It’s okay to be wrong

*Disclaimer: I am in no need forcing one to believe in something that they do not. I am not writing this blog post to cause any political debate. Everyone has their reasons for the candidate they decide to or do not decide to vote for and I totally respect your choice.

To admit our wrongs can seem like ripping the end of a wax strip, sharp and painful. Sometimes we do not want to mention our wrongness to others because who does not want to be seen as wrong? In our moments of wrong, I feel that our reputation are on the line and that is why I think we strive to make our side of the story to sound the least wrong. Overhearing multiple views of the United States 2016 election has made me think skeptically about the wrongs of our candidates. On one side you hear that Donald Trump, a billionaire business man from the state of New York, from the looks of social media seen as a man known for handling with money and being a white supremacist racist, which I cannot say it is totally true. Perhaps Trump can lead us out of our nearly 18 trillion dollar debt deficiency and push this nation forward economically regardless of his previous bankruptcies. Yet I doubt that this nation could only be run or seen through the lens of an economist. While Hillary Clinton, the spouse of previous 42nd president of the United States Bill Clinton and 2009 Secretary of State from the state of Illinois, by social media is seen as a woman without original ideas and jumping to the most popular answer to win the votes of the voters. Although Clinton does uphold a lot of promises which I am not sure she will be able to keep them all but she seems to be more well rounded when it comes to handling issues with the economy and with social issues. With politics you never really know who is telling the truth or when someone is emphasizing on the wrongs rather than for what the whole person’s characteristics entitle. This is the reason why I do not speak on the behalf of politics because I never know the whole story, by the time the stories get out to the public it has probably been altered by journalists or editors before it hits the platform. I can tell you what I think, but I cannot tell you what is true or false. That is something for you to decide on.

Despite the number of times we have been wrong about someone or about a situation, to make error is a necessary element of maturing and allowing one to understand the other side of the story. I hate being wrong as much as the next person and while I was younger I was not so great at admitting to my errors. Even as I become more of a young adult, this skill of admitting when I am wrong is something I struggle to define. Researching about a topic or reading about it has been something I have done at an early age and even with that I still believe I can be wrong. Like when a story leaves you on a cliffhanger and you are left wondering what is left to be discovered. To be wrong can bring embarrassment and that feeling is not so glamorous but I am more willing to say that yeah I could be wrong or I am wrong, teach me why I am wrong. Now just because you may be wrong that does not make the next person right. The next person could be a little less wrong than you or just as wrong but I would still be open to hear what they have to say. Who knows that what they have to say is the missing piece of information you need to know to understand why someone or something are perceived in that manner. We are wrong everyday no matter how careful we are and whether we know we are wrong or not. As human, we are prone to create error. Lots of error too. Error is unavoidable and the sooner we realize that, the sooner we are able to discuss our wrongness and move on.

What has been an error you committed and how did you handle that?

xx Chavelita

Day 28: From Psychiatrist to Veteran Psychologist

How about that future? While I went to go visit some good friends for the last time before they move out of town, I came across thinking about my future again. Which is not so bad to be thinking about your future, nice to keep those creative juices flowing. Here is how my process of determining my future started. When I was in high school I had gone to Puerto Rico to visit my family and anytime I get to see them is a pleasure. Yet when you do not see family for a long time, they get curious and one of the questions that is never failed to be asked is, “Que vas hacer despues de la escuela?” (What are you going to do after you finish school). At least at that time I had an idea usually I would just shy away and avoid the question as a whole. Well my uncle who is a General Family Doctor asked me that one day I was sitting outside enjoying the sun and breeze. In which I had replied that I wanted to be a psychologist. I was starting to get into psychology because I already knew I wanted to help people in some way and I could picture myself doing that for a good portion of my life. I felt so confident in my answer until my uncle throws in the idea that I should become a psychiatrist instead. This was way before I knew about medicine taking care of the mentally sick so as naive I could be for a fifteen year old I said okay.

Well towards the end of my high school career, I had lost a great friend because of medicine that was used to take care of her emotions. And you know it was not so much how I was treated because of how the medicine changed her behavior but the fact that I was there from the start and saw how the medicine changed her completely from someone I could read from the back of my hand to someone I couldn’t find the words to tell her. I am not going to go into much detail but that is when I realized that I cannot go into medicine. I cannot live with myself knowing that if I gave someone medicine to control their mood and they went through the same difficult transition of having their neurotransmitters and or hormones altered, I would probably not be able to forgive myself. Which brings me in to as I went to apply for college. I decided to stay as a psychology major and find another way I can help people without having to handle medicine. I am a strong believer of cognitive behavior therapy (CBT), which is therapy to help shape or mold unhealthy behaviors into better behaviors by implementing problem solving techniques and ways of coping with the situation that the person is going through. I rather sit down with my patient and speak to them but I will not be prescribing medicine, I will refer them to a psychiatrist if needed but that is the most that I will do for them in that case.

