I was ready for a night of musical exploration. I’d never heard of any of the artists, but it was better that way.

I was pleasantly surprised, however, when the performances started tugging at my heartstrings — songs so open and honest that my connection to the sounds quickly blurred into my connection with the sentiment and what was going on behind the music.

Amber Rubarth, the evening’s headliner, was the only person behind us in line as we trickled in late — her friendly smile reminding me how artists are not simply untouchable performers, but real people, too. Our moment of introduction reignited my love for small concert halls where the artists themselves man their merch booths, where you can see the cash you’ve handed them for their albums go straight into their pockets.

Though we arrived near the end of the first set, we managed to snag some seating — rather uncomfortable chairs you’d more likely find in your high school cafeteria than a lounge-like music venue — and settle in for the show.

The warm glow of the faintly lit stage, the rusticness of the dark-wooded interior and an audience of friends, family and warmhearted supporters paired nicely with the acoustics.

With no expectations, the music could only go uphill. Luckily, it nearly skyrocketed out of this atmosphere.

I sat there for just over 3 hours (thankful for any kind of chair at that point), fighting back fatigue, taking it all in and appreciating the honesty, humor and, to a degree, humility of everyone who went on stage — Ryan Auffenberg, Jim Bianco and finally, Amber.

I forgot how deeply music could touch me, make me think, and actually make me laugh.

I wasn’t blown away by deeply philosophical lyrics — you know, the kind that make your brain turn over and over while you play the song on repeat. But the songs were real. They were thoughtful. They were emotional. And that I could appreciate.

This longer-than-usual-but-worth-the-under-eye-circles-the-next-morning show made me realize that music is just another form of entrepreneurialism. They’re putting themselves out there as a business. It just so happens this business comes with a guitar, piano or stand-up bass in hand. They are working just as hard and taking small, but frequent steps to get to where they want to be. They’re making their dreams happen, no matter how hard it is to be on the road. They know and accept that they have to start out on Greyhound before they can have their own tour bus.

It made me recognize that singer-songwriters must wear their hearts on their sleeves. With so many songs about loss, change and transition, they have to revisit their vulnerabilities each time they perform, and sing them with the same amount of passion as when the wounds were fresh. It’s an occupational hazard … or perhaps it’s a blessing.

It made me think: how can we learn from the light, the happy, the joy and the pleasure, not just the dark, the sad, the heartbreak and the pain? And how can we remember both the positive and the negative — see the whole picture — when making serious judgments about love, about friends, about life?

It made me realize that music may not exist without heartbreak, but also made me wonder when it’s right to call something love. How do you navigate the notion that previous loves may not really have been love? Maybe they were simply learning experiences to build up your resilience and emotional intelligence.

Singer-songwriters put themselves out there, put their lives to music and passionately share it with everyone who is willing to listen.

What if we all did a little bit more sharing, more candidness, more thinking-out-loud and less holding back of thoughts, ideas, love and kindness?

Image via Creative Commons

The weekend, while enlightening, also decidedly startled me. I realized what is completely missing from our conversations about sexual health: passion and pleasure.

We are lucky enough to be among the few species that can actually enjoy sex because it feels good, and perhaps take for granted that we don’t have to fight for survival when making love with a partner. And yet, we continue to omit from the sex education conversation our innate, normal and healthy drive to be sexual, and rarely celebrate our ability to bask in the pleasure in the first place.

The result? Teens don’t realize that their feelings of love, lust, arousal and perhaps even mind-blowing passion are normal, and they aren’t equipped with the tools to navigate their developing emotional intelligence. Instead, the current education models are telling them they’re broken, weird and shouldn’t be feeling that way about sex, let alone be having it. And they’re reaching out for answers in all the wrong places.

We can be sex positive without being sluts, and yet that message gets completely lost, or ignored, in nearly all forms of sex education.

To foster positive sexuality in younger generations, we need to talk to kids comprehensively and openly about sex and provide them with resources that allow them to make informed decisions about their sexual encounters.

Full disclosure about contraception, STIs and testing, how you get pregnant (and what your options are if you do) and even information not typically covered in sex education, like anal sex and definitions of slang terms, are imperative to creating this open dialogue. But what about education that goes beyond intercourse and the protection of your parts from disease and babies?

