The Beauty of The Lab

Starting this semester, I began working in a lab for class hours. This research opportunity quite literally came as a "P.S." statement in an email, but little did I know how much this would open up my heart and my future. 

This is my first time doing what some undergrads only hope to do. I get to work on a research project that I can personalize, change, and make happen any way I want. But more importantly, I get to fail. This may sound odd but let me explain...

Grades have been important to me as long as I can remember. Even down to Pre-School where I was chastised if I made less than Satisfactory. In first grade I pushed myself to be the fastest and smartest in math. (Ask Mrs. Atkinson, I'm sure she remembers the moments with math problems.) And from there the intensity grew. In middle school, I would be devastated with an 89. There were many moments I remember crying and asking my mother why she was disappointed with my work. She would tell me, "Taylor, I am disappointed because this doesn't seem to be your best work." She was right. I was a gifted child, I could do more. But I took this motivation and turned it into a game with numbers. I became careless about what the material was just as long as I was making a 95 or above. This allowed me to graduate with a GPA higher than a 4.0 and second (yet technically third) in my class. 

Then college hit. I was so used to not caring about the material that the methods of college testing hit me like a hurricane. I made a 59 on my first exam in college. After that exam I walked out of the room, sobbed, called my mom, and then threw up. That's how important it was for me to maintain the perfection. That's how important my grades were to me. After crying for HOURS, I was told by my mother, "You know how to improve. Go out and do it." I worked my tail off and made a C on the next exam in Chemistry. I was so happy to pass, I cried out of joy. However at the end of the semester, I realized the A was in my reach and I focused so hard on studying that I forgot to eat. A very awesome friend and boyfriend at the time brought me food and made me eat after 36 hours of no food. To cut the story short, I made a B in the class. I again called my mother and was told this, "Sometimes you do your best and it just doesn't pay off. You did your best."

That was not okay for me, but I eventually came around to realizing that grades aren't everything. In fact, they are such a small portion in the real world that killing myself over them isn't worth it. 

So fast forward and I'm in a lab. Frustrated that the animals aren't doing what I need them to do. I'm getting the genetic version of fruit basket turnover. A few things went wrong and my professor says, "well just do it again." He wasn't upset, he wasn't angry, he was just telling me that my failure is not unusual and that I had to do it again.

I got the unique opportunity to entertain a speaker from UC Berkley who is in the fore front of developmental genetics. I picked his brain about PhD programs, when is a good time to go to school, and different things. We got to talking about the lab and he says, "The beauty of the lab is that it is NOTHING like the classroom. In a classroom you are pushed to regurgitate material and perform for the grades. In a lab you are expected to fail. You are pushed to the forefront of science and told "Go and get it done." Failure is the beauty of science. From failure we learn to grow."

It's true. From my failure I am growing. I am learning to let go and concentrate that my contributions in lab will be more important than the grades made in chemistry, virology, or physics. I am taking an opportunity that is completely new to me. I will fail, but that doesn't make me any less of a person or any less of a scientist. In fact it makes me better. 

Embrace your failures. Because from them, you grow.

Live Today.

I Beat The Mirror

Well, the weekend has begun and I am finally on the mend from reconstruction surgery. This was a decision made with many many prayers and just as many tears from all parties involved in this decision.

There are few harder things that I've had to do than weigh the pros and cons of this surgery. Many things in my life have been hard but most of those hard things were decisions that I didn't have to make. So many things in our lives are out of our control, but this was fully under my control. Trying to decide whether or not I wanted this because I genuinely wanted it or becuase I wanted it because I didn't like what I looked like in the mirror. Doing this surgery becuase I hated what I saw in the mirror quickly became the wrong reason to have the surgery.

One of the most valuable lessons I learned was that if you don't love yourself, a cosmetic fix will not change your mind set. It could help for a bit, but then something else would pop up. "I don't like my breasts." I get them changed. "I don't like my face." I could get that changed too. But it finally came down to knowing I had to love my body for exactly what it was. Uneven, a little imperct, and yet still miraculously beautiful. 

I wrote down things I didn't like and started to see how miniscule those flaws were. And how I had some pretty awesome stories behind scars, dents, and webbed toes. This started a complete change. I began to see how small these flaws were and became someone who loved and embraced her flaws. I love my webbed toes. I got them from my Dad and I know that while I have to sacrifice toe socks, at least there's a valid reason behind it. The dent in my nose from flipping a desk on my face when I was five reminds me that I don't always have the best ideas...no matter how fun they seem.

This surgery is giving me back something that was involuntarily removed. While I came to love my defects and slight deformities, this surgery is truly a step in becoming the beautiful woman I feel like I am. Walking with confidence and knowing that I loved myself before this surgery makes it all the easier to celebrate how I feel post-surgery.

