comfort zone – hannah ananas

Limits

“Life begins at the edge of your comfort zone,” so often declared my German professor in college. She was quoting roughly Neale Donald Walsch (It seems he said it first, anyway), of course, and she was saying it as a means of encouraging us to be uncomfortable and to speak German anyway. But it stuck with me beyond just that class. Here I am, 12 years later, and I still reference the quite and idea regularly.

Tonight, I stepped beyond my comfort zone by joining a service event that involved working in a sort of soup kitchen help staff role… not a comfortable thing for me in the first place. And it required a lot of me that is nigh on painful for me emotionally. I did adjust and shift a bit within the flexibility of the volunteering, so as to be of service without freaking out. However, I was still very much outside of my comfort zone in terms of my OCD. Many of my limits were hit.

Even the dinner we had together after the service required me to step beyond my comfort zone on multiple levels with the OCD.

And I had a very enjoyable time as a whole.

And I was uncomfortable for a lot of it.

But I adjusted, and it got less uncomfortable. By the end of the evening, I was genuinely comfortable. Looking back on it all – and act that alone gives me discomfort due to the circumstances of the service and dinner – I am impressed at how comfortable I ended up being in both locations and in driving between them. I won’t get into details, because that just helps to bring on the panic. However, I’ll add just that I impressed myself. I found a place of ease within myself as I did these things this evening, these things that, even considering doing, give me anxiety and stress. I almost didn’t go at all tonight, for that reason. But it felt right.

And that feeling was right. It was life, asking to be lived. And I did. And it scared me. And I’m so glad I went.

(And now, due to the OCD, I must set aside any clear memories I have of details, in order to be able to function the rest of the week!)

Thank you, God, for this evening’s events and developments. Thank you for helping me find a way to be of service. Thank you for helping me find a space of belonging and of being truly welcome tonight. And thank you for the innumerable blessings you have graciously planted in my life. And thank you for the story shared by Matthew Perry – May it help people as I believe it truly can. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. In your name, I pray. Amen.

Post-a-day 2023

“$1500 for a leather bustier?”

“It lifts and separates. Plus, it’s not like I’m actually paying for it.”

Well, I have taken two half steps regarding my by Christmas goals and intentions and its addendum. While not undergarments per se, I procured today, somewhat unexpectedly but with much delight and enthusiasm, a leather corset. Yes, corsets are kind of instead of a bra, but this one is of the style to be worn on the outside of one’s clothing or, simply, as one’s clothing. Think steam punk kind of corset. Heart shaped neckline, green alligator print center panel, and dark green, smooth leather for the rest of it, with tarnished silver clasps in two columns in the front and laces in the center back.

And oh, my gosh, does it look amazing. On me, I mean.

We were at RenFest, and I had just wanted to try the styles on to see how I liked the idea of, one day, getting a leather corset for myself. I always saw this blue and black one on the front gate of this particular shop, and kind of longed for it or something like it in my life.

So, after much hesitation and working through if mental struggled, I asked if we needed to have on a shirt to try on the corsets – all other women had been in blouses, so far as I had seen, and my piece-of-leather top would not work with a corset. When the answer was an emphatic negatory, I asked if I could go ahead and try one on, then, and if someone would dress me in it. The man who had originally stared conversation with me about the shop and its/his family told me that I absolutely could and that he could help dress me. So, he did. And he did a wonderful job.

I loved the straight-across one I tried first. Actually, it was second, because the first straight one was actually too large. He was clear about that quite quickly, when the laces went all the way in, almost immediately. But, once I got the next size down, I found that I liked the straight one on me.

I spoke up, however, and requested to try on the other shape just to see it on me, too, even though they’d said it tended to be more of a style worn by bustier women, a group of which I am certainly not part. They thought there were none around in my size, but the one guy came walking up with two in his hands – they had been on front display, and so hadn’t been tested at all or purchased. A blue and a green one. The blue was very much the blue of a friend of mine, and not my liken of blue. The green was an earthy, olive-y green. I selected the green to try, though after hearing my mom’s opinion and hat of the shopkeeper’s. When he had finished lacing me into it, and I turned to look myself over in the mirror, I was somewhat shocked. Not only did it look nice on me, it looked gooood. Kind of to the point that a small part of me wondered who else – beside myself – had a sudden urge to grab me and rip my clothes off of me in a fit of instant and utter desire and lust. It looked that good. I looked that good.

