Do You Believe In Magic?

One year ago, my cousin, Dana, and I spent ten days in Israel embarking on a unforgettable journey. We were extremely fortunate to be part of Bus #1111 on the Taglit-Birthright program. This program provides funding for young Jews to travel to Israel at no cost. We spent ten days traveling through our Homeland creating memories, sharing adventures, and forming a family with the group of people we traveled with. I think it safe to say that Dana and I became closer than we ever thought imaginable, and that those ten days were some of the best of our lives.

However, the start to our vacation while still memorable, was a little bit more stressful than we had anticipated. Aside from taking after our grandmother as very literal and confused (yet happy) humans, we got lost in the airport a few too many times. After that came security guards not speaking English, our luggage being taken off of the plane from Detroit to New York because it was too heavy, almost being kidnapped by a very persuasive man in an unmarked taxi car, and trying to figure out why a caesar salad cost fifteen dollars. And this all happened before our Birthright trip even began. Needless to say, we were already exhausted when finally arrived at the airport in New York, eager to meet the amazing group of people we would be spending the next week and a half with.

As we anxiously walked up to our new group of friends, we immediately clicked with a girl named Rachel. She helped us make name tags, we had a few laughs, decided we were all starving already, and then found out that we were with the wrong group. The group Dana and I were supposed to be with was on the other side of the airport. So we said goodbye to Rachel, picked up our bags, and ran across the airport.

We were finally there. Our two trip leaders were young and vibrant and eager to meet us. But at this point, Dana and I were tired. We were up all night trying to locate our bags, we missed breakfast that morning, we almost got on a plane with the wrong group of people, and to top it all off, right there in the airport after 20 people tried introducing themselves to us, something slimy fell on to my head. Yes, there was a bird living in the fake tree 15 feet above my head, and yes, right there in front of my group and my cousin, this lovely little bird decided to poop on my newly curled hair and white fleece shirt. I didn't know how to react. Of course I laughed it off while on the inside my hypochondriac self could only think of how I had to get on a plane for 14 hours without showering off the goo. But what came next is the best part of the story.

As I was debating what to do, three girls I had met not even a minute earlier were already picking bird poop out of my hair, offering me towelettes and hand sanitizer, and assuring me that we would find the nearest bathroom so I could clean off.

Was this really happening? I had no idea who these girls were yet they were willing to touch bird poop in order to help me clean off? Yes, they were. These strangers simply smiled with me and laughed and made sure this would be a moment I would look back on and not feel embarrassed about.

My way of living has always been to be kind to those we meet. However, there are so many moments in my life that stand out where I met people and went through situations where that same philosophy of kindness was not understood or embraced. But right there in the JFK airport in New York City, one act of kindness toward me completely changed my disposition that day. The frustrations of lost luggage and expensive food and weirdly built airports seemed to seem less and less with the kindness of my new friends (new friends who over the course of ten days became family).

Now, if that one small act of kindness could completely change my mood, think of what kinds of amazing things could ensue if more people were kind more of the time? What if more of us treated strangers like their equals? What if more of us treated each other with respect? What if more of us simply did one nice thing a day for someone else? Holding open a door, lending a pencil, sharing your lunch? We don't need to be Ghandi in order to change the world, because you never know in what ways you are changing someone's world with a simple compliment, "hello", or smile. After all, it's the small moments like this that we string together in order to create the big moments that we all deem to be "life changing", "inspirational", "magical". Even picking bird poop out of someone's hair becomes a moment that a person may never forget.

There is a homeless women that sits on a street that I walk down once a week at school in Ann Arbor, Michigan. She holds a sign that says "Kindness helps". While she may be referring to money as kindness, I also choose to believe that she is referring to warmth and acknowledgement. Because isn't that what most of us really want? To be made to feel as though we are important no matter the circumstance? With our lives being hectic and our own worlds sometimes seeming like they are the most significant, we tend to forget that everyone else has their own world that they are the center of and that sometimes someone else's world may be struggling. Sometimes a series of unfortunate events can take place in someone else's world, and even though those events may not directly affect us, is that any reason that we can't show love and compassion toward each other while being kind and helpful?

So let's be kind to the people we don't know, sure. But let's also be kind to the people we do know. The people we live with. The people we see everyday at work or school. The people we work with while volunteering. Because it may be simple to show kindness to a stranger by letting someone cut you in line at Potbelly or Panera Bread, but it may be a little more complex showing kindness to the people in our lives who we may take for granted. Showing kindness to our friends and family isn't just being nice, it's showing appreciation. Making sure that person knows they don't just matter to the world, but they matter to you personally. Your best friend may think she knows how important she is to you, but at the end of the day, we are all trying to navigate this crazy life, and little reminder never hurts.

