Respect - It's Not Just an Aretha Franklin Thing

It's taken me a while to realize why I need to blog.  And, more importantly, WHAT I need to blog about.

First of all, it's been a while since I have blogged.  The reason that I started a blog in the first place was to have an outlet where people (future employers) could get to know me, my personal life, and my personality.  I want people to know what I stand for, and why I feel like I would be a valuable asset as a friend or potential employee.

Second of all, I have a lot of thoughts swirling around in my brain.  A LOT.  Seriously, it feels like 15 brainstorming sessions in my head, with 20 different people screaming at the top of their lungs to be heard!  Maddening!  The worst part is that I can't hear all of them at once, so they often go unheard.  (That's right, I actually want to listen to the voices in my head.  They're all me, after all, plus they aren't telling me to do awful things!  .... Usually.).  This means that blogging is an outlet for my imagination.  I can write down my ideas and, more importantly, get feedback from others.  I do most of my learning by listening to what others have to say, so why wouldn't I bounce ideas off of people?

Third, and most importantly, I've struggled with wanting to blog because I keep thinking of the things I feel are most important to me.  I am so worried about catering to what other people will think, that I didn't stop to think that, maybe if I wrote what was important to me, and why, maybe it would impact them somehow!

So, starting today, I am working on a major project that will take several months to prepare for - a video blog.  I will write down my thoughts here, convert them into video form, and hopefully reach a larger audience that I can influence to do better for others.

I hope that people will watch and/or read my blogs and realize that there are small ways they can impact someone's life, and the main thing they need to do is open their minds, their hearts and their eyes, and close their mouths.  How else can you find out about what is going on in the world?  More importantly, how else can you learn what YOU can do to make a positive impact?

I think I will be able to do this.  A call to action blog, so to speak.  I won't be asking anyone to do something so crazy and wild that it would be impossible - I'm asking simply for people to try.

There will be more details to come, but I just wanted to make this known.

"Don't be afraid to respect something, even if you don't accept it.  It will make a world of difference if you make a difference in the world, even for just one person."

I was Born... A Nerd

On September 20, 1989, my parents, brother and sister welcomed me into the world.  And everyone was happy… Except for me.  I was crying!

But, little did they know, I was not who they thought I was.  I was... a nerd.

As I grew and came to this realization, I didn’t want to be a nerd at all.  People made fun of me, called me names, like “geek” and “freak” and “weirdo.”  I tried so hard.  I tried to like sports.  And think that playing sports was what I needed to do, the right thing to do.

But I was always drawn to nerdy people.  I wanted to know more about them, what they were like, how they lived as a nerdy person.

They told me that living life as a nerd was not easy.  Many people, once they found out they were nerds, changed their opinions.  And, of course, there was the obvious fact that they couldn’t subscribe to car magazines, and were frequently denied the right to fix and make cars.

I wanted to subscribe to car magazines, and so badly wanted to fix and make cars.  But, I didn’t want to go through life as a nerd, having people continue to call me “geek” and “freak” and “weirdo.”

But I was fighting myself.  I was becoming tired, worn out and depressed.  I was denying who I was to appease everyone else’s beliefs.  I was scared to accept who I was, but worse, I was scared that people wouldn’t.

But I decided to tell my family.  Right now, it’s about two months shy of a year that I told my parents.  I told them I was a nerd.

I told mom first, and she said, “I know.”  She added that she didn’t want this life for me, but she did still and will always love me.  She was scared for my future.  “I’m scared you’ll end up like Bill Gates, or one of those kids that is absorbed in books, or gets absorbed in games.”  But she said she would be here for me, no matter what.  It made me cry – a happy cry.

Dad… was a different story.  I told him without actually saying the words, “I’m a nerd,” and his world came crashing down.  He wants a son that is a jock, who would have sports cars.  He was scared his family line would be full of nerds.

He’s come around a little since then.  I still have yet to tell my grandparents that, not only am I a nerd, but that I am in a nerdy relationship.

Even though I feel better with myself, I’m still scared sometimes.  What if I do end up like Bill Gates, or get absorbed in games, simply because I’m a nerd?

The thing that scares me the most is that I may never be able to subscribe to car magazines, or fix and make cars.  I’ve dreamed of that my whole life.

Even now, as I’ve gotten older, I’m still called “geek” and “freak” and “weirdo.”  It’s incredibly unfair.  It hurts that people look at me and only see that I’m a nerd, not the many other wonderful qualities and not-so-wonderful qualities about me.  No.  All they see is me, and to them all I am is a nerd.

Not too awful a story, eh?  Now, do the following.  Replace the following words and phrases in RED with the words and phrases in BLUE, and then read again.