Currently, sex education in the states evokes feelings of fear and risk, whether it’s abstinence-only or liberals’ attempt to be all-encompassing. We emphasize all the bad and scary things that can happen from sex, without discussing the facts that:

1. Most often, you have sex because it feels good — not just to procreate — and that masturbation is an important form of learning what turns you on, especially for women. And,

2. The deliciously out-of-control feelings of sex can sometimes rise to a climax that overwhelms our rationality, our good sense, and even our values. Feelings by which teens may be more surprised and unsure how to navigate than the physical p-in-v (…or p-to-p or v-to-v) action itself. Feelings that make it difficult to understand what you need to do to remain in charge of your own sex life until you’ve been there and done that.

The second point is often one of the sides abstinence-only education fights — the idea that sex is too powerful, thus you should only ever have it with one person … your spouse. And while it ignores the physical mechanics all together (because, you’re not having it anyway, right?! [face palm]), it’s at least giving the emotional side a chance (mind you, with overwhelmingly huge blinders on) most “liberal” sex education (that focuses prominently on condoms! birth control! penises! vaginas! and the like) doesn’t.

Both sides, however, are still missing the mark.

Instead of being judgmental, unapproachable, assuming extremes and emphasizing dangers, we need to validate the normalcy in the way teens are feeling, help them sort through their levels of sexual readiness and acknowledge that developing sexual autonomy is just another way in which teens mature.

Part of developing a healthy sexuality is knowing the difference between healthy and unhealthy relationships, knowing what feelings are normal and age-appropriate and how to deal with and talk about them, and knowing your insides — your personal values, what physically makes you feel good and how to speak up for both. The healthier our sexuality, the more conscious our choices will be.

Of course, we need to continue educating our younger generations (as well as ourselves!) about the potential risks of sexual behaviors and how to avoid them, but in an ongoing conversation that doesn’t just stop there.

Youth are sexual beings just like the rest of us. Let’s help them celebrate and accept who they are without judgment, without alienation and without secrets.

Also published on BitchBuzz.com, a refreshing lifestyle website for women that spotlights the best in style, food, sex, technology and everything in between.

Main image via Tom Kemp Starley’s Flickr

When I think about marriage, about the thought of spending the rest of my life with one person, I continuously wonder: what does it take to devote yourself mentally, physically and emotionally to one soul … forever?

My parents divorced when I was six, and I grew up with my mom’s boyfriends walking in and out of my life. I wasn’t raised in a functional version of “forever,” nor have I since encountered a seasoned marital relationship — through friends or family — I want to emulate.

We all know that divorce rates are insanely high, that only 50% of (first) marriages last anymore, and that the institute of marriage itself is a tradition that pre-dates recorded history, when human lifespans were half of what they are today. “Forever” wasn’t nearly as long then, and the meaning and social issues married couples face now versus way back when is like comparing a blow-up doll to the real thing: there is no comparison.

I think the problem lies in our societal assumption that after marriage, our lives are only devoted to one person, or to one + a family. That you and your life partner then have to focus heavily on building a life together — moving into (and potentially buying) a (bigger) home away from where your other friends live and where it’s more appropriate to raise kids.

That then, you are each others’ lives. There’s less focus on the continuous building of your friend network and sense and strength of community. That your life partner has to provide you with absolutely everything: he is your go-to emotional support and air bag; he is your best friend and constant companion; he is your partner in crime; he may even be your business partner.

Providing emotional and intellectual support, having similar core values and senses of adventure, and being able to communicate openly and candidly are imperative to a healthy and lasting relationship. And yet, in the process of valuing those things and the relationship itself, we can’t let slip away those people who have helped shaped who we are. It’s in letting that happen that too much pressure builds on the relationship to be absolutely everything — performance anxiety that can slowly erode the connection you felt when you first fell in love.

All of a sudden, your partner is the person with whom you’re over-analyzing the little things that don’t really matter — the things your best girlfriend would have talked through with you; the person on whom you take out your frustration or who feels the brunt of your bad moods.

You shouldn’t have to give up everything you know, everyone else you love, for one person, for an “idealized” life together. Lifetime commitment and partnership should be about the integration of two independent lives and adding your union to the whole community versus isolating yourself from it.

When you can incorporate your community as one more important piece to what supports your relationship, to what helps make it work — when you can balance the just us with the energy of everyone, then it’s easier to look “forever” straight in the eye, with a smile and ever-growing excitement, knowing that for the journey on which you’re embarking, you’ll never be alone, even in the absence of the one you truly love.

It takes a village, right?

Photo courtesy of Flickr user Niffty.. via CreativeCommons

For one, that even people over six feet tall can touch their toes. (So yes, that means you can, too, with enough practice and encouragement.)

One night, one lesson, one nugget of insight stands out in particular, though.