I knew I wanted it. I knew I wanted to be the person who would wear it confidently and proudly, yet humbly and gratefully. As it would be a significant investment, however, I took my time considering whether to purchase this one, here and now, or to wait for another time, even possibly to have one custom-made instead. To consider whether this green would be as much of a delight as my earlier-desired brown.

While I considered, several women, eyes bulging when they registered me, commented supporting comments to me or near me about the corset on me. The shopkeeper kindly informed me that 1) several women had said I needed to get the corset, and that 2) I looked spectacular in it. He was being genuine, and it meant a lot that had had given his personal opinion, as I knew he was not just trying to be flirtatious or just sell something.

Seeing as how it was actually quite cold out, I eventually removed the corset, and dressed back in my leather too and skirt and faux-fur cloak to finish considering with a not-shaking body and a warm conscience. Once dressed again, I could think more clearly. I wanted first to see the dark green leather in the sunlight. I wanted to confirm that it stood out as clearly not-black in sunlight. I’m not a black person. Earthy tones and natural tones galore, sure, but not black.

The second thing was the tougher thing. I told my mom, ‘I have a small part in me that worries I will be slutty, a slut, and whore in this,’ and, ‘I think I just need to be told that it is okay and safe for me – for me – to wear this.’ Due to my history with certain men, there is still a part of me that is scared with things like this. While I am always gentle with her, I always acknowledge what she has to say before firmly telling her what’s truly so. When my mom said what I felt I needed to hear – though I already knew it to be true – that scared girl within me calmed down, and I finally was able to choose freely for myself.

Naturally, I chose the corset.

And, boy, am I glad I did. I can hardly wait to wear it.

Post-a-day 2021

What scares you…

In college, I took on a challenge for a short while to do at least one things every day that scared me. The goal was to challenge the box of my comfort zone, and to experience life more fully than I had been so far. I learned that doing “something that scared me” didn’t mean that I had to do something dangerous or stupid, like climb the side of a tower. Fear doesn’t exist only at its most extreme level. Often, the scary task I took on was as simple as asking someone a question, or admitting that I do not know something people think I know or expect me to know.

One day, it was trying out a longboard. I have tried skateboarding on my own several times. Each time has been more advanced than the previous, but each time has ended in a very painful fall…, leaving me quite uninterested in the sport for at least a couple years. However, I have always wanted to learn to be comfortable with skateboarding. One day on campus, I was walking across one of the courtyards, and found myself watching someone longboard, and chatting with a couple people. The longboard guy offered for me to try it out. I was about to decline the offer, until I noticed that the reason was because I am afraid. And so, I told him about my current daily goal, that I was terrified of the longboard and why (also something that was scary to express, because being afraid of a skateboard is not something I am exactly proud of declaring), and then I asked if he could help with that fear.

His response was perfect. He was sweet and kind, and totally understanding. His attitude alone eased most of my fear. He gave me wonderful tips and advice for how to do the longboard, and even held onto me for a bit, so I could get the feel for it, before going at it alone. It was fabulous. Both the feelings of going beyond my fear and that of riding the longboard were spectacular, and I was incredibly grateful for the experience.

And I wouldn’t have had that experience if I hadn’t consciously taken on doing at least one thing every day that scared me. I haven’t been doing it daily anymore, but I make a real effort to notice when fear is stopping me in my daily life activities. Sometimes, I still do not succeed in doing that thing that scared me. Oftentimes, however, I find myself pulling through, and it almost always turns out wonderfully.

Today was one of those times, where I did something that really scared me, and which embarrassed me just a bit that I was scared of it. But I did it, and it turned out wonderfully… and it might get even better with time, too. Today’s was a good one. A really good one. 🙂

As my German teacher later quoted to us constantly, “Life begins at the end of your comfort zone.” (Neale Donald Walsch, I believe) It truly does. It truly does. 🙂

Post-a-day 2017