Posted in Random Thoughts, Teaching

Happy Teacher Appreciation Week

So it’s Wednesday of teacher appreciation week, and I’m sitting here feeling more humbled and appreciated than I have in a really long time.  Is it because of all of the snacks we’ve gotten?  The pay raise? (HA!)  Nope.  It’s because of the love I’m feeling from students past and present, and the memories that I hold dear.

Unfortunately, there are people out there who don’t see the actuality of what we do.  I was discussing with family how stressful teaching is.  How there are plenty of teachers who come into this profession and end up on the verge of mental breakdown, that end up on antidepressants and anti-anxiety medication to help regulate their moods.  How we strive to make a difference in our students’ lives, often at a great cost to ourselves.  And their response?  “I have no pity for any of you.  You knew what you were doing.  It’s just a job.  You have a degree.  You could get a different job.  If it’s so bad, quit.”

But isn’t that it?  Do you want teachers in your buildings who lack the capacity to empathize with the whole child?  Do you want teachers who are here for a paycheck and couldn’t care less about the student and their situation.  Do you want teachers who stand idly by while a student is going through a crisis.  Do you want someone who won’t give a hug or helpful advice because it might cause them to care too much?

I don’t understand that mentality.  Sure, getting another job might be a possibility, but as someone who is in the business of trying to help students realize the great variety that life has to offer once they leave these halls, is that the message we want to send?  That it’s just a paycheck at the end of the day, and that we can always just move on if the stress gets to be too much?

Instead, why can’t we help the people in this profession feel better.  Provide them with access to mental health professionals.  Give us opportunities to destress and enjoy all that teaching has to offer.  Give us the ability to take time to get to know our kids and share some of what we enjoy with them, instead of the constant bombardment of data collection points and curriculum standard numbers.  Don’t shun people for needing help to shoulder all that teaching entails.  Because it entails a lot.

I’d rather have people fully equipped and willing to handle all it comes with, than someone who is cold and reduces it down to nothing more than a number and a paycheck.

But what do I know?

My choice in life was to be a teacher…

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Posted in Motherhood, Random Thoughts

A New Journey

I have never had the best relationship with food.  I love it.  I’m sure I love it a bit too much.  I like to eat.  I like to try new foods.  I try not to worry too much about calories, as long as it tastes good.  And that has lead me down a path that I know I’m not happy in.  I love myself as much as I can, which is to say not nearly enough as I deserve.  I think that I’m witty.  I’m easy to get along with.  I try to be someone that people like to talk to.  But all of that means nothing when I look in the mirror and am disgusted by what I see.  Okay, maybe not disgusted, but certainly not pleased.  I never thought I was vain before, but when I found that I had skin cancer on my nose, all of that sort of changed.  And now I notice it.

I think I have a skewed sense of what I actually look like as well.  I look at me and am sometimes more comfortable.  But then I see a picture, and it all comes crashing down.  Like how people with eating disorders always see themselves as fat.  I always see myself as not quite as fat as I actually am.  And I really need to do something about it.

I don’t think that diets work for me.  I get grumpy.  My husband tells me that I’m not someone he likes to be around when I’m trying to restrict my calories.  I don’t blame him.  I don’t want to be around me either when I’m doing that.

So what am I doing?  Well, I’ve been seeing the ads for Noom online for a while now.  I’ve taken their quiz thing a couple of times.  And now I’m going to give it a try.  Here I am, on day four.  238 lbs of me.  And maybe by the time I’m done, I’ll be a few pounds lighter.  Maybe I’ll have a better relationship with food.  But most importantly, maybe I’ll have a better relationship with myself.

Maybe.

 

Posted in Random Thoughts, relationships, Teaching, Uncategorized

Another Year Come and Gone

It’s been a while since I sat down to write about things. This year has been a roller coaster for me emotionally, and it has been rather hard for me to think of it all and put it all down on digital paper, as it were.

I don’t know that there weill be any rhyme or reason to the blog I am going to post. I’m not sure if it will make any sense, other than to me, and I think I’m okay with that. I don’t believe that I will ever be a famous blogger. I won’t make a ton of money pouring my heart out to strangers about the things that matter to me most. And I am okay with that.

Anywho.