There is a new Disney remake of Cinderella coming to theaters this year. One of the quotes from the movie is: "Where there is kindness there is goodness, and where there is goodness there is magic". So for this year, 2015, let's be kind, let's be good, and maybe together, we can create some magic.

14 Things I Learned in 2014

A new house, back surgery, new friends, harder classes, smiles, tears, unforgettable laughs and never ending memories, this year had it all. As I reminisce on 2014, I can't help but count the things I have learned this year, and remember that no matter how old we get, we always have something new to learn.


1. Keep your toothbrush in your bedroom.
With only one shower and a house full of girls, I was never sure when I would be able to get in to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Keeping your tooth brush in your bedroom isn't only convenient, but it could save you from some awkward intrusion moments.

2. Elle Woods is truly an inspiration.
While Elle Woods has always been a role model of mine (laugh if you must), channeling her peppy and bright attitude helped me through a roller coaster of a year. Vote for Elle!

3. No one (well, very few) will judge you based on your iPhone case.
This year I learned that designer labels truly don't matter. No one cares if your iPhone case is Tory Burch or if your winter boots are Sorel. Just wear what you want and be who you are.

4. Christmas lights should not just be reserved for Christmas.
This summer I decorated my room with christmas lights and haven't turned them off since. They really make tough days brighter and happy days even more sparkly.

5. Don't ever take your health for granted.
With a spinal injury this year that threatened the comfort of my future, I truly learned what health means and why it is so important for us take care of our bodies. Be kind to yourself by eating what is good for you and exercising whenever you get a chance. We only get one body. Don't mess this up.

6. You aren't your resume.
You know that piece of paper that most of us freak out about and edit on a biweekly basis? Well I am sorry to break the news, but darling, you are so incredibly more amazing than what it says on a piece of paper. Don't let some typed words hold you back from continuing to follow your dream. While yes, having work experience and decent grades will help us find jobs and get in to grad school, who we are as a person actually matters. Letters of recommendation are extremely important as well. Remember to treat people right, and I'm sure people will treat you well, too.

7. Cutting your hair off won't solve your problems.
As an impulse decision this past September, I cut all of my hair off hoping it would solve everything undesirable in my life. I had a "new year, new me" attitude. I was wrong. All it caused was bad hair days that couldn't be covered with a hat. This year I learned that no matter what I look like on the outside, it really is what is on the inside that will always shine through.

8. Complaining about the weather will not make the sun shine.
Yes friends. We know. It's cold outside. It rained last week. The humidity made your hair frizz. After listening to myself and my friends complain more about the weather this past year than ever before, I realized that even though we want to blame bad weather on our worst enemy or even Obama, there is no one out there to blame. So suck it up, build a snowman, and keep from slipping on the ice.

9. Self confidence should not be synonymous with Instagram likes. 
While it's hard not to think that the amount of likes we get on Facebook or Instagram is also the number of people who like us as a person, it's important that we remember that our interactions with people should exist outside of the internet. Your Fishbowl from the bar may not rake in more than 30 likes, but that has nothing to do with how you should feel about yourself. Focus more on what you think of yourself than what others think of you. Most of the time our social media is some sort of performance for the world. Don't forget to take off the costume once in a while and be yourself.

10. "You is kind, you is smart, you is important."
This year, my roommate, Lindsay, made me sit down and watch the movie The Help. I was hesitant not only because I am not, and never have been, a "movie person", but I truly didn't think it would hold my interest. But I was so wrong. The Help immediately jumped to my top five favorite movies for multiple reasons. However, one of the most important reasons was because of the line: "You is kind, you is smart, you is important". This line was said from one of the characters who plays the role of "the help" to a young three or four year old girl. While the whole movie is centered around what someone looks like (the color of their skin), she made sure that the young girl did not judge herself based on her appearance. She never told the young girl you are beautiful, you are sexy, you are hot. She simply helped the little girl focus on what truly matters: what is on the inside is what counts, and that is what will make you important.

11. Friends=Family.
While many of us say things such as "She's like my sister", or "I could never date him, he's like a brother to me", what I have learned this year is that you are born in to a family, and then there is another family you choose: your friends. While I went through struggles, this year, I learned who my true friends really are, and that they are in my life for a reason. From my best friend Abby bringing me a red balloon after my back surgery (she knows that I have a special attachment to them), to my best friend Emma confiding in me when she needed a friend, to Lauren and I surprising our best friend Ellie at the airport after her four month journey through Europe, I have learned that we meet people who will change our lives, and we have to cherish them the best we can. However, on the flip side of friends=family, I have learned that family=friends. My sister Sierra and I are only one year apart, but this past year we have became closer than I ever thought imaginable. Sierra is "my person", and I would have it no other way.