Throughout my first year of college I had two fields of psychology in mind to specialize in, Clinical or Counseling. Which these fields are more or less in the same ball park because in Clinical it is more research based on mental illness or like the alterations of function of the mind while Counseling you have more of the hands on experience of diagnosing patients. At least that is what I think, these are not the formal terms but for the sake of this blogpost I’m going to keep it casual. So I have gotten myself involved in research to learn more about the different fields of psychology to see if there was something that I was missing out that I would probably like to consider as I get closer to graduate school. And if my lab mentor is reading this she is going to be happy, but I have found Human Factors psychology to be an interesting field. It was not until I got to college that I found out what Human Factors psychology was and I like to refer to this field as like the engineering of psychology. There is just so many fascinating researches happening at my university in this field and I am constantly hearing about The National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) and how big of role Human Factors play. Sometimes even I want to fangirl and I am probably the one that is least interested in comparison with my lab mates.

Then I had a conversation with my oldest brother who has already graduated from college about how my classes were going and I do not remember clearly what I had written on Facebook but we got to the topic of Veteran Psychologist. I imagined myself being a Veteran Psychologist and the idea of being one is not bad at all. Growing up as a military kid, I am familiar with veteran hospitals so to picture myself working at one, I do not think it would be a bad idea. I would also be giving back to the veterans and I may also get benefits for working with the government so that would be another thing that I would not have to worry about. I know that I am may be potentially placing myself in a difficult path because of possible stories from these veterans but I am still willing to give it a go. Who knows what I will learn from that experience if I decide to settle with this route in the future.

Overall my love for psychology has only grown in abundance and I am excited about learning more of what other fields of psychology has to offer before having to make my final decision for grad school! I also want to add that you can always change your future, you do not have to settle down with your childhood career or with someone else’s idea of who you should be if you do not want to. Figuring out your future is a process that constantly needs work so please do not expect that it is going to come with a snap of a finger or with a rub of a lamp (trust me I tried and it sadly did not work). You take the time your need to plan out what you want to take with this life that we are given. I doubt anyone has their life completely planned out from start to finish so do not be afraid to try new things and to enjoy the ride as you figure out what you want to accomplish and become!

What career do you have in mind?

xx Chavelita

My first pet

In my family, having a pet was out of the question. My mom would repeatedly say, “Y tu, vas a limpiar mierda de perro?” (Are you going to be the one cleaning dog poop (only she wouldn’t say the nice diction of poop)?) , “No voy a limpiar despues de ellos!” (I am not cleaning up after them!), or something along those lines and that is where the conversation always ended. After multiple attempts of persuasion, I found no use to bring up the conversation and have all of them end in the same way that it started. All my friends were left with their mouths open whenever I mentioned that I did not have a pet and I honestly did not understand what was the whole hoopla of having them because of the way my mom would describe pets. I knew I was missing out but I just was not affected as much by it because I did not have the experience of looking after a mammal that had more legs than I did. I didn’t think my opportunity would come to have a pet until the Fourth of July. It just so happened to be the Fourth of July, none of this was actually planned out. I happened to be sitting outside of my backyard, building up the courage to have a serious conversation with my dad when suddenly I start hearing mews coming from my behind. At first I thought it was just a cat roaming around the neighborhood streets because I constantly hear them especially at night, but the sound was coming from underneath these unused wooden floorboards we have stacked at the corner of our backyard. I slowly approached and dipped my head to see, and there they were two kittens hiding. As soon as the small orange kitten came out of hiding, my heart instantly melted and I took my phone out to take pictures because that week in a world that has been filled with ugly anecdotes of murdering one another, you just have to treasure the innocent moments. He had a sibling with black, white, and orange fur but he seemed to be more timid. Both equally cute though. But I just had this feeling that my mom was not going to take them in, more so with her allergies. So I did not bother to give the kittens a name because as soon as you start with the names then giving them away would be more difficult. On that same day my family was able to find the black kitten a home with my brother’s friend but we were still struggling to see who would take the orange kitten. I posted on social media about finding the kittens in my backyard, reached out to friends who were willing to adopt, but adopting a kitten is hard work and need constant attention. They are not just cats that can be given a home, food, and water and you are done. You have to bottle feed a kitten, make sure that they are comfortable and warm, take notice whenever they start meowing, provide the love, litter box, and just hope that the kitten does not get sick or start missing the mama cat. Just the thought of taking him in was stressing me out, I did not think I was able to handle the constant need of reassuring myself that everything will be happening under their own reasons. Somehow I was able to convince my mom to take him to the shelter and as soon as I sat in the passenger seat of the car with the kitten my mom cracks. She’s in the driver seat feeling sad and almost in tears to have to let him go. Keep in mind that she was the one opposing in keeping the kitten in the first place. Either way we went to the services and we sat there in the few moments that we had with the kitten until they took him. The person who took the kitten said that if they were not able to find a foster mother for the kitten that they would have to put him down. I do not think I have seen such a petrified concerned look on my mom’s face. Speechless as she was, we both left thinking what the hell did we just do? Although I was questioning why my mom was crying, even I had a lump in my throat. A kitten who we barely met and he was already bringing in so much emotion and changes within my family. When we got back from taking him, the house was soon quiet again like it has been for the past weeks. My family has not been in the best terms as they could be right now and I guess the kitten was a good distraction from all of it. I was starting to miss the little guy.