We had graduation yesterday evening. It was the second class of students that I have seen all the way from their freshman year to their senior year. Chances are it will be the last class of students that I will have that will do that. That in and of itself is enough to cause me emotional distress. If there is one thing that I have loved in my life more than being a mother, it is knowing that I have been trusted with the care of other people’s children. Even for a few months out of the year, I am blessed to be a part of these kids’ lives, and I get to watch them grow and transform.  And nothing has been as satisfying as watching my kids grow from lanky, awkard freshemen, to more awkward seniors.

One of my students burst into tears as we waited for graduation to start. I pulled him close and gave him a hug, reminding him that this was not the end for any of us. In some way, I think that those were the words that I most needed to hear, and so I shared them with him.

He had much to overcome this year. He battled with some internal demons only to come out of them on the other side, hopefully happier and healthier for it.  I like to think that I have done the same.

It doesn’t really matter what I teach next year. It doesn’t matter if I don’t get to call these kiddos my own. It doesn’t matter if I gain the ire of an administrator or a parent for a few moments. Because I know, that deep down, I have made a difference.

Each year, I have my senior kids write a letter, talking about where they think that they have grown and changed. Inevitably, it becomes a letter to me about what they have learned in my class and how much they are going to miss me.

The words they left me with this year brought me to tears. And yet, they are happy ones. They will serve as a reminder in the days, weeks, months, and years to come that I was here and I made a difference.

And so, Class of 2017, I want to thank you. Thank you for going on this journey with me. Thank you for letting me inch a small part of myself into your lives. Thank you for touching my life in ways that I never thought possible. I am so very proud of each and every one of you. I know that you will go far and do great things.

Maybe one day you’ll actually help me open my bookstore. How cool would that be?

Posted in Motherhood, Random Thoughts, relationships, Uncategorized

Oh great, another fat girl post.

Yeah, I know. You’re sick of hearing about the body positivity movement. Because really, body positivity? You mean Obesity Apologists. Or Obesity Glorification. Am I right? How dare fat people, especially fat women, think that it is okay to flaunt their fat all over town? Don’t they know that it’s unhealthy? Not only that, but it offends my eyes! How dare they make me look at them!

Okay, please don’t take that seriously. And I know, you probably are sick about hearing about body positivity. But it’s still a problem. Here’s why.

This exact picture popped up in my news feed on Facebook. And sure, I agree that neither of these extremes are healthy. But what really bothered me were the comments on it. People blaming fat people. People talking about how disgusting those people are. Comments on how lazy fat people are, and how they just need to put the sandwich down.

Sure, some people have these problems because they can’t stop eating. But I find it hard to believe that it is simply that easy. If it was, why would so many Americans be considered overweight? I know all sorts of people who are overweight, and none of them sit there and stuff their faces all day.

Instead, the people who I know, and the person I am, seem to think that there is no way to fix the problem. Because it is a problem. We know it’s a problem. But there are often too many things to do in the day and not enough time to take care of ourselves.

And why would we take care of ourselves? We are told that we are less than. We are told that even though we may be “beautiful on the inside,” we are trapped within these bodies that will make sure that no one cares about our personalities. Why would you fix something you hate? You’d much rather tear it down or let it rot.

And even if people don’t constantly tell us that we’re not worthy of being considered human, they don’t have to. When was the last time that you saw a girl bigger than a size 8 on a TV show playing the romantic lead? When was the last time that she was anything mroe than the comic relief, or the good friend? Maybe she’s the drunk girl. But skinny girls? Even if they’re underweight, we see them as salvagable, as worthy of love.

So yeah, I don’t think that this picture is an accurate representation. Neither of those things is a good thing, but one of them is always seen as better. But you know what’s best? Loving who you are regardless of the outer trappings. Put work into the house that you love. Know that it is worthy of working on. Don’t let other people tear you down. Remember, you are more than just your body. You are a whole person who has feelings, desires, dreams, and goals.

I may not always love myself, but I know that I am worth fighting for. I have a son and a husband that I want to be around for. I want to feel strong and beautiful. And when I make those changes, it won’t be because other people have made me feel ugly and fat. It will be because I love me, and I want to be around for as long as possible. Body positivity means believing that you have the strength to do anything, including rebuilding the foundations of your “fixer-upper.”

 

Posted in Random Thoughts

Within these Walls

Often I think about the impact that a teacher makes on her classroom.  I think I’ve written about it more than once.

It’s hard to express what happens to your heart as a teacher.  What happens with every group of students that enters your classroom. About the joy and love that you feel for them. About the guilt that you may feel when you finally decide that you may need to take a step back and try something else.

