An Open Letter to My 13-Year-Old Self: On African American History

Dear 13-year-old Erin,

 A couple things before I start on what I really wanted to tell you. The first is, great job growing out those bangs. Straight-across bangs were not a good look for you, so you acknowledged that and set forth to the task of getting rid of them. It took a while. But you got there. Also, don't worry that you've never been kissed. You won't meet anyone worth kissing until college anyway.

On to the more important topic: your recent report on Harriet Beecher Stowe, the author of Uncle Tom's Cabin. You've been reading voraciously for the last several years, lately with an emphasis on being well-read in the classics. You had heard about Uncle Tom's Cabin and To Kill a Mockingbird and many others along with reading Roll of Thunder,  Hear My Cry in eighth grade lit class. Have you read I Know Why the Caged Bird sings yet? I can't remember. If not, stick through the uncomfortable parts. It's worth it.

When the teacher assigned you to write a report about a person who is important in African-American history, you chose Harriet Beecher Stowe. This is an interesting choice, you. Harriet Beecher Stowe is not African-American. In fact, I believe Abraham Lincoln referred to her as the little White woman who started the Civil War.

I wish now that you had written about Sojourner Truth, or Harriet Tubman, or Dred Scott, or Phyllis Wheatley, or any number of other African-Americans with significance. But you didn't. You didn't know that what you understand now.

In your defense, as a White student at a primarily White school, you did take the assignment seriously, which apparently was more than most of your fellow students did. Rumor has it that the bulk of reports submitted for that class were actually plagiarized from the precursor to Wikipedia, or other Internet sources. You wrote a thoughtful commentary on the influence of a real person in your own words.

So, I wish that you had chosen someone else, but you did the best you could at the time. And I wonder, a little, 13-year-old self, if your choice was a significant one for you. Because here you were, a White student at a primarily White school, writing about how a White woman, albeit an imperfect one, albeit one with skewed views of slavery, albeit one who could have done more, who could have gone further, who wasn't of the community she represented, you chose a White person who took some responsibility for the oppression of another group. And that's something.

Well, I wish you had picked someone who represented the African-American community, you chose to see yourself somehow reflected in this history. I think, deep down, you wanted to see that this was your responsibility too. That it was unfair to expect African-Americans alone to make this change.

If you knew, 13-year-old Erin, what the next 15 years would hold, you couldn't have stood it. You would collapse under the weight of it all. We didn't. We survived so far. We found love, we found purpose, we found so much more than we could imagine. We didn't become a marine biologist or interior designer - we teach test prep. But most days, we're happy. Things are better.

And I think of you, and Harriet Beecher Stowe, and Maya Angelou, and To Kill a Mockingbird often. And how I learned from them the power of a story, in some cases a personal one, in some cases voicing the one someone else can't get noticed.

So keep reading voraciously. Keep that tender heart. Learn to forgive and give the benefit of the doubt. Practice gratitude. You are so much stronger than you think.

Blessings,

28-year-old self

Announcement/Confessions: A Big Move

Some of you saw that I re-posted MI Love: Detroit last night with a note that a big announcement is coming.

The TL;DR version is that Rebecca and I are trying to buy a house in Detroit.

We haven't closed yet. We spent the summer with an offer accepted on a lovely German Tudor in the University District only to have it fall through a few weeks ago. Since then, we've been looking at other houses, running numbers, asking each other what's a want and what's a need, and questioning decisions left and right.

Yesterday, our realtor managed to get us into five homes in three different neighborhoods. My in-laws came out to help. And we think we may have found a solid option.

You were promised confessions, and so here they are.

1. We've been working on this since springtime, and I didn't tell you.

A few of you knew, if I've seen you in person or via Facebook chat. I wanted to share our stories, but this journey has made me feel vulnerable in ways I didn't expect. I was afraid of telling what would turn into "five dollar stories" (ones with no real plot or resolution) before I knew the end. I was afraid that too many opinions would muddy my thoughts more than they already were. I was afraid that telling you about disappointments would make me sound ungrateful, when in reality the fact that we're buying a house feels like one of the biggest privileges in the entire world. And on that note . . .

2. I'm gloriously happy and tremendously terrified all at once.

Some of you know that I've wanted to live in the city for years - probably since 2008 or so (these excerpts from our dream jar back that up).