A nerd, nerdy, nerds.................... gay

Geek, freak, weirdo .................... homo, faggot, fag, shit dick, filth, pervert, sinner, etc. (interchangeable.)

Sports .................... girls

Playing sports .................... sleeping with girls

Subscribe to car magazines .................... marry

Fix and make cars .................... adopt or have kids somehow

Bill Gates .................... Matthew Shepard

Is absorbed in books .................... commit suicide

Absorbed in games .................... gets murdered

A jock .................... straight

Sports cars .................... kids

Be full of nerds .................... end

Now, read again.  Like this:

On September 20, 1989, my parents, brother and sister welcomed me into the world.  And everyone was happy… Except for me.  I was crying!

But, little did they know, I was not who they thought I was.  I was... gay.

As I grew and came to this realization, I didn’t want to be gay at all.  People made fun of me, called me names, like “homo” and “faggot” and “shit dick.”  I tried so hard.  I tried to like girls.  And think that sleeping with girls was what I needed to do, the right thing to do.

But I was always drawn to gay people.  I wanted to know more about them, what they were like, how they lived as a gay person.

They told me that living life as gay was not easy.  Many people, once they found out they were gay, changed their opinions.  And, of course, there was the obvious fact that they couldn’t marry, and were frequently denied the right to adopt or have kids somehow.

I wanted to marry, and so badly wanted to adopt.  But, I didn’t want to go through life as gay, having people continue to call me “pervert” and “sinner” and “filth.”

But I was fighting myself.  I was becoming tired, worn out and depressed.  I was denying who I was to appease everyone else’s beliefs.  I was scared to accept who I was, but worse, I was scared that people wouldn’t.

But I decided to tell my family.  Right now, it’s about two months shy of a year that I told my parents.  I told them I was gay.

I told mom first, and she said, “I know.”  She added that she didn’t want this life for me, but she did still and will always love me.  She was scared for my future.  “I’m scared you’ll end up like Matthew Shepard, or one of those kids that commits suicide, or gets murdered.”  But she said she would be here for me, no matter what.  It made me cry – a happy cry.

Dad… was a different story.  I told him without actually saying the words, “I’m gay,” and his world came crashing down.  He wants a son that is straight, who would have kids.  He was scared his family line would end.

He’s come around a little since then.  I still have yet to tell my grandparents that, not only am I a gay, but that I am in a gay relationship.

Even though I feel better with myself, I’m still scared sometimes.  What if I do end up like Matthew Shepherd, or get murdered, simply because I’m gay?

The thing that scares me the most is that I can’t marry, and may never be able to adopt or have kids somehow.  I’ve dreamed of that my whole life.

Even now, as I’ve gotten older, I’m still called “sinner” and “faggot” and “pervert.”  It’s incredibly unfair.  It hurts that people look at me and only see that I’m gay, not the many other wonderful qualities and not-so-wonderful qualities about me.  No.  All they see is me, and to them all I am is gay.

Changing a few words makes all the difference, doesn’t it?

Not a New Chapter...

But a whole new book, it seems.

Life has been going up and up until it seems it can't get any better.  And then it does.

I can't really say in words what exactly is making me happy, but it feels like love. And it's not the love of I feel for my family, because that would be creepy.  And incest.

I mean that feeling that makes your heart almost heat up?  You find yourself smiling and your cheeks hurting because you are thinking about them too much?

And I guess the main thing I'm thinking is that it is real, because I'm not completely dopey.  And, it started out really... You know volcanic explosions?  Yeah, that, but in the chest.

But, now it's sustained and not so wild.  This experience actually reminds me of a song (I know, I know) from Buffy the Vampire Slayer - just the first part:

I touch the fire and it freezes me
I look into it and it's black.
Why can't I feel?  My skin should crack and peel.
I want the fire back.

I had lost that fire, that caring and compassion.  I was losing myself, and I was waiting for someone to pull me out and help me up.  No one came.

So I did it my damn self.  And I am better because of it.  Already I feel more energized, more alive!  I have something legitimate to offer someone, who legitimately feels that I am worth more than I would ever think myself to be.  It's all... legitimate!

Finding out what you can and cannot do is something you have to find out about yourself.  There is not one person out there that can tell you what you should be doing, or who you should be, or what you should be like, or who you should be with and what they should be like.

If America is the place where you are welcome, no matter what, then why is no one seeming to lay out the welcome mat?  I don't know, and I don't care.  I will lay out the welcome mat for myself.  I will be the person I choose to be, and if you judge me for it, then good for you.  Will it affect the person I choose to be?  Most likely not.

I am a listener.  As a reporter, it's my job to listen, not only to the words someone says, but why they say those things.  I want to be able to not only tell their story, but understand, and let them know I understand.