12. People, people, people!
This year I was lucky enough to have some really amazing people come in to my life, and sadly had to say goodbye to others. So squeeze the people you love, surround yourself with positive humans, and dance the night away. You never know who you will meet that could change your life, and you truly never know when your last goodbye will be. So just be with people who make you happy!

13. Take an art class.
With so many of us stressing about work, school, etc., do something creative and let your mind run free. Photography, knitting, writing. Anything that makes you happy! It will be like your brain can go to a spa or take a vacation from some of the nonsense we call life.

14.Embrace today.
Yes, 2014 is almost behind us. And with the new year will come what many of us believe to be a fresh beginning. But why not start your fresh beginning right now? Why not deal with today's problems today instead of procrastinating until tomorrow, and why not call your best friend and tell them how much they mean to you right this very moment? A big shiny ball in New York City dropping to the ground isn't a requirement for you to start living your life right now.

I wish everyone a healthy and happy holiday season!

With love, Cheyenne

Keep Calm and Carry On

Nails were being painted, food was being eaten, Grease was playing on ABC Family. Typical Monday night at the Stumble Inn. As we watched the 50s inspired movie, I started verbalizing my fantasies about growing up in the fifties, complete with poodle skirts, diners, drive-ins, and yes, even dating. The girls in the room also voiced their opinions about the 50s, wishing that dating still existed. The kind of dates where two people get to know each other before they kiss, where they get to know each other before they have sex.

You may be thinking that the dating culture still exists. Online dating sites such as eHarmony really promote a healthy pattern of dating in order to begin a relationship. However, my generation has been exposed to a hookup culture. The term “hookup” can mean a variety of things. Anything from making out to full-blown sex. And this is the kind of “dating” we have experienced. Apps for phones, such as Tinder even help us find people in our area that aren’t looking for an emotional connection, but just some “fun" for the night.

In today's hookup culture, a lot of our generation has never experienced a relationship before a relationship. Is it such a novel concept to want to make a connection with someone on an emotional level before making a connection with someone in bed?

While some feminists believe that the disappearance of the dating culture is a step forward for women (not relying on men to initiate dates, pay for meals, etc.), others view its disappearance as a step backward, a step toward self-objectification of women where they believe that their body is on display for the gaze of men, needing and wanting to be ready for men to take control at any moment. While the hookup culture places the sexual experience as the number one priority between two people, these two people sometimes turn their hookup into a relationship. Even people on Tinder sometimes end up dating. This reversal of emotional connection and sex in the order of how people couple up has placed some people in a frustrating situation, and some people in a position in which they feel comfort.

So if there are people in the hookup culture who do indeed value sex over a relationship, who are any of us to say they are wrong? No one. However, for those who feel they would want an emotional relationship before a relationship of the bedroom, how likely is it that they will feel compelled and pressured by society to make sex the starting point of the relationship?

After talking with friends I have noticed that many young women feel the need to remain "chill". They feel as though voicing their opinions about wanting a relationship with their "hookup" is crossing the line, and they fear becoming "the crazy girl he used to sleep with". So are young women today giving up what they actually want and who they want to be for the sake of men and our society's hookup culture?

This notion of changing who you are to get the one you want is not new to my generation. It can even be seen in Grease, the movie my friends and I had previously been idolizing. Throughout the movie, the main character Danny tries to become less of a "bad boy" and more of a "good guy" by trying to become an athlete to win over the other main character, Sandy. Even on his last day of high school, he can be seen wearing a varsity letter sweater in hopes of Sandy viewing him as good and clean. However, Sandy changed as well. At the end of the movie, Sandy changed from a "goody goody" to a "bad girl" dressing in a leather outfit, lots of makeup, high heels, and sporting a cigarette, in order for Danny to see that she is more than the goodie-two-shoes, “Sandra D”.  While yes, Sandy and Danny, both the male and the female, tried to change who they were for the sake of the attention of the other, it was the man who won out in the end, stripping his appearance of the athletics sweater, and riding off in to the sky with his "true" love.

But is it really true love if someone is changing who he or she is? This idea can be seen by children young enough to comprehend even Disney movies. In The Little Mermaid, Arielle gives up her voice in order to receive legs so she can fall in love with Prince Eric, and hopefully have the feelings reciprocated. However, if she could not speak, was he supposed to fall in love with only her bright red hair, tiny waist, and dazzling smile? Again, promoting the idea that women are objects and shouldn’t be valued on an emotional level.