These notes are on slips of paper contained in our marriage "dream jar," where we put ideas for things we want to do in our lifetime. I think I started mine in 2008 or so; I'm not sure when Rebecca started hers. Edit: here's how to make a dream jar.

But somewhere along the line, maybe around the time I joined the Club of People to Whom the Unimaginable is Now Imaginable, it started seeming like dreams don't come true. And some don't. But some do if we fight for them. Someone once said something like, "Our biggest fear isn't that we're weak, it's that we're powerful beyond our wildest dreams." The fact that a long-term dream is coming true, that Rebecca and I have been able to make decisions to do this, has filled my heart with joy but also with additional fear - what else can I accomplish after this? what will that struggle look like? what if this doesn't go well? For as hard as the purchase of the house has turned out to be, it's probably the easy part, right?

3. I'm afraid of being seen as a White Savior -

Or coming to think of myself that way. I'm not a hero. I'm not a savior. In a lot of ways, it might be easier to buy a house and spend the rest of my life in a mostly White suburb, but I'm moving to Detroit at least partly for selfish reasons - because I've wanted to for years, because I love the neighborhoods, because the houses are more likely to have sleeping porches and studies and charm, because I'm afraid of being ordinary and of living my life wondering. Those reasons don't deserve accolades. I'm not going to fix or save the city. I'll settle for being part of any number of the initiatives already going on - Georgia St, Faith Farm, Central Detroit Christian CDC, Youthville, the Children's Center, Wayne State, U of D Mercy, Cabrini Clinic, and so many others I don't have time to mention.  I'm not moving to a deserted neighborhood to engage in permaculture off the grid (though people do and infinity props to them). I'm not trying to graduate from Detroit Public Schools. I'm not trying to hold onto a house I'm underwater on when my pension has been cut and my house hasn't been re-appraised. Like I said, I'm filled with joy, but I'm not brave.

There's so much more to say, but this is enough for now. I'll try to share more when I know more, and maybe I'll fill you in on the details of this story, now that the plot arc has become slightly clearer (perhaps). Thanks to all who have known and kept this to yourselves, who have encouraged and advised us, who have prayed and sent good vibes. You inspire me.

Confessions - TBT: Why I Haven't Posted

You might not have noticed - I didn't pay much attention until recently - but I don't post for #throwbackthursday or #tbt as it's affectionately come to be known. I love it when others do. It's charming and nostalgic and often silly.

It's not that I've ever felt obligated to participate, which is maybe why I hadn't thought much about the reasons I've abstained.

The reason is that so many of my fond memories contained my brother - most of the #tbt posts that I love most are of siblings, in fact - and it's a lot for me, even almost four years after his passing, to pick out a photo of the three of us. The nonexistence of photos in that four year window is jarring, even though of course it is and has been reality, and then I realize that in years prior to that there are fewer photos than I would like to see because I didn't see him and because he didn't want his picture taken as much as I now think we should have.

The three of us at the Detroit Zoo Arctic Ring of Life exhibit making handprints in the ice wall. Definitely in my awkward adolescence window of photo-taking (feel like that probably ended, I don't know, last year). I'm in the light blue for those who can't tell me apart from my sister.

September is Suicide Prevention Awareness month. I've already reposted my heartfelt, no punches pulled thoughts on suicide prevention in this post,  and the "suicide" label up top can get you to more commentary. But here's the #tbt version:

When you look at a photo with a loved one, imagine their face missing. Imagine their voice silenced from that story, imagine their warmth missing from the hug at the end. That's what it is to have lost a loved one to a preventable suicide. That's what it will be for many more people if we don't change our policies, change our lives, change our culture. I love your photos and the stories that go with them, and I love seeing your family pride. Keep posting - post more if you haven't been.

But also vote more, think more, advocate more, hug more, laugh more, collaborate more, read more.

And if you see me on a Thursday, maybe give me an extra hug.

Christina Stands with PP: Preemie's Mom Shares

Edit: This post is a follow-up to Confessions: I'm Not Pro-Life Anymore and  Dr. Rebecca Talks Abortion .