Usually overflowing with bad jokes we can’t help but laugh at, my yogi was overflowing with wisdom, sharing with us his tidbits of knowledge as we struggled through Baddha Parivritta Parshvakonasana. His words became my mantra for the next hour — mostly just so I wouldn’t forget to write down what he said.

He prefaced by telling the story of our generation’s Bobby Fischer, about how his winning strategy was simply that he wasn’t afraid of losing. Why was my yogi talking about chess when we’re supposed to be in a serene state of meditation? At the time, he was trying to make his point that we shouldn’t worry about hitting the floor when we attempt to do, say, Parivritta Ardha Chandrasana; about challenging ourselves to do our poses right and do what might feel unnatural and uncomfortable. That if we stop worrying about what could happen (falling into the person next to you creating a domino effect throughout the room, not catching your own fall, etc.), what should happen will fall into place.

Being the sweaty, contemplative and inward-thinking mess I was at the time, his point really stuck with me. And I kept coming back to it then. And I keep coming back to it now.

We can’t be afraid of losing.

We can’t let fear stand in the way.

The fear of falling down — the distrust of our own resilience and the lack in confidence that we can steadily and successfully pick ourselves back up again — can too easily hold us back from taking the leaps that can, and will, propel our lives forward. Looking that fear in the face and acting in spite of it can open you up to self-defining moments you may have never experienced otherwise.

This wisdom has since gently guided me to consciously make changes in how I’m choosing to live my life — subtle or otherwise — and be more open to unhesitatingly accept the change that involuntarily comes my way.

How?

Routine.

Perfecting the balance between the new and the old, the present and the future, comfort and anxiety. When we fear losing what we know and what is comfortable, we are simultaneously not letting live and closing doors to a whole other set of memories, experiences and opportunities.

In moving out of an apartment that feels so comfortable, in a place that felt so grounding, so much like home, and in leaving behind a routine to which I’d grown accustomed, I’ve let in so much more than I could have had I stayed snugly settled in a pattern that for two years had been creating a mediocre level of happiness.

Trying something new.

The more you have to lose, the harder it is to take risk, to swallow it, to rationalize it. But if you can feel the fear and do it anyway, you’ll learn something about yourself by just having taken the risk, in its success, in its failure — or some enlightening combination of the three.

While they officially defined it back in 2003, and other dictionaries even earlier, the news is only now receiving hype thanks to a post on (uber conservative) World Net Daily on Tuesday.

While the redefinition doesn’t provide homosexuals with the rights they need to actually get married in the 48 states (Massschusetts & Connecticut excluded) that currently do not recognize the marriage like the dictionary, it brings up an interesting point: who — or what — actually determines what marriage means?

While the state holds the power to grant you or deny you the “privilege,” are we really still basing human rights on laws instituted in ancient Rome and the Theodosian Code?

Please, people. But thanks, Merriam-Webster, for jumping on the bandwagon and giving us another excuse to bring this matter of civil rights back to the forefront.

Merriam-Webster:
(2): the state of being united to a person of the same sex in a relationship like that of a traditional marriage [same-sex marriage]

American Heritage (revised back in 2000!):
“A union between two persons having the customary but usually not the legal force of marriage: a same-sex marriage.”

Oxford English:
A draft written about a month ago leans toward including a revision that refers to “long-term relationships between partners of the same sex.”

Photo via CreativeCommons

Today was a momentous day in history for many reasons, but after watching the Obamas dazzle everyone at their inaugural ball, it made me think: Today marks a victory for America. For Democrats. For the world, even. But with Michelle Obama officially the First Lady, today is also a huge day for tall women everywhere! Finally, we have a tall, elegant, fashion-forward woman to look up to who’s not a supermodel, but rather, a role model.

What I love about Michelle Obama is the fact that she doesn’t shy away from fashion risk — from clothes or from heels, despite the fact that her husband is only a couple inches taller than her own 5-11 statuesque frame. She stands tall no matter what.

So, to my fellow tall female comrades: if you have been waiting for that extra boost of confidence to make you throw on your favorite pair of 4-inch heels without hesitation, this is it!

At tonight’s inaugural ball, our First Lady rocked not only a floor-length Jason Wu gown, but shoes that put her almost higher than eye-to-eye with 6-foot-almost-2-inch President Obama.

What does tell all the millions watching? (Amongst other things:) Don’t fret if you might be an extra inch, two or three taller than your date, your man, your husband. It’s all about how you carry yourself. And if you can carry yourself like Michelle Obama, well then, what are you worried about? Glide. Own it.

Photo courtesy of AP Photo