Now don’t get me wrong. I am 100% a Disney fan. The music makes me smile, and I will forever have some of the songs on repeat in my head.I still believe in Fairy Tales, and that everyone deserves a happy ending. I believe that girls pretending they are royalty helps them view themselves as someone of importance. The problem of Disney is when the story line tells girls they need a man to be happy, complete, and safe (but that is a whole other can of worms).

Although Disney doesn’t show two people forming a relationship based off of sex, is their version of sex something as simple as kissing? So many of the Disney princesses are saved by “true love’s kiss” with someone whom they barely know. Are children subconsciously receiving the message from a young age that true love and a physical relationship always come hand in hand? Yes, physical and intimate involvement is much of the time part of romance, but promoting the idea that it is the most important part leaves young men and women in sticky situations when they enter true relationships and find that it is more than a honeymoon phase.

One of the most interesting things I have found when talking to friends about dating is the idea of a first date. As young girls, many of us fantasized about being picked up to go on a date, our parents trying to protect us and intimidate us. However, more and more people I talk to don't really know where to draw the line between "hanging out" and actually going on a date. They aren't sure if they have ever been on a date with their hookup or the person they are casually seeing. Are we the ones who are making dating disappear by skipping straight to sex?

So now what are we supposed to think? What do my friends do when they don’t want to be the “chill” girl in the relationship anymore? What do they do when they are at a party and they meet a guy they are physically AND emotionally attracted to but he doesn’t feel the same (or vice versa)? What do we tell our parents when they ask why we aren’t dating the guy we hang out with and talk to on a daily basis? What happens when Tinder just doesn’t satisfy the emotional needs someone develops after realizing that casual sex may not be exactly what he or she is looking for?

These are the kinds of questions our generation will have to answer. And it will probably take time and it probably won’t be easy, considering most of our parents and grandparents grew up during a time of courtship and dating. However, I think being who you truly are and embracing your values is a pretty good start to exploring the exciting and frustrating world of sex and love. 

Summer Lovin'

This past weekend, thousands of people witnessed an age-old rivalry in East Lansing, Michigan. The University of Michigan vs. Michigan State University football game. While the rival did not end in favor of my beloved Wolverines, we put up a good fight. What may have been even better than the game though was the tailgating that occurred prior to it. As most of you know, before the game comes the pregame, and before the pregame comes the pre pregame. This weekend, my friends and I traveled from Ann Arbor to MSU in East Lansing in hopes of having some fun before the real rivalry of a football game began. However, despite being a student at U of M, the tailgate I took part in in East Lansing may have been one of my favorites thus far. I know what you are wondering, ‘How could that be? With all of that green and white surrounding you?’ Well let me explain.

When I was nine years old, I became a camper at Wooden Acres Camp (WAC). It is a small, Jewish, sleep-away camp that, at the time, was located in Rothbury, Michigan (it has now been relocated to Lexington, Michigan). That first summer, my sister, Sierra, and I couldn’t have been anymore nervous. Well we were excited as well, but we didn’t know what to expect at camp. Would we fit in? Were our counselors going to be nice? Was the lake going to be too cold to swim? As the first day of camp quickly approached, the butterflies in our stomachs multiplied up until the night before we were supposed to leave. Our parents took us to our favorite restaurant as a “goodbye” dinner. We both devoured our cheeseburgers, and my dad and I split the cream puff for dessert. The dinner was great at the time, but when food poisoning hit a few hours later, I was regretting it. Sierra and I were going to have to be two days late to camp due to my upset stomach.

The anxiety quickly set it. As if we weren’t already nervous enough, we were now going to be the “new girls”. Friendships were already going to be established, activities would be chosen, and people were going to keep asking why we were late. For an eight and a nine year old, this was the end of the world.

Our parents drove us up to camp two days after it began. The four-hour car ride seemed like eight, but we wished it had lasted just a few hours longer. When we pulled up to camp, we were met by the owner’s wife Linda, who happened to be a friend of our mom. She made us feel comfortable right away by embracing us with hugs and offering her warm smile. However, as Sierra and I peered over to the big white tent to our left, we saw our fellow campers and the nerves heightened. But this was it. We unloaded the car, kissed our parents goodbye, and entered the big white tent with everyone else. Sierra and I were then split up due to the fact that we were in different bunks. She was in “Sunrise” with her age group, and I was in “Frontier” with mine. We squeezed each other’s hands and worriedly let go, ready to face the girls.

Linda introduced me to my counselors, Lauren and Molly. They were probably two of the prettiest girls I had ever seen! They were older, and cool, and they welcomed me with open arms. They quickly introduced me to the other girls in my bunk. I’m not sure what I had been so nervous about. The girls were so excited to have one more new friend, ready to embark on an eventful summer. My nerves quickly faded away, I grabbed a plate of chicken nuggets, and it was the start of something new.