Love yourself.

Live today.

Steps and Moments

Finally. My official next to last day of school. For some people that just seems like a lot of words. However, for me it truly means the beginning of my last year of college. I'm ecstatic to say the least but that's not all this year holds for me. 

Immediately in the start of the new year, there were a multitude of my friends engaged and taking the next step. No, I'm not writing to say I'm jealous. In fact, this isn't even the main topic of this post but I felt the need to congratulate my many friends that are engaged and taking a HUGE next step in their lives. I cannot WAIT to see beautiful marriages unfold!

Now to the real reason for this post. I am truly and genuinely thankful. Thankful for where I am in life, thankful for who surrounds me, and thankful for the many opportunities that have come with taking "the next step".

So I want to summarize some of my "next steps":

1. As many of you know I started dating an awesome guy and we celebrated one year together in 2013. For us, a long distance relationship has not been easy but who says things worth having are easy? Our relationship has brought out a side of me that I love, he celebrates me being goofy and also being poised. (On the rare occasion). He helped me take a next step in loving myself for who I truly am and simply being honest with myself.

2. In 2013, I found a mass in my right breast. I ignored it and prayed for it to go away. It didn't. I didn't want to acknowledge that it was there and I also wanted to ignore the fact that the mass was growing. Rapidly. My family helped me take my next step in embracing imperfections that would help me lead others in embracing their own flaws. This mass helped humble me and see that my life is bigger than my desires. It also lead to number 3...

3. I went to Miss Georgia in 2010 and then swore off pageants forever. I told everyone I was done and that I would move on with my life. Then 2011 came around and I tried again, and I failed. I really thought I was done until I found my lump. After hearing the words, 'You have to have surgery, there is no option.' I knew that I had a message. And the best way to spread that message for me was Miss America Organization. A few weeks before my surgery I told my boyfriend and family that I was going to try again, with a platform that was fueled by passion. That lead to whole new lifestyle and a whole new way of thinking. And for a sweet moment, the passion led to success.

Needless to say these are only a few of the steps that were taken in 2013. However, 2013 has passed and time marches forward. Hopefully there are many days left before me and I want to remember where I came from to know where I'm going. The days that I have been given are so precious. The time I spend with others counts so much. 

I don't have any poetic words about how precious time is because I think we all know the drill. In fact, I don't realize how special moments are until they are almost gone. 

So to the special moments; make them count. 
To the bad moments; let them go. 
To the great moments; tuck them away.
To the little moments; hold them close.

Live Today.

Coming So Far

Christmas. The buzz word everywhere right now. I realize I haven't been blogging as faithfully as possible, but even I still hear christmas music on the radio and see candy canes in the store. But the more popular word for this week and the next... "Finals Week".

With finals approaching and then leaving as quickly as they arrive, the stress factor in the college population sky rockets. Nutritious food is quickly left behind for the binges of chips, pizza, cupcakes, basically anything unhealthy. Personally, my poison is animal crackers. We defy meals to much mind-numbingly on junk food and we pay for it later. But right now, I couldn't think of a better time to nap. Guys you think I'm joking but I'm not. Today, I took a solid 30 minute nap and have never felt better. 

The stress of finals has gotten to me. I will admit that sleeping restlessly and studying all the time makes me want to pull my hair out, but it's not enough to make me stay awake all day. In fact, study breaks have become my good friend these past few weeks. 

A few posts ago I stated that I was going to let go of numbers and live life more. Well, I can't say with 100% certainty that I've accomplished that goal, but I do know that I am so much closer than ever before. People have commented on my optimism during finals and wonder where it comes from. Sometimes I wonder myself where the pressure and stress went. It still reappears from time to time but it's nothing like freshman year. 

If I could go back and tell my freshman in college self some advice here is what it would be, "Taylor, you need to look up, go get some real food, nap, and just breathe." I remember times when I couldn't sleep because my heart was beating out of my chest about the possibility of not performing at a 4.0. Now that I'm a senior, that's actually okay. I have a very high GPA and have worked very hard for it. But I've also come a longer way in taking the grade of a C on an exam and instead of tearing myself up I build up my study habits.

It's finals week but the beauty of controlling stress is in our options to choose what will control our lives. I'm sorry, my grades aren't going to control me. I am very proud of them, but they are not my greatest accomplishment. In fact they are no where near the thing I am most proud of in my life. So to all the frazzled collegiates:

Look up. Go get a real meal. And take a big deep breath.

Live Today.

It's Just Things

This weekend, some robber decided it would be a good thing to break into my car. Pop open my trunk and see what he could find.

There were a spectrum of emotions when I saw that my glove box was open and the contents of my car were scattered everywhere. My doors were locked, and I know I keep a semi-messy car but it is usually nothing like that. I was immediately relieved that I had my wallet on me for the weekend. 