As a freshman, I remember her sitting there in the back corner of the class, obviously troubled.  Who was I to kid? They were all troubled in their own little ways.  But that day, she seemed more out of tune than any other. Another of my students went to her and they talked in hushed whispers about whatever it was that was going on in her life. As class ended, I saw her place a razor blade in the other girl’s hand, taken from concealment in her pencil pouch. I didn’t embarass her with her obvious shame. I went and told the counselor.  They committed her for a day or two, and when she came back, she thanked me.  Thanked me for caring enough to say something, for making her parents notice, even just for a moment.

***

I was standing in the hallway, watching the traffic jam of students that spread like the tentacles of an amoeba. All of a sudden, she raced around the corner, tears in her eyes, and she looked at me and asked simply, “Can I please just have a hug?”  I wrapped my arms around her, and she cried, never telling me what it was that had caused her tears.  I didn’t need to know.  And she didn’t need to talk about it.  She just needed someone to hold her so that she didn’t feel so alone with her tears.

***

It was two years after she had graduated.  She came back to visit, bright eyed and bushy tailed.  She loved everything about the college she was attending.  It had never been better. But then she stopped and looked at me seriously.  “I don’t think I ever told you how glad I was to have you as a teacher.  How much you helped me through that first year.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and I found my own composure cracking. “You may not have known it, but you were the best teacher I ever had.” I cried there in front of her, and she cried too, and we laughed through the tears at the rediculousness of it all.

***

He had graduated the year before.  I hadn’t taught him in four years, but I remember his freshman year well.  The one day when the girl said something to set him off.  Anger flared in his eyes, this man trapped in a boy’s body.  He yelled and railed against whatever invisible daemon he was fighting, fist meeting the metal of my filing cabinet one, two, three times, leaving knuckle dents that still grace its surface twelve years later.  I was scared for him, scared for us.  The year ended, and I never knew what had happened to him to make him so full of emotion.  But talking with another teacher I learned that he was living in shelters, bouncing from one place to the next.  His constant companions were rats and mice and hunger.  He never knew where he was going to end up next or where his next meal would come from.  I see his smiling face in my Facebook feed, a member of the military, all traces of that life seemingly gone from him, save for the small glint in his eye that speaks of things from that other time.

They run together sometimes, the stories that have come and go from the lips and fingers of my students.  One student in jail because he murdered someone.  Other students lost along the way.  One shot at gunpoint.  A few married with kids.  Some still struggling to make ends meet. Others flourishing.  And I know that maybe in some way, they all remember me just a little.  I remember them.  I may not remember a name, but a face and a story, that will always be there.

And so if I walk away from this classroom, find that choices have taken me someplace else, I will take those memories with me.  A stack of drawings given freely.  The Christmas picture of my class and me, hugging and smiling.  The video of my seniors presenting songs and skits, some not appreciated nearly enough.  And I will look at them. And I will smile.  And I will try to remember, that I made a difference. Even if just for a moment.

Posted in Random Thoughts, relationships, Teaching

‘Tis The Season

It’s that time of year again, the one to reflect on the events of the past, the things we wish we had done, the things we wish we hadn’t done, and anything and everything that has made us think or feel anything over the past year.  Some people use it as a time of joyous reflection, others of morose despair. Me, I like to think of it as a mix of the two.

This year has been a lot of everything. I have a lot to reflect on. Who I am. What my life is like, and if I ever thought it would end up quite like this. Where am I going from here. What my career is going to be. Who am I going to be.

I look around my classroo mas I type this, knowign that this might very well be the last holiday season spent within these walls. I am met with a feeling of bitter sadness.  If there is anything in my life that I have loved outside of my blood family, it is this. This little corner of the building that I have carved out and made my own.

I look at my students, see their smiles, their strange quirks, and I love them for it. Even the one who tries to pretend like he’s writing but is really watching Gary’s Mod videos. Like, seriously, your computer screen is facing me. You aren’t fooling anyone.

And I am going to miss them.

You know, today, I got word from a couple of my students that their writing was chosen to be featured on an online website for young writers. How cool is that? Not that it matters to anyone but me, but dang, it makes me proud.

The year hasn’t been all bad, though. This has been the most amazing year with my son. He’s a little over one now, tottering around on his own two feet, making me laugh at every turn. I always knew I wanted to be a mother, but seeing him just solidifies it.