The three weeks at camp passed too quickly. The girls I had been so nervous to meet quickly became my friends, and the friends whom I would consider family for the next six summers. Through laughs and heartbreak and fights and hugs, we were there for each other through it all. Only a few of us took on the transition from camper to counselor, but becoming a counselor opened doors to a whole new set of camp friends who also became family. Family that reunited a few times every year, which brings us full circle to the U of M vs. MSU tailgate at the Alpha Tau Omega fraternity in East Lansing, Michigan.

Most of my camp friends ended up being at this tailgate. Reunions, hugs, pictures, drinks, more pictures, a little bit of dancing, we all gathered as if no time had passed at all. Even our friend, Michael, from Montreal made the trek. Being surrounded by people who I consider family couldn’t have made me feel anymore love. I realized that these are the people I want standing next to me at my wedding. The people I want my kids to call “aunt” and “uncle”. The people I want to be doing wheelchair wheelies with one day in a nursing home. It was at this moment I realized camp friends are the best friends. And here are the reasons why.

         

      1.They have seen you at your worst.

No makeup, no hair gel, sweatpants and a tank top. They have seen you when you don’t look like you are a member of the human species, and they love you anyway.

2.You have killed together.

Bugs, spiders, mosquitos, and flies. They are your partners-in-crime for anything insect related.

3.Your 2 a.m. heart-to-hearts will never be forgotten.

Star-gazing in the middle of the night while pouring your hearts out to each other is something you will probably only experience at summer camp.

4.There is probably a 75% chance that one of them was your first kiss/boyfriend/girlfriend.

And there were probably 25 other children there to witness it.

5.Kitchen raids.

Oh yes, you did indeed sneak in to the kitchen with your best friends in the middle of the night to steel potato chips/ice cream/anything else that can cause high blood pressure and diabetes.

6.They were there for one of your “firsts”.

Your first time making it up on water skis, your first period, the first time you liked a boy, etc. You name it, and I’m sure one of your camp friends will recollect it.

7.Whether it has been ten days or ten years, reunions feel like it has only been an hour.

No matter how long you go without seeing each other, you can probably pick up right where you left off.

8.You have peed in the woods together.

And probably had some sort of sing-along to accompany it.

9.You have going skinny-dipping together. On multiple occasions.

Enough said.

10.Because at the end of the summer when camp was over, you held each other sobbing until the sun rose, making promises that over the school year nothing would change, and next summer you would all be back.

So yes, some of us are rivals. Some of my camp friends cheer for the Spartans and some cheer for the Wolverines. Some of us are still active at camp and some of us aren’t. But at the end of the day, the love we have for each other is not something that can be broken by a school rivalry. Now, an end-of-camp color war rivalry? Well that is a different story.

Sign My Funeral Program, Please

Last week, I came down with a virus. Sore throat, awful cough, runny nose, a temperature, the usual. Getting out of bed was difficult and like any person who is sick, I just wanted to lay in bed while my mom made me chicken noodle soup. However, being a sick college student is hard. Going to class, writing papers and studying for midterms when all you want to do is sleep. And I was no exception. However, my 9 a.m. class last Wednesday morning seemed to be pushing it. Not only did  I need my sleep to get better, but I truly did not want to infect the other students in my class, knowing that they had a paper due the next day as well. So I emailed my teacher apologizing for the class I would be missing and that I would bring her a doctor's note to excuse my absence. She kindly replied to feel better, and to remind me that I had a paper due the next day.

As simple as this sounds, of course it wasn't. Of course, I forgot to ask the doctor for a note. However, she had given me copies of the prescriptions she wrote, so I assumed  this would be good enough. I was wrong.

When I told my teacher that I forgot to get a doctors note but showed her the copies of the prescriptions, she told me this wasn't good enough and I would have to go back and get a signed note. Because we all have time to walk 20 minutes there and 20 minutes back while trying to study for three mid terms.

Although her answer saddened me, I remembered that this was the same class that requires documentation even if you miss class for a funeral. She told us "make sure you get the funeral program signed by the funeral director or have some other form of a documentation". WHAT? I am suppose to have the funeral director sign my program ensuring that I was actually there? Can you say distasteful? Disrespectful? I understand teachers and professors wanting documentation for an absence, but at some point there is a line that has to be drawn, one which I believe our society has crossed.

This summer, one my friends from high school unfortunately passed away. When I emailed my professor that I would not be in class and asked if I could turn my work in via email, she responded coldly that it would be fine, signing her email "cheers". She did not send her condolences or even acknowledge my trauma. She simply stated the fact and moved on. However, if a 20 year old had just emailed YOU that her friend had just past away, would you acknowledge it? 