Yet, I can't seem to understand why people feel it's okay to not say anything and assume you understand, then maybe get mad or upset because nobody listened.  Additionally, I don't understand why it's okay for people to say too much and get mad and upset when they're not listened to.

I will do my best to put myself in your shoes, and understand your point of view.  To an extent.  When you begin telling me that I am CHOOSING to live my life in a way you don't like, I will think about your concern.  If it's concern, I will discuss.  If it's judgement, I will flip you off.

No more.  No more will I hide behind the person I'm told I should be, or the person people expect me to be.  Who I SHOULD be, and who I'm EXPECTED to be, better be the best version of myself I can choose to be.

It's about time I've done a little bit of this "I, I, I" and "Me, me, me."  Because, I'm done berating and belittling myself for the betterment of others.  I deserve more.

Realizing Double Deuces

Wow.  Birthday tomorrow!  And yet... I have a lot of stuff on my mind other than celebrating another year, another wrinkle.

But, a birthday is more than just celebrating the day I was born.  It's about celebrating my life as it is now!  And, recently, I've realized I have a lot to celebrate.

I've realized I have friends I love just as much as Cherry Coke - yeah, I know!  THAT much.

I've realized that it's okay to receive compliments, even if they're about me personally.  (I think this over in my head:  "Chris, you are very sweet."  "Thank you." - RIGHT  "I'm actually lying to you, trying to convince you I'm nice.  Really, I'm quite awful." - WRONG

I've realized that I can accomplish a lot, if I put my mind to it.

I've realized that, and this is a biggie, I can wear shorts in public, and people don't fall over laughing.

I've realized that I have drive to better other people, as well as myself.

I've realized that a healthier body is attainable - and I can do it.

I've realized that the special four-letter word can actually be in my life - even if it's not how I had ever thought I would have it, it's there, wonderful and potentially mine.

I've realized I can be a bit OCD, not about things, but about people.  Something to work on, but we all have something we SHOULD change, but can only TRY to change.

I've realized that I'm not perfect, nor can I ever be.  I can be me, and if I'm happy with myself, that's really the most important.

I've realized shopping doesn't have to be excruciatingly painful, even if it's with Grandma for 4 hours.

I've realized Duncan Hines makes the best chocolate cake ever, and it's okay to have another piece.

I've realized that 2 pieces of very rich chocolate cake make my tummy slightly unhappy.

But all of these realizations come down to one thing.  I'm me.  And, I know that sounds incredibly dull, or obvious, or whatever you want to call it, but I know now that being someone else, or being someone that someone else likes.... that's not me.

So, I'm not one to really think highly of myself, but I'm rather proud of myself and my accomplishments.

Now, for the plug -  Like me on Facebook at Chris S. Cole.  It's a new page, and as of now I have 18 likes.  Hopefully, if I get a following, people will notice me as a reporter that people know and respect!

I was just going to make it "Chris Cole" but some skateboarder has that name taken already.  And over 200,000 followers.   So.... let's get cracking!!!

Looking Up... and Looking Forward

So, I decided not to be down and out anymore.  That does no one any good, especially me. 

Instead, I'm going to do two different types of looking.  Up, and forward.  I will no longer be looking down and back (horseshoe term!) because, again, I want to be positive.

I am taking strides to becoming more positive, and more confident - both are issues I've struggled with for a long time.  I can be positive in looking up and forward, and I can be confident in looking up and forward.

Being positive while looking up:  When I look up in a big open space, I have an irrational fear I can't explain.  I have the fear of falling up.  The fear that gravity will suddenly shift, and everything, including me, will fall into the atmosphere.  I don't know why I have this fear, I just do.  It's not so overwhelming that I never go in an open field, or never look up and enjoy the clouds or stars.

But lately, that's all I've been doing - looking up and being afraid.  Being negative.  Worrying.  And it's starting to affect every aspect of my life.  My short temper, my lack of caring, and inability to get rid of the dark circles under my eyes.  And those forehead wrinkles.  Hrmph.

So, I'm going to look up and think good things.  And think those things with confidence.  I will NOT fall into the sky due to a sudden shift of gravity and I will not fear falling because I'm looking up.  Besides, if I'm looking down, people won't be able to see the confident smile on my face.  And I've been told I have a nice smile.

Being positive while looking forward:  Who knows what will happen in the future?  I sure don't.  But I can dream, and I can plan.  I can hope.  But most importantly, I can care.  And I do care.  But I can't just tell people that I do, I have to show them. 

I have always had issues with being confident.  I care too much about what other people think, especially when it comes to appearance or how I act.  Getting into the broadcast business is not going to help that.  So I have to help myself.