I don’t really know where I’m going with this article. Not that anyone reads this stuff to begin with. I just think that I needed to write something about what I’m thinking and feeling. -shrug-

I guess I’ll just sign this entry off here, for now.

 

Posted in Marriage, Motherhood, Random Thoughts, relationships, Teaching, Uncategorized

Happy Thanksgiving!

Ah yes. It is that time of year. The one where everyone gathers together and discusses what it is that they have to be grateful for. And while this year may not have been the best for most of us for one reason or another, I can honestly say that I think that there are at least a few things that we can be thankful for. And here is where I will post my list.

  1. I am thankful to have a wonderful family that loves and supports me even when I’m a pain in the butt. That includes my family and my husband’s family, who have really become one in the same since we got married.
  2. I am SO very thankful to have given birth to an amazing baby boy on the 21st of 2015. He has made this the most amazing year ever, even in the face of some of those other things that made the year not so great.  He is just the best little boy ever, and I love him more than anything in the entire world. ♥♥
  3. I am thankful for my students. They are my first children, and even though they are not children of my blood, they are children of my heart. Every day they amaze me with new things, and they encourage me to be a better person, whether they know it or not.
  4. I am thankful to have an amazing group of friends who I can call family. Even though we don’t all live close, I know that I can pick up the phone whenever and still be greeted by a cheerful hello.
  5. I am thankful that I have a home and a roof over my head, heat to keep me warm, and animals who love it when I come home.
  6. I am thankful that those that I love have the same things.
  7. I am thankful for the blessings of my nephews, the one that is blood related, and the one that isn’t. They’re both adorable, and I can’t wait to watch them grow up to be outstanding young men…hopefully along side my own little man.

I’m sure I could come up with more. But today, on this last day of work before I go on holiday break, I have to say, I feel more blessed and thankful than I have in a long time. I know that no matter what happens in the future, I come from a place of love, light, and warmth…and that I will give that same back to those around me.

May you all have a wonderful thanksgiving, filled with the people, places, and foods that you love. May the next year be as joyous as this one was, and may you all continue to be shining examples of what a good person is. Enjoy your turkey day!

Posted in Teaching, Uncategorized

And So It Goes

Normally I try to keep my posts about work upbeat and happy. I’m afraid this isn’t one of those posts.

Let me preface this story by saying that I absolutely love what I do. I may not have always thought it was the best, and there are days that I’d much rather be at home with my son than with a raving mad bunch of teenagers. But, all in all, it is a worthwhile job. One that I find rather fulfilling.

That being said, I think it may be time for a change. Maybe it wasn’t the time I was ready for, but perhaps it is the time that a higher power thinks I need. Time will tell.

I began teaching the fall after I graduated with my Bachelor’s degree in English. I actually had no idea what I wanted to do with my degree until I ran into my high school French teacher. She told me of a program that the local school system had that would send you to some classes over the summer, put you in the classroom in the fall, and eventually give you a free Master’s degree. I didn’t have anything else to do, and kismet lead me down this path. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain. So I applied, and was accepted. Looking back, part of me feels that it was probably a little bit because of my own teachers. My former French teacher was one of the mentors. My former calculus teacher, she was the lady in charge. If I had been someone else, I may not have gotten in at all. But they knew me, and I ended up joining the program, a bit more on track with a plan for my future.

I can’t say that my first year of teaching was anything but difficult. Not having any student teaching made the work even more complicated, but I persevered. Sure, my evaluations weren’t the greatest, but I was still learning, and I had a strong desire to learn. I wanted to get my whole body wet, not just my feet, and I ended up probably taking on more than I should have. I taught 9th grade English, both average and honors classes. One of my average classes was a collaborative class, which means that I had a large number of students with Individualized Education Plans, or IEPs, and that didn’t make the job any easier.

I remember having two kids almost get into a fight in my room that year. I remember being scared as the boy instead attacked one of my filing cabinets with his fist. The dents in that cabinet are still there, as is my memory of that student. There was much to learn about his situation in later years, and it still amazes me to this day that he was able to accomplish so much with his life. He’s currently in the military, and I keep up with him from time to time on facebook.

The next three years, I worked on my Master’s degree curriculum at night, and finished that degree work. My salary went up, and my responsibilities at work changed. I moved from 9th grade to 10th, and with the new curriculum came new challenges. But each year was more rewarding than the last. My students sometimes “hated” me, I always loved them, and we more or less ended the school years on a positive note. I had a few elective classes thrown in there as well, which helped to break up the monotony.