The next day my mom wakes up and she is dressed. My brother who has also been upset about the kitten not being at the house, state that they were going to the animal services to pick up the kitten. I decided to stay home because I knew if they were not going to give my mom the kitten back, I would not know how to handle the situation well. About an hour or so passes, and I hear the garage door opening. My brother with a smile on his face, and my mom with a sign of relief to have the kitten back in her arms. This has definitely been a test of love and I felt a little more complete myself to have the little fur ball back. I somehow had this feeling that the kitten was already a part of the family but I did not want to be jumping up in glee unless I knew for sure. My brother decided to call him Little Jack which I do not mind but I call him Jack since I know he is not going to be small forever. Besides little people such as myself do not like to be called little, I find that to be degrading. The stress and worry are still there because I have little to no experience in taking care of animals but I have been putting in the work to learn more. Constantly researching, more to keep me at ease than to actually benefit Jack though, it’s still nice to know in case he were to ever get worms and so forth. When I have a life depending on me, I cannot just be like, “Oh I don’t know…” because I know if my mom did that to me I wouldn’t be so happy or trusting. So everyday I try to learn something new about Jack. I am a bit late on the bandwagon to be having my first pet at 19, but Jack could not have come at a more better time. Glad to have him in my life regardless of the biting and the scratching. His appearance could make anyone gawk especially with his blue eyes.

What was your first pet?

xx Chavelita

 

Day 30: The haircut

If you have not noticed yet, this recent May I went to the beauty salon and cut more than half of my hair off. I have been planning on cutting it short for a while now and especially with the intention of donating the hair to a charity that makes wigs, I just knew that I wanted to go short. Since I have been in middle school and high school, having long hair was the total trend. The majority of the girls would grow it out long and get trims within the year, and do not get me wrong I was the same way. It was like the girl code of goals to follow when it came to hair. The idea that long hair was pretty and short hair was underappreciated floated around the halls of my school. You just did not hear often of girls getting short hair cuts. As soon as I graduated from high school, I had went to the local salon to cut my hair because I could no longer stand the struggle of keeping up with hair that reached to my hip bone. I remember pulling my hair all the time especially when I would get out of bed, my hair would get stuck to my seat sometimes, my hair would brush my arm and I would swat at my arm thinking it was a bug, and washing it was just a nightmare! Without wanting to be wasteful, I decided to keep the hair that I had gotten snipped off so I can send it to an organization that would use my hair to make wigs with other strands of hair. Just like I had captioned on my revealing photo, I had fun with my long hair and I hope that someone else has the same fun as I did.

My first hair donation was in 2015 and now with my most recent cut in 2016, I decided to go shorter. I wanted to test out how I would look with short hair and if my haircut decided to go terribly wrong I would just have to remind myself that hair grows back. Since I am one blind chick without my glasses, during the cutting process I had no idea how my haircut was turning out. All I remember is my hair stylist using razor to cut a big chunk of my hair that I was donating and using a razor to make sure she was cutting the hair evenly. I was okay with the scissors but the razor just brought me to a whole level of stress because she would continue cutting with razor, that I was fearing that she was going to shave a side of my head. Now that I would not have the words to describe how I feel. Thankfully that was not the case. I have been very impressed with the turnout actually. Before she started to cut my hair I had shown her what kind of hair cut/hairstyle I was aiming for on my phone and even though I briefly showed it to her, she immediately had an idea of what she was going to do.

In all my haircuts, I have been known to sit there in silence. I am more of that person that would rather overhear other people conversations than to make small talk with someone that I was going to spend at most half an hour with. There is just something soothing about getting your hair cut though, the hair wash, the head massage, that liberating feeling you get when you cut a big portion of your hair that you have been so used to carrying the weight with you everyday. You end up feeling like a new person when you leave the salon. You know sometimes you just have to take risks when it comes to haircuts and see where the new look takes you. In the future I want to see if I have enough confidence to cut my hair even shorter and see if I can pull of that look. As of now, I am loving my short hair! So much easier to handle and care for. Since my hair is naturally straight after I wash my hair it’s like a sleek piece of silk framing my face. I barely use my straightener anymore and I rather prefer not. Rather enjoy the all natural look and let my hair be free!

How short have you cut your hair before?

June 2015

May 2016

xx Chavelita