the dreams and ambitions she’d had in her younger days and went for every one of them? 

This blog is the place where I will chronicle my attempts to find out what settling for more entails.  It’s also the place where I’ll talk about why I settled for less for so long, and what made me finally realize that I wanted to settle for more.  I’m sure this will also be the place where I rant and rail about the things that upset and puzzle me, as well as the place where I crow over the things that make me happy and amuse me. 

I’m in the lead car at the top of the roller coaster, and the trip ahead is sure to have both peaks and valleys.  I’m guessing some of the time I’ll be screaming with my hands in the air, and probably, occasionally, I’ll be scared and wondering why I’m taking this ride at all.  The one thing I can guarantee is that whatever happens is sure to be interesting. 

In the end I know, whatever happens, that I’ll be glad I took the ride.