Of course, I called 911, waited for an interminably long amount of time and when the officer finally arrived I let him in the gate. Walking up to my car it hit me that I had not checked my trunk. Then a panic set into my head. After the officer let me check my car, I popped the trunk. When I saw the inside, I immediately started crying. My crown boxes were open, empty, in disarray, and my Micheal Kors purse was gone. They left my lipstick (it's the small things) and a nice jacket. 

After phoning the police, my mother, my board, bank, and plenty of other people my brain was exhausted and I could only think about my class that I'd missed and the classes I had left to face for the day. In all of the hubbub I was able to forget that my car was broken into and was able to laugh, smile, and even do genetics. 

A purse can be replaced, a crown can be replaced. Sentimental value is extremely high but thank goodness I have pictures of those moments. Those things are exactly that... just things. My mom instilled in me the view point that things are something that can't go with you when you go. Don't get me wrong, I love all of the things that were taken but I'm not the one who knows where they are. But they can be replaced.

If anything, this is a lesson of humility. Time to focus on homework. It'll be okay.

Live today.

My Struggle With Numbers

To be honest, this is not a post I want to write. In fact, I'm pretty sure no one likes to admit their struggles, failures, and frustrations. But as a person, I believe being transparent can change the world. Of course I believe there is a time and place for such things and for me the time and the place is here and now.

I have previously written about how simple words from an adviser wrecked my graduation plan to no end. Well from there started a spiral into frustration, anger, and silence that has only recently begun to lift. After walking out of the office, I cried and cried because it wasn't fair. The hard work that had been put in wasn't being rewarded and it just wasn't fair. Well, oddly enough I somehow continuously forgot to remind myself that life isn't fair. Then my speech came. It went so well and I knew that I was doing something I was called to do. I lost myself in the moment of speaking to pause my time and look at men and women and genuinely say, "You are going to be alright."

Even the past few weekends have been talks about deadlines and can we make it all come together in time. Am I on the right path that will have me graduating in 2014? How many classes do I have left? How many inches can/should I lose? When is Miss Georgia? What is my GPA? What do I have to make to maintain it?

Don't get me wrong. Deadlines are needed. I believe that for some things, you can't just go with the wind and see where you wind up. We need structure and we need a path. But the hardened mindset of an unchanging path is where I fall into trouble. I was so set on reaching all of my goals and making sure that I did them before the due date that I forgot to look up and see, smile, and appreciate how far I had come. There are so many more things enjoyable in life. For me, the phone call with a friend was what I needed to turn it all around. To hear someone like myself admit this struggle all of the sudden things made sense. I might not falter with some things, but time will always be my weakness. I don't want to squander my days but the precious relationships that come along should be more important than finishing the check-list for the day. 

This weekend, I spent time with friends that I haven't seen in a good while. Their kids had grown up so much, and my mother and I got to see their last soccer game of the season. Watching those kids go after the ball with no sense of time for substitutions or the half, just a passion to kick the ball in the right direction or get closer to the ball to attempt a kick was a sweet and wonderful reminder for me. Sometime life isn't always about making the perfect kick, pass, or run downfield; it's about the passion of playing the game. We all are living borrowed lives, which makes it all the better when we spend time passionately following after our goals not concentrating on when the whistle will be blown.

Live Today.

Comfort

On Thursday I will be giving a fifteen minute speech. Now, those of you that know me say "Oh please, you talk for fifteen minutes every time your mouth flies open." While that may be true, I don't usually talk about one topic for fifteen minutes. There's an ease and a flow to conversation that is sometimes missing in speeches or is presented in such a cheesy way that all you want to do is roll your eyes. 

I'm not a teacher. This I know. If I was then I wouldn't be nearly as scared. Those champions get up and talk for 55 minutes to 2 hours on one overlaying topic. 

This could quite possibly be one of the hardest speeches to write. Not only because of it's length, but because I'm going to have to dive back into my losses and present them. 

A couple months ago, a dear friend's mom called me and said "Taylor, you should incorporate loss in your platform." Well naturally I was confused and couldn't even think about where to start and then I got a wonderful opportunity to go down to Shands Lake Shore and give a speech along with 3 women who had lost their mother to breast cancer. Well, when God opens a door, you had better step thru it. 

Last week I went and met with my friend's mom and she gave me a verse that inspired it all; 

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God." 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

I may not have lost a blood relative from cancer, but I have experienced its evil and it's ability to take away things that we love. I have experienced loss and now it is my turn to comfort those going thru it.

So if your praying on Thursday around 12:00 pm, please lift up a prayer for the speech that will come out of my mouth. I pray it will be constructive and, most importantly, comforting.

Live Today.