Two and a half years ago, I had a baby, and that changed my stance on abortion for good. While most people would not think of giving birth as a reason to desire to advocate for the ability to terminate pregnancy, my case was different. My sweet daughter was born early, very early--14 weeks early to be exact-- and for that, I had to spend 90 days in the highest level of Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, or NICU at Texas Children’s Hospital. I saw what is required to keep a 26 week old baby alive. Seeing the extensive medical care that many children with various complications from birth required was a key moment in my decision to be pro-women’s health rights, pro-proper sex education, and ultimately pro-choice. Recent photos of “aborted fetuses” posted by pro-life people on Facebook have been emotional triggers to me, in that most of them aren’t actual aborted fetuses, but premature babies. 

Hazel, as a tiny preemie - you should see her now!

That, and some introspection inspired me to share my feelings about how we, as a nation of people who should want to care for our women and children, could realistically handle the issue of abortion.

Abortion will never go away. There is no way to outlaw all abortions; we can only outlaw safe abortions. The only way to reduce the amount of abortions that happen is to give women proper education, affordable contraception, and other screening tools. Even as someone who is pro-choice, I support reducing any amount of medical intervention, such as abortion, by providing ways to mitigate the need for it. It is important that we are able to provide the least invasive medical intervention while still providing the bodily autonomy that all people deserve. Do you know who provides these things and other life-saving services? Planned Parenthood. It is imperative that we reflect and take a realistic view of the world. The only way to reduce the quantity of abortions is to give people quality tools to do so. That I why stand with Planned Parenthood.

Dr. Rebecca Talks Abortion

My helpmate spoke out today, feeling as I did that it's time. I'm sharing her Facebook post with permission, as I promised an update on my post from last night and realized her thoughts were more cogent than mine. Edits for readability have been made but no change to content. For more on this topic, see my friend Christina's take, also.

"This is a very difficult debate for a number of reasons, one of which is the way media on both sides of the debate cherrypick very unusual cases. The type of abortion described in the video commonly shared [Rebecca and I decided it was unproductive to link you] is horrific but also 100% illegal at this time. 

I am a family physician and from the perspective have perhaps a slightly different view than some of my OBGYN colleagues. Whereas they care exclusively for mothers and unborn babies, I am a provider for children as well. I can't claim to be pro choice or pro life as defined by our politicians, as the situation is more nuanced than that, for all the reasons widely publicized but also for our current birth statistics. 50% of all pregnancies are unplanned - either mistimed or unwanted. 25% of all recognized pregnancies end in miscarriage or intentional abortion. And far more pregnancies now than ever before are complicated by preexisting disease. 

Combine that with amazing capabilities of modern NICU wards. I practice at a very large urban hospital and have seen 25 week old babies be born and survive. I have also seen 23 week preterm labor patients forced to make a decision between inducing delivery - with odds below 5% of survival, and high risk of chronic disability if the infant did survive, or to continue the pregnancy and risk life threatening infection. The situation is more complex than most people realize. Often there is no right answer, and therefore a clear cut law for or against is in my view inappropriate. Instead I believe our culture needs to move towards prevention and encourage planning to reduce the number of unplanned and unwanted pregnancies. 

I am neither pro life or pro choice. I am pro comprehensive sex ed, pro birth control, pro marriage, and pro responsible adulthood. I stand with planned parenthood."

Confessions: I'm Not Pro-Life Anymore - I Stand with PP

I used to be pro-life. Single-issue voter, no exceptions, Focus on the Family, Right-to-Life pro-life. I could make every argument for a fetus being a full human being. I still can. I still want to. I'm not pro-choice, not really, either. But I stand with Planned Parenthood.

Some of you will say that if I'm not pro-life, I'm pro-choice, and if I'm not pro-choice, I'm pro-life. As though it's a pure either/or binary. But if it were a pure either/or binary, it's a dilemma. Neither option is good.  And Jesus didn't let himself get caught in dilemmas. Look at every time the Pharisees tried to trap him. Look at when his disciples thought they knew his answer. He rose above either/or.

Rachel Held Evans wrote a few posts on the abortion debate within the last few years - I can't find the one I want to link you to right now. I'll keep looking, but suffice to say that it was polarizing. I've already seen multiple responses to her that basically say she's not really a Christian. She's polarizing anyway, for a number of reasons (but Christians like her are the reason I haven't left the faith, to be honest - the fact that when she questions dogma, people listen gives me hope for us yet), but for people like the pro-life single-issue voter I used to be, the stance she took - that current pro-life tactics are generally unacceptable - was harsh, and probably more problematic that some of her other controversial positions.