I like the idea of accepting compliments and not having to keep myself down by parrying with a negative remark at my expense.  For example, "That was a really good story, Chris!"  "Hey, thanks!"  No problem there.  But, when it comes to ME, as a person, friend or lover....... "Chris, you really know how to make me laugh."  "Well, that's because you just look at my face."

Jokes are nice, and I like having a sense of humor, but when it comes down to them being at my expense?  Not very healthy.  So, something to work on.

I'm in this life for a reason.  I want to do something good with this life, because it's the only one I have.  Why should I be sad?  There are so many good things about my life, and most importantly, I know now that I'm not in it alone.  And maybe, just maybe, I'm not meant to be alone forever.  Or, at least, not alone all day, every day, in every way.

I have friends, and I know it.  I can tell them anything, and I know that they don't judge, and genuinely want to help me.  And not because they feel sorry for me - because they like me as a person.  And that person I want to be is not depressed.

Now, to work on that whole "relationship" thing......

When Things Get Rough... Use Sandpaper

"When the going gets tough, the tough get going."

I love this quote, although I'm not sure if it would apply to me.  Not that I don't consider myself tough - I can hold my own, be patient beyond all normalcy, and could probably fight my way out of a random attack.  But it just seems like there's always something more that I could do.

I didn't save enough money, or I didn't say or do the right thing.  I couldn't afford this or it was too difficult for me to accomplish. 

All these things I wish I could do and haven't done.  Does that make me weak?  Unlucky?  Cursed forever to not have anything I want, whether it be normalcy, acceptance, trust, or love?

I just can't get it out of my head that there's something I'm doing wrong, something that makes me unappealing, to the point where I have no real friends.  But then, on that note, I argue with myself.  "If you were to call 'Jane Doe,' and tell her that you need her help now, would she come and help you?  What about 'John Doe?'"

I can answer yes for several names inserted into this question.  I know people who would come to me if I was in a bad situation - I've had people tell me repeatedly to call them if I need anything, or just to come over, or that they're there for me...

But I never call.  Is that why I'm alone?  Am I choosing to be?  And why?  I don't want to be alone!  I want love, and a lasting relationship, and happiness!  I want all of this, and yet... I am choosing to not have it?  Do I not want myself happy?  Do I despise myself that much, that I would keep myself in misery for my entire life?

Did I really do nothing wrong in my last failed relationship?  Or the one before that.  Huh, 2 relationships in 4 years, and one only lasted a month.

I am alone.  When I need someone, I don't call.  When I want someone, I don't call.  But my big problem is: would someone need me, or want me?  It always seems like someone can call someone they are closer to, or someone they trust more.  Or love more.

Why can't that someone be me?  Here's my main question:  Am I choosing to be alone, or am I alone by someone choosing someone else?

I tend to over-think, and over-complicate matters.  I tend to make jokes, and try to be funny.  I tend to talk tough and say "I'm fine."  But, at the end of the day, when someone else has found their Romeo, or their Juliet, I want that.  But, maybe that's not what I need.

Maybe I need sandpaper.  Someone who will help me get rid of the rough edges, the scars that aren't visible, the worry lines on my aging face - they won't go away.  I worry all the time.  I stress all the time.  I'm sad.  All the time.

But, nobody uses sandpaper.  They use their smooth hands to pat.  It does nothing.  Will I ever find someone who can, and wants to, and truly feels like they should, take the time to sandpaper the rough person that is me?

Will I?

So, I went and filmed at the Fred Meyer Night last night, where it was rumored there would be giveaways, cool prizes and fun for the new college students.

The only problem: I received their "goody bag" of items for the back-to-school college student, and I think I'm doing this whole school thing wrong.  I need to be taking more pain killers, grow my hair longer, worry more about age lines and use my doors as my closet.

Let me explain.

I received a brown paper bag, and when I asked what was inside, the employee managing the bin said "random stuff."

Oh boy!  I wouldn't get the same thing as everyone else!  Maybe it would be like elementary school, where I'd have something someone else wanted, and I'd swap, and be popular!

But, alas.  I received a bottle of Naproxen, Loreal hair care samples, simply ageless samples, and an over-the-door plastic hanger.

Uh, WHAT!?!?!

I'm a student!  I was looking for pencils, pens, a dinky calculator, maybe, just maybe, even an eraser or paper clips.  But pain reliever?  Pain Reliever???


In today's society, many people experience a slight discomfort in their pinky, and pop 4 Advil or Tylenol.  I, however, do not take pain relievers, because I am hardly ever in pain.

So, looking on the bright side - like I always like to do - maybe I'm just complaining about a joke.  Maybe they simply wanted to get students there to buy school stuff.  Which, I did.  Two 5-subject notebooks for five dollars.  Not bad.

So, thank you to Fred Meyer for the giveaway.  When people say it's the thought that counts, in this case, it really is.