But then, in the 2011-2012 school year, I was thrown for a loop. I remember getting a phone call the Monday before I needed to be back at work…basically two full weeks before students were to show up. I wasn’t going to be teaching 9th grade, nor was I going to be teaching my 10th grade classes, or my electives. Instead, I was going to be teaching Creative Writing. Four sections of it. Each one different. The woman who had taught those classes the year before retired, and it was now my duty to take the program over from her.

I was scared. I scrambled that entire time I was back at work. I wondered what I was going to do. I had no idea how to teach Creative Writing. In fact, during my degree work, I had never even taken a class on Creative Writing. I had no idea what I was doing. On top of it all, the woman who retired left next to nothing to help me, and when I reached out, I got the minimum help back.

My classes that year were a struggle. I had three classes which had only known the other woman as their teacher. One class was completely new, but a vast majority of them had no interest in writing whatsoever. There were plenty of days that I went home crying that first year. I struggled to make it work, I worried that my teaching career was going to be over so soon. But struggle through I did, and I made it out the other side.

Years passed, and I finally got the hang of it all. I love my program more than anything else that I have ever done as an educator. I feel as if I finally make a difference. My students come back and tell me about the impact I have had on their lives. I see my same students every year…it’s no longer an “unknown” filled with fear. My classes are my home away from home, and they are my little school family. Before I had my own son, these kids were my children, my babies. It’s so much more than I ever thought it could be.

And that’s where it goes, itsn’t it? You get comfortable. You feel that you are finally doing the thing you are supposed to be doing, and then things get shaken up.

Last week, I was told that the classe that I had grown to love, were no longer going to be mine. I hadn’t done a good enough job with recruiting new students to the program, so a new teacher would be taking it over in my stead. Someone who has ideas. Someone who is good with PR.

And I broke down.

I knew that it wasn’t going to be a good meeting as soon as I got the email. I was a bundle of nerves, planning for the worst. And the worst wasn’t far from what happened.

No, I still get to teach, but I will be back to my old classes, teaching English once again. The students that I’ve grown to know and love won’t be my babies anymore. They’ll be with someone else while I watch from the sidelines.

And it hurts so much. And it scares me.

Because I believe, in some part, about fate. Perhaps I got too comfortable. Perhaps I loved something a little too much. And now, it is being torn from my arms.

Whither shall I go from here? I don’t know. Will I stay? Will I teach somewhere else, do something new? Perhaps I will find something else to take the burden of this memory from me.

Whatever I do, I will carry my love for this program with me every day. I will continue to seek out my former students. Continue to make the connections that were ever so important to me. And I will remember what it was like to once love what you do with ever fibre of your being.

I will miss all of my babies. I will mourn over my loss. But I will remember that it is never the end. The road keeps going ever onward. And I will keep on trudging along.

Posted in relationships, Teaching

Back to Work

Hey everyone! I apologize for the seemingly ridiculously long hiatus. I figured that I deserved to spend the summer with my son, and boy, was it amazing. He has grown so much in the past several months, and now more than ever am I convinced that being a mom was always something that I should be.

Now, however, I am back to the old heave ho, teaching my students once more. This year I have my four Creative Writing classes, but I also have College and Career Prep. This class is more or less a class to teach kids how to apply for colleges, and if they choose not to go that route, how to be an adult. My goal is to make the class interesting and relevant.

It’s funny, because one of the students in that class got into a pretty in depth conversation with me. We were having a study hall period, and the student asked me about having a house. She didn’t know that most people take out a home loan and have to pay on a mortgage for 30+ years.

How is it that we are trying to prepare high school students to be able to go out into the world, and they don’t even know things like that? I have seniors who have asked me to show them how to fill out a college application because they don’t know how to do that…and they’re supposed to go to college next fall. They don’t know how to fill out W-4s when they get jobs. They don’t know how to fill out a job application. They don’t know how much a car costs or what a livable wage even is.

So I’m going to try to teach them some of those skills. It boggles my mind that we try to make sure that they can regurgitate answers on a test, but we don’t make sure that they can do things that they will absolutely need to know later in life. No one is going to fill out loan paperwork for them. No one is going to do their taxes for them for free. They’re going to have to figure it out on their own, and even then, I think a lot of them will get it wrong.