And while I mostly agreed with her, I didn't really want the backlash. Most of my readers are generally supportive and/or civil, but I still end up with complicated social media threads. I still feel obligated to manage them and monitor for civility and focus. It was a lot, and it didn't seem like there had been a particularly important occasion to write, and who reads this blog anyway? Why would anything I write here matter, in the grand scheme of things?

But then I'm Asking: Please Stop Slut Shaming Kim Davis got 270 hits in two weeks. And people shared it, and commented on it, and maybe there was a little more compassion in the world because it existed. And then part of Congress voted to defund Planned Parenthood, and I thought, "Oh crap, maybe I have to do this." Because these tactics aren't actually going to significantly decrease the number of abortions. Antics like this might not decrease them at all. You see, the government already wasn't funding abortions at Planned Parenthood, but they were funding lots of other things people needed.

Things like mammograms and pelvic exams and Pap smears. Things like annual physicals. Things like contraception to help families decide when to have children. Things that are doing what many pro-lifers claim to want - reducing abortions. 

I can't support a movement that is using guerilla warfare (think bombing clinics) and political hostility (think government shutdowns) to claim to accomplish something that isn't being accomplished while the entity that movement has set up as antagonist or nemesis is actually getting stuff done. So for those who didn't follow, I can't support the pro-life movement while it terrorizes Planned Parenthood.

I hope to get out another post soon that's similar to the one on mental illness and self advocacy in terms of what would actually reduce abortions, if Right to Life is interested. 

Hint: it's going to mean more funding, not less, for places like Planned Parenthood.

The Day I Found My Helpmate: 6 Years and a Lifetime Ago

A cotton, coral-colored maxi dress hangs in my closet. I don't wear it much, but I have kept it because it has been affectionately dubbed "the first time dress."

It's the dress I wore the night Rebecca asked me to go with her to medical school, and the night we admitted we were in love, and the night we first kissed. There was no ring, no grand gesture (though coming out is grand enough, as those of you who have done it know), no flight of doves or scatter or rose petals or champagne. I wrote about this last year in http://committinginthemitten.blogspot.com/2014/09/the-last-five-years-minute-and-eternity.html .

This year . . . six years . . . feels different. Maybe because this year, our relationship is fully legally recognized nationwide (except, sort of, in Rowan County, Kentucky - looking at you, Kim Davis). I both can and can't believe it has taken six years for the country to realize what Rebecca and I knew that night: that she is my helpmate.

We struggled to figure out what to call each other. Girlfriend never really worked. Intended? Betrothed? Partner? Partner was closest, and we used it for a long time. After our legal wedding, we started saying wife - I should tell you about people's reactions to that some other time.

But wife still felt like we were appropriating a straight institution that we didn't really believe in as it stands in U.S. culture right now. And people's reactions made it clear that it didn't share our mission.

And I couldn't tell you when, but at some point, I started thinking about the term "helpmate." This word stems from the Adam/Eve story in the Bible, when God creates a suitable helper for Adam. Rebecca and I realized years ago, and I think are realizing more every day, that we are each other's suitable helper. Our relationship is missional. Even before we were a romantic couple, we had goals set (some of you remember the now very defunct Detroit Goat Farm project - I'm ever grateful for the people we met through that).

And maybe, readers, that's why it hurts when I hear people trying to make our relationship all about sex. Or when I hear marriage defined as one man and one woman (typically with a biological restriction based on procreation, as though that is the only way to have a family or be missional). Or even when people say that it doesn't matter who we love or what gender they are, we should be able to get married - because Rebecca and I aren't just lovers.

For the last six years, we've had the joy and struggle of being helpmates. And I continue to believe that a certain segment of society wants to cheapen or invalidate that because they don't support our mission or because they don't know us, rather than because of Scripture. Or put another way, maybe because they're afraid to think about what marriage means if it's not wedding+paperwork+man+woman=matrimony.

Admitting that what we have might be closer to Biblical marriage in many ways than the above equation or a house in the suburbs with a picket fence, 2.5 kids, dog, and middle class income is uncomfortable.