Last winter, a friend of mine needed to be home to say goodbye to her best friend's mother as she passed away after a battle with cancer. However, my friend debated flying home at all due to the fact that she had an exam the same day. She was concerned that she would be unable to take the exam once she had returned to school. Again, here is a 20 year old dealing with death of a loved one, yet she is concerned that school and absence policies would get in the way of her much needed closure. 

The problem with these situations is not only a trust issue, but a problem with how authority figures in our society use their power. I understand that professors need documentation of an absence to ensure that students are not skipping their class. However, what educators, among others, need to understand is that some things are just sometimes more important than school. The exam can wait, the paper can wait, the homework can wait. In this crazy journey we call life, it is important that we prioritize correctly. Now, if you think you need to study instead of going to the bars with your friends, that's a different story and you probably have made the right decision. However, if you are debating going to a funeral or saying goodbye to a loved one because of school work, then there is a problem with the way our education system and our society makes students prioritize. 

Don't get me wrong, school is important, but so are our friends. So is our family. And so is the mourning process when necessary. In order for mourning to take place though, we should be allowed time and energy to focus our attention where it is most needed at that moment. 

However, as students continue to push themselves past their limits in order to obtain a certain job or internship or grade, are we simply doing ourselves an injustice? Are we the ones not taking enough time to be human, mourn deaths, stay healthy, etc.? It is important that as students were learn to slow down and enjoy (and notice) the small things. And for educators, it is important for them to understand that they aren't just in our lives to teach us material from a textbook. In a college setting, they are some of the only adults we may come in to contact with that day or that week. They are role models for who we may want to be in the future. This means showing emotion and giving their students the benefit of the doubt. Not every student is going to try and trick you with an excuse about being sick or an unfortunate funeral. And not every student can handle a trauma and schoolwork at the same time. 

So will I end up going back to the doctor's office to get a signed note that I was actually diagnosed with something contagious and shouldn't be in class? I haven't yet decided. What I do know though is that while yes I am a student, I am friend, daughter, and sister first. And that is one thing that will never change. 

My Year in Halloweentown

With Autumn comes pumpkins, apples, sweaters, and of course, Halloween. The perfect time of year for children to upset their stomachs with too much candy, and for college students to dress up and party with their friends. Here at the Stumble Inn, we are currently in discussion over what our costumes should be. Should we go with a group theme and dress as The Spice Girls? Grease's Pink Ladies? Or do we go our separate ways and pick costumes unique to all of us? Luckily we still have a couple of weeks to decide, but nevertheless, the earlier we pick costumes, the earlier we can DIY and save a few dollars.

Although choosing costumes with the roomies is fun and makes for great conversation, I can't help but think back to Halloween 2013 and the way it changed me as a person forever.

In college you usually have more than one costume during Halloween, considering you usually go to more than one Halloween party. Last year, Halloween fell on a Thursday, so I had a costume for Thursday night and a costume for Friday night. On Thursday I dressed up as a princess, complete with a shiny pink dress, a tiara, and silver heels. On Friday I went a little more outside of my comfort zone and dressed as Barbie, complete with a pink bow and pink tutu (if you haven't detected a theme thus far, my favorite color is pink and I make sure everyone knows it). My costumes were fun and comfortable and made for some great pictures. What I didn't know at the time, was that I wouldn't feel like a princess again for a while.

Although my night as a princess went exactly as planned, my night as Barbie ended with a traumatic event that I was unable to shake. Stress and anxiety set in, my self-esteem lowered, and mental disturbances were ultimately triggered. Shortly after this trauma I was diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD).

Now, if you know me, OCD may not be the first thing that comes to mind. I don't keep things neat and tidy, I don't need my notes in class to be absolutely perfect, and if my socks don't match I probably won't notice. However, it is important to understand that OCD comes in many forms. In my case, it does not come in this easily accessible form of cleanliness. Mine comes in a little bit more of a complex form, one which involves thoughts of disease and death. Although this was a scary time in my life, being a student at The University of Michigan doesn't allow for slacking, and my personality doesn't allow for moping around and feeling sorry for myself. Instead, I masked my fears, plastered a smile on my face, and kept on going.

But the year was far from over.

I entered cognitive-behavioral therapy where I was assisted with dealing with my OCD and overcoming the traumatic Halloween event. I was still unable to look at pictures from that night, being around people was extremely difficult, I couldn't discuss the night without tears, and I was unable to fill my mind with images other than those from that night. I was essentially drowning in my own thoughts, barely able to come up for air.