In saying that, I pose a question to my readers. Is there anything that you felt that should have been taught in high school that wasn’t? Any sort of skill that is invaluable as an adult that you had to learn on your own through trial and error? I’m interested in seeing what you all think. Perhaps I can take some of those suggestions and put them into my curriculum.  Thanks for reading!

~Aly

Posted in Marriage, Random Thoughts, relationships, Uncategorized

The Communication Conundrum

If you’ve ever been in a relationship with anyone else, you know that sometimes communicating is the most difficult thing to do. We all have our own way of communicating, whether we’re more verbal or more physical, more emotional or more logical, more deal with it right now or deal with it later.

But what happens when your communication styles don’t mesh? How do you discuss things that bother you? Do you? How does anything ever get solved? And who ends up being the one to compromise, or do you both?

This is a problem that I have had numerous times. I can fully say that I’m an emotional communicator. I need to talk through my feelings, and sometimes, I don’t even want a solution. Most of the time, I just need to be heard. Look at me, listen to me, let me know that you’re understanding even a fraction of what I’m trying to say. And I can’t sit on something. The longer I wait to discuss something that bothers me, the more upset I get.

My husband, he’s quite the opposite. He likes to find solutions to things. He doesn’t want to hear about emotions, because emotions mean that you’re trying to manipulate. It’s illogical. If it doesn’t make sense, he can’t deal with it. And you’d better not try to talk about something for too long or too soon after the fact. He needs time and space.

As a couple, it’s one of the biggest issues that we’ve faced. None of the little spats that we have are really important in the long run. But the way that we handle them becomes the bigger problem. One of us has to give in. One of us has to compromise. And how to do that is still something that we struggle with to this day.

So how do you do it on your own? When do you decide that enough is enough, and we have to do things my way. Or his way? When do you find that middle ground and decide to settle things “our” way? If you’ve figured it out, please let me know. We’ve been married almost 8 years, and we’re still trying to figure it out.

However, there are a few things that I have learned over these 8 years. We’re not perfect people. We don’t always handle things the way that we should. And that’s okay. We’ve got the rest of our lives to figure it all out. But at least these first few things are a start.

  1. Don’t go to bed angry: Everyone says this, and you know what? There’s truth to it. I know if I go to bed feeling distressed, I wake up feeling distressed. The rest of my day is stressful. I can’t shake thinking about the events of the night before. I’m not as productive. I’m not as kind. I mentally check out and focus on the problem. And that is a problem. At least try to come to some conclusion before sleep. You’ll both feel better the next day because of it.
  2. Don’t blame, explain: I do a lot of reading, and it all says when you’re having an argument, to take responsibility for your own feelings. Don’t make your feelings your partner’s responsibility. You feel this way because of something. No one made you feel that way. There may be circumstances surrounding it, but no one made you feel that. It’s less of a pointing of fingers and more of a way to open up dialogue.
  3. Don’t insult: This is one of the things I hate the most when I fight with my husband. I take things out on myself with my emotions. I cry. I think I’m stupid. And when I try to explain the feelings I’m having, it makes my husband feel bad and he gets defensive. Sometimes, that means he brings up things or says things with the intention of hurting. If you think you’re going in that direction, stop and breathe. Take a moment to yourself. But hurting the other person never gets you anywhere.
  4. Remember that talking about these things now will save you pain in the future: Have you ever stored up something that was making you angry only to unleash it in an argument in which it had no place? It builds up and sits there, and then becomes ammo for your latest tirade. And that’s not good for anyone. While you may remember the incident crystal clear, chances are that it has faded for the other person in question. If you are irritated, bring it up when you’re irritated. Don’t wait for it to become a bigger problem than it is.
  5. Remember that this too shall pass: Nine times out of ten, the arguments that committed couples have are mild irritations. Feelings get hurt, people get defensive, and tempers flare. But that’s all it is. No one was ever married or committed and had a perfect relationship. People get on each other’s nerves, even when we’re in love. But know that it will fade into the background and that you’ll get back on the right path. Things will get better.

I know that there are probably more things, but I can’t think of them off of the top of my head. So help me out, will you? Are there any things that you’ve learned in being in relationships? How do you compromise? And how do you keep number 5 front in your mind when you’re feeling hurt? If you have any suggestions, write them in the comments. I look forward to hearing from you all!