So let me share two recent quotes from Rebecca that have been a reminder of why I love her and of why our marriage is so very important to me (and worth the fight to protect):

After I asked her if we should do something as a favor for a friend, when said thing might be hugely inconvenient:

"Is it what [our friend] really needs right now to be supported?" (It was, and we did it.)

After I told her about a public hearing 45 minutes away (well, more in rush hour) to improve air quality that I thought we should attend to show support for friends and children living in the affected area:

"Yeah, I'm free that night. We should go. I'll get the word out."

Yep. Helpmate.

I Taught an Ahmed: Please Don't Detain Them

I need you to hear this. I have taught students just like the Ahmed in Texas who was detained for building a clock and bringing it to school.

They are from South Asia, or Southwest Asia, or other parts of the world. Their skin was not White. They had names that you may have never heard before (though their names were not really Ahmed - apologies for the click-bait headline). Their first languages are not English.

And my Ahmeds are brilliant. They are on their school robotics teams. They want to be business people, doctors, pharmacist, engineers, and they are everything right with the United States. They demonstrate innovation, creativity, integrity, perseverance, and resourcefulness. Whether their robotics teams are well-resourced or running on shoestrings, they are showing up after or before school hours to work on projects involving math and science. Some of them would come to my office hours or e-mail me between class sessions for extra help.

In a time of a much hand-wringing about students who cannot do math and science, or students who don't care about school, my Ahmeds prove to me that at least to some students are being served by the United States school system and some Millenials have society's interests at heart (see my post In Defense of Millenials for more on that). They prove that our labor force can and will fill the skilled positions that we've had difficulty staffing.

So I am asking: do not detain my Ahmeds. Do not delay them. Do not hold them back from their dreams and their goals. Because my dream, my goal is to see my Ahmeds change the world.

Loving the Poor: Not a Special Calling

The Bible calls some of us to special gifts. Shepherding. Teaching. Discernment.

Other things we're all commanded to do. Pray. Read the Bible. Share grace. Pursue justice.

Yep. 

We're all supposed to pursue justice. That doesn't mean just legal justice. It means economic justice too. 

This realization has been percolating for a while, and perhaps stems a little from a book by Mark Cahill, entitled One Thing You Can't Do in Heaven (this isn't an endorsement really, but credit where credit's due). In essence, it's a calling for every Christian, even the awkward, introverted ones who say they're not good at it, to share their faith journey and the story of Jesus. He posits that sharing this way isn't a special gift as so many claim (often to get out of an uncomfortable task), it's a mandate.

I see the same kind of mandate in terms of seeking economic justice. Look at the story of the Good Samaritan, or the widow who gave two pennies, or the Beatitudes, or commandments to care for widows, orphans, and immigrants. Look at the compassion Jesus had for the hungry masses. And look at his contempt for the money changers at the temple, the Pharisees, and the unrepentant wealthy. (I've provided links to Bible chapters containing most of these stories if you want to check it out.)

Given my background as a middle class, White, educated woman now in an upwardly mobile situation, I feel like I sometimes get some kind of extra credit for caring about income inequality, the poor, food insecurity, educational inequity, and similar causes. Like if I came from life in poverty, of course I would care, or if I were poor now, clearly, but it makes me extra "good" that I care anyway, even though I know where my dinner is coming from and how I'm going to make rent next month, so my efforts somehow don't benefit myself (I would argue that's wrong, but that's not the point of this post - For more on this topic, see my post about privilege and not pulling the ladder up.)

By extension, other people from my middle-class background (or upper class backgrounds, perhaps even more so, since I come from a somewhat mixed-income community) get a pass if they don't know or care much about poverty, as though it's not "their" issue or they don't have to be part of the solution (and that also means they get to keep their misconceptions and incorrect narratives about those living in poverty, too - I've been seeing that a lot in social media posts lately, and it's really [I was going to say not cool, but more accurately] infuriating to hear over and over the negative stereotypes about all of the poor and all of the racial minorities ). Also by extension, this cause becomes primarily the burden of those who grew up in poverty or are there now, and since it's already their cross to bear, why give props for their efforts?