However, as I continued therapy, I began to go through waves of feeling better and feeling worse. I lived my life on these two extremes for months. The trauma I experienced made it difficult for me to form romantic relationships and foster existing friendships. This was difficult for me because people have always been the happiest and most important part of my life. Although I had absolutely amazing support, I wasn't sure my family truly understood what I was going through until I had to turn down a dream job in fear that my mental weaknesses would get in the way of the job responsibilities. I felt as though I was giving up, and I didn't want to let that happen. So I sought other jobs that would allow me to continue my therapy as well as take my mind off of the still-fresh trauma. I ended up accepting a job as an intern for Cosmopolitan Magazine, which I couldn't have been anymore excited about.

Cosmopolitan is a very peppy, sparkly, shiny, and vibrant company. They have recently redirected the aim for their magazine to a theme of empowering women, and at the time, that is exactly what I needed. However, my job was to use peppiness and happiness to sell Cosmo subscriptions, and I realized that I wouldn't yet be able to take off my smile-painted mask just yet. Still stuck in Halloweentown, I kept the mask on and sold the subscriptions.

When the internship had ended (I applied again and was accepted for this term), I realized that it had taken my mind off of my fears, and I was feeling a bit better. Daily activities weren't as difficult, being around people became some-what fun again, and I felt a genuine smile under the painted one starting to emerge. Just when I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, a traffic jam congested my flow.

As my mental disturbances seemed to be lessening, physical ailments took a turn for the worse. As I have mentioned before, I have serious back problems. However, the problems had seemed to escalate from manageable to down-right brutal. Walking became a luxury which I could only handle in small amount. I began to move less and less which led to leaving the house minimally, which made it difficult to keep my OCD at bay. As my back pain (which turned to nerve damage) worsened, my mental disturbances returned, but this time they came with friends. From lack of movement, I developed diagnosed Depression as well. If you have ever experienced chronic mental and physical pain simultaneously, then you know what I am talking about. If you don't, I am not quite sure I can explain it to you. If my mind didn't have me planning how I would walk from point A to point B with the least amount of pain, my mind was absorbed by troubling thoughts due to the OCD and Depression.

Although the pain I was feeling was something I had never experienced before, I tried to keep a brave face, enter another mask. It was summer time at this point and I was enrolled in classes. I had to focus on keeping my grades up, and that's exactly what I did. Once again, I lowered my smile-painted mask, threw myself in to my studies, and kept trying to tell myself that no matter what I was going through, it could always be worse.

As the summer progressed, I ended up accepting a job at Urban Outfitters (a retail company). I was on my feet for 8 hours at a time (looking back this was not my best decision), but being around people seemed to distract me from my real problems.

I continued to tell myself it could always be worse, and just when I couldn't do that anymore, I found out that the only way to fix my back was through surgery. The surgery would take place two weeks before junior year classes were to begin. Although I was scared, I was secretly relieved. I received the surgery, and my physical pain was immediately remedied. My first steps after surgery were better than a fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies on a rainy day, better than a musical festival with your best friends, and better than kissing in the rain with the man of your dreams. Although recovery took about 8 weeks, it was well worth it.

As the physical pain subsided, so did my OCD and depression symptoms (also thanks to the therapy I was still receiving). As these ailments seemed to lessen, I seemed to be getting closer and closer to the exit of Halloweentown.

But why should the story end there?

Unfortunately, my body seemed to have taken a liking to the pain medication I was prescribed for recovery after surgery. Being weened off of the medication was an experience like no other. My body was in pain, my head tingled, and Depression (a symptom of drug withdrawal) set in once again. Although this lasted only a couple of weeks, going to class while withdrawing from a drug can be a little time consuming. It was hard to enjoy the beginning of my junior year while I was focused on medication. But once again, I kept telling myself that it could always be worse.

Once I was finally weaned off of the medication, I started to see clearly again. However, looking in the mirror has been an inner-battle to see myself in a positive light, one I will probably fight for a while. I see a girl that gained about 25 pounds due to steroids and cortisone shots for my back, but who I should see (and who I am beginning to see) is a young woman who was strong enough to live in Halloweentown for a year while receiving straight A's (except for that darn Spanish class), work two jobs, throw two birthday parties, write articles for a college magazine, and work as a volunteer research assistant through the university. It is sad that society has trained girls like me to see our appearance as the most significant and most valued aspect of ourselves. Barbie, anyone?

While it takes work for me to see that I am stronger than I was before this, it will also take time for me to become Cheyenne again. Not truly having been myself for almost a year, I will need to reevaluate who I am and who I want to be, taking in to account these new experiences. And this is ok! I have entered a new chapter of my life and I hope it's a page-turner. I am excited to get back to dancing through life rather than analyzing everything I do. I am excited to genuinely smile, sparkle, and shine again. I am excited to run without pain, and more importantly, I am excited to finally be able to think and feel with less pain. Pain is a part of life, just as struggle is, but I can finally see the beginnings of my rainbow after the rain. I still participate in therapy once a week in order to keep my OCD at bay and to continue my healing process.