[[Tangent: Coming from a very rural, relatively low income county, Rebecca has experienced a tiny sampling of this - she would never complain about this, since she's not motivated by this stuff, but it was really interesting to watch someone from a high-income, suburban background receive the award for commitment to underserved medicine at med school graduation even though Rebecca was actually from a background like that, had spent almost a year as an Americorps VISTA working for Free Clinics of Michigan, attended rural med conferences every time she got the funding and academic leave to do so, and had signed up for the National Health Services Corps (NHSC), the same program the actual recipient was doing. (Okay, so I wanted to brag about my wife a little - can I help it if I'm proud?) Despite all of Rebecca's efforts, despite her knowledge of the day-to-day realities of the uninsured and underresourced, her opinion and choices were less valued, ironically because she came from that background, and probably also because she truly needed the loan forgiveness money tied to NHSC. And this is a case where the outcome really doesn't matter at all, because the award didn't confer any particular privilege. Would that this is worst case scenario.]]

Committinginthemitten is calling crap on that. First, poverty is everyone's, and especially every Christian's, problem to solve. Second, I don't deserve bonus points (and neither do the rest of my fellow middle and upper class privileged friends.) Half the time, I have no idea what I'm doing or what's going on and am basing concepts on the stories of those who have lived it, or on research reports on the topic. I'm glad people listen, and I've tried to get educated, but my job is to amplify those other voices and ideas. Giving bonus points to me or asking my opinion might seem easier, sometimes, but it's a form of paternalism and classism, and that's not going to get us where we need to be, which is all together looking for equal opportunities and better outcomes.

Pursuing economic justice isn't a special calling. We're mandated to turn away from unfair opportunities, to listen to unheard voices, and to behave as Christ did, especially when it's hard and involves sacrifice (are you listening, Kim Davis?). I'm still working on it. Honestly, it feels icky a lot of days to realize how many things I have to change and how many inconveniences I'm going to face, and that if the world becomes more fair, my life will actually be harder. I feel like a huge hypocrite writing about this, since I feel the weight of all the small decisions I made today that didn't fully commit to this, but to conclude: (I think this quote is correctly attributed - let me know if not)

“I did then what I knew how to do. Now that I know better, I do better.”
― Maya Angelou

I'm Asking: Please Stop Slut Shaming Kim Davis

As a member of the community the Rowan county clerk seeks to oppress, and as someone who in fact has a marriage certificate not from her home county or even state because of similar oppression, I ask, please: stop slut shaming Kim Davis. At issue is not her past sexual history, but her current refusal to do her job.

If she were the perfect picture of chastity according to her religion and every religion, what she is doing would still be illegal and immoral. If having made one or three or four or seven mistakes prevented any of us from having sincere religious beliefs, I suspect all places of worship would be empty. Kim Davis is entitled to her past, to her current religious beliefs, and to the belief that the deity she worships has forgiven her. None of that is the issue. 

And while I have only ever been with my wife, if I hadn't, that would not invalidate my request for a marriage license. The law doesn't require chastity. And the law doesn't rely on religion. And Kim Davis is not required by law to remain county clerk, nor is she entitled to remain county clerk by right if she is unwilling or unable to complete the tasks required. 

She deserves jail time and fines for contempt, but her sexual history does not condemn her. Neither does mine. Neither does yours.

So stop slut shaming her, friends. Let's commit to being better.

Personal style: What's Committinginthemitten wearing?

Getting dressed in the morning. It's one of those things we all have to do. I think for a long time, I viewed it as an obligation rather than an opportunity. Perhaps because of the emphasis on modesty (discussed in Eff Your Beauty Standards and In Definition of: Modesty) or the lack of money (see Confessions: I'll Probably Never Stop) or a million other anxieties or the worry that I would look too gay or too straight or too something, for a long time I didn't put much effort into getting dressed.

I followed rules that were externally imposed: Not exposing too much. Not wearing certain colors. Not combining certain textures. Reserving dresses for Sunday and jeans for casual days.

Enter full-time work at a company that's very casual and flexible in terms of what I wear to work. Enter the revelation that I might be beautiful. Enter the idea that I might get an opinion about what I like and what looks good, or even that it's okay to wear things that don't "look good" - being beautiful isn't the admission ticket I owe the world for existing.