So here is my challenge for you. Be kind, or go away. Mental Illness is not something to be ashamed of, and it is not something to be joked about. Although you can't see a cast, does not mean that healing isn't taking place. You truly never know what kind of battle the person you pass on the street is fighting. And if you are the one fighting a battle, wearing a mask stuck in Halloweentown pretending to be someone or something you're not, don't let the phenomenon of a personal fable blind you to the fact that you aren't the only one going through something. We all have a story, and I hope that yours will end happily ever after.

Luckily for me, I live in a house right now full of laughter and love. Being with these girls at The Stumble Inn allows me to fully unmask, unwind, and slowly learn how to enjoy life again. And I can't wait to see what Halloween has in store for us this year. All that's left is deciding what color M&M each of us wants to be for our costumes.
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If you have depressive tendencies or thoughts of suicide, get help immediately. You are important, you matter, and someone loves you.

Where There is Heart There is Home

When it comes to finding housing in Ann Arbor, nothing is easy. Even though we moved into the Stumble Inn only a short time ago, we are already on the house hunt to find a home for senior year that can accommodate more of our friends. The steps to house hunting are more complicated than one may expect. First, you must find a group of people to live with (have you ever tried to accommodate a group of girls? Not easy). Second, you must send countless emails to landlords inquiring about different properties. Third, you will want to tour you potential home (you will want to know how much mold is growing in the bathrooms and whether or not all of the burners on the stove work). Fourth, you must find a time where everyone can gather to sign a lease and go out for celebratory drinks afterwards.

So it's a process. And the more people you add to your list of roomies, the more complex the process becomes. At the moment, my friends and I are trying to accommodate 13 girls into a house for next year. Yes, you read right. 13. 12 of the girls are in the same sorority, and then there is me. Doing my own thing and dancing through life. Although I am not in their sorority, I am on cloud nine entertaining the thought of living with them next year. I love making friends and becoming close with people. They are funny, smart, hard working, and although we may need to make a few extra tacos for our family dinners next year, I couldn't be happier.

However, going through the housing process with this many girls is not easy. Everyone wants a certain room with a certain price next to a certain person. The emails are endless, and the planning can be a bit tedious. Nevertheless, we will make it work and try to accommodate everyone's needs.

The thing is though, it's this kind of situation when needs are confused with wants. I recently just lost someone near and dear to my heart. Death is something that puts your life in to perspective instantly. Suddenly, nothing in the world matters in that moment except for the people in your life closest to you. Death makes you realize what in your life are needs, and what in your life are considered extra luxuries. Not only does death put needs and wants in to perspective, but it puts time in to perspective. It allows for the realization that our time on this earth is not forever.

It allows us to to realize that we spend too much time analyzing and not enough time enjoying.

Too much time memorizing textbooks for exams and not enough time learning the material.

Too much time judging others and not enough time getting to know them.

Too much time counting calories and not enough time enjoying the taste.

Too much time worrying about how we look and not enough time worrying about what's in our head.

Too much time fighting others and not enough time listening to them.

Too much time looking for love and not enough time loving.

Too much time taking and not enough time giving.

Too much time editing ourselves in pictures and not enough time capturing the moment.

Too much time getting drunk and not enough time dancing at the party.
Too much time worrying about our hair and not enough time worrying about our health.
Too much time caring what others think and not enough time loving ourselves.
Too much time blaming and not enough time forgiving.
Too much time using and not enough time creating.
Too much time talking and not enough time listening.
Too much time thinking we are too cool and not enough time laughing at ourselves.
Too much time in front of our computers and not enough time traveling.
Too much time saving and not enough time buying shoes.
Too much time alone and not enough time with the ones we love.
Too much time telling ourselves that we have more time, because in reality, you just don't know.

In the end, how we choose to spend our time is up to us. But my philosophy has always been and will forever be, no matter what you are doing or where you are going, it is never about the destination or even the journey, but with whom the journey is taken. Living without friends, family, or love is to live without laughter, joy, or companionship. What the juxtaposition of death and finding a home in which to live has taught me that your home is not defined by where your key fits. Your home is defined by where you fit as a person. Defined by where you feel your family is. Defined by where you feel most comfortable living your life to the fullest, spending your time how you want, and being with the people who will allow you to do that. In the end, where there is family there is heart, and where there is heart there is home.

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Rest in peace Uncle Paul. Thank you for always laughing and never hiding your glowing smile. You will forever be in our hearts.