So here are some principles that guide my style choices. None of them (not even the one on leggings, I promise!) are rules that I would impose on other people. And if I ever wanted to break them, I could. But they've been working for me lately in terms of feeling "put together" or like my clothes make a statement I agree with.

1. I don't have to wear shorts.

I think other people look great in shorts. I think other people feel great in them and need them to stay cool. And I suppose if I made a habit of going to the gym, I would wear shorts for that. But I've never really felt good in shorts - ironically, they feel more restrictive to me than dresses or skirts. So I don't wear them. People have tried to tell me that they look fine. I don't really believe it, but even if I did, I would feel uncomfortable in them. So I've given myself permission not to wear them.

2. I don't wear athletic shoes unless the activity requires them.

This is based on advice from Crazy Stupid Love, which is not actually a place to get fashion tips, but I've been loving the way I feel when I skip athletic shoes and wear - well, anything else. I grew up in athletic shoes almost all the time, except sandals in the summer and "dress shoes" for special occasions. I guess it still feels like a special occasion, a little, when I pick out a pretty kitten heel or tall cork wedge or a cute ballet flat. I still wear athletic shoes if I'm say, doing yardwork or painting a house or exercising (except I don't really consider exercise a separate part of my day and have mostly chosen work tasks that incorporate it into my life . . . ), and I get that a lot of other people need to wear really supportive shoes all the time. But I like the way I feel in other shoes and have decided to enjoy that.

3. Dresses and skirts are for whenever.

I wear dresses on casual days, to work, for dinner dates, and to church (I wear pants a lot too). I'm absolutely in love with Banana Republic maxi dresses this season. - I have three of them now, all purchased on deep sale. One is new, so we'll see how often I wear it, but the other two get worn at least once a week, it seems, along with a jersey maxi from Target. I typically wear a tank under them if I'm going to work since the neckline makes me self conscious if I bend over. Or I'll tie or belt a dress shirt over them if I need to seem a little more business than casual. I also got into pencil skirts over fun tights with boot cuffs (yes, I did make my own boot cuffs from old sweaters). 

4. Men's dress shirts are way better than women's.

I'm fortunate to have a small enough bust that I can comfortably wear men's dress shirts, and I do. Most of the time, people probably don't realize they're men's, given the current "boyfriend shirt" trend. Why not buy in the women's section? For starters, the fabric in a men's shirt tends to be better quality. It breathes  better, is less transparent, and requires little or no ironing. Second, the cut, at least in my case, feels more professional. Since the objective isn't to show off my figure but instead to look and feel ready to work, having things right to my breast  or shoulders was counterproductive. Third, I'm able to thrift these better because sizing seems more standard - 15-15.5 necklines in a slim or fitted cut usually work, especially from Banana Republic (are you noticing a trend?) and Express.

How do I style them? Lots of options here. I used to always belt them to show off an hourglass figure. Then I decided that was optional. Now sometimes I'll tie a knot in the bottom (over either pants or a pencil skirt) or even tie or belt one over one over a dress. I sometimes use an infinity scarf, or I've been known to wear a short necklace inside the collar and a long one outside of it. 

5. I don't wear leggings as pants.

If you do, no judgment here. I always feel a bit exposed when I do, so I make sure to wear a long tunic, men's dress shirt, or perhaps a knee length dress over them. I resisted this trend a long time, until I realized the layering options I would have and the opportunity to stretch summer dresses into fall.

6. I pick at least one accessory most days.

Necklace, earrings, bracelet, fun eyeliner, scarf, belt … lots of options. I find that wearing accessories makes me feel good about my day. I used to worry, if I wore a lot of them at once or wore statement pieces too often, it would be too noticeable. But I love wearing a button statement piece at the same time as a long tagua one, so people can deal.

That's enough for now. I included recent pictures from a day I think I really pulled off an outfit below - my fabulous gay friend Jack said this was nailing the East Village trend of shopping at Old Navy, thrift stores, and boutiques.

I realized I was really pulling it off, so I snapped a picture for you.

Tahari (thrifted) short blazer (kind of boxy), burgundy long-sleeved T and denim pencil skirt (from Old Navy, of all places to be getting stuff for a presentation), sensible watch, and super fun vintage button necklace (which can be yours if you go to Town Peddler in Livonia and purchase it)