An Honest Optimist

A few weeks ago I wrote about an idea I had. During a particularly hard day in a tough week, I decided I would do an interview series showcasing some amazing women in my life. You can read more about what led to the idea in that post, and I know I took a little longer than a couple weeks, but, without further ado...

Let me tell you how I met Liz and let you hear a little from her directly on confidence, struggle and community.

God, the universe, serendipity, whatever force greater than yourself you may believe in, brought us together almost a year ago now.

I met Liz via email. An internal client to my corporate lawyer role. In her role as Vice President of Innovation (that's right, she's cool!), she'd just taken charge of a new business line that was on shaky ground. She came at me with what I perceived as guns blazing and later realized was just her no-nonsense directness; a tool to get things done efficiently. Even in those early days, I was able to quickly get over what I thought was a tough lady's business-only demeanor because it quickly became abundantly clear to me that for every hard question she asked me she was equally prepared and willing to answer mine. That was October.

Sometime in early January, when we were fully moved into our camper and I was already homeschooling in the early mornings before work, I had another virtual meeting with her. At some point in that meeting, she took a swig of something (coffee? whisky? no judgies!) from a mug that spoke to her amazing teacher status. Naturally curious, I asked a question. "Were you a teacher?"

I'm so glad I asked! She is a teacher. That was the start of our friendship.

In February, I met Liz in person for the first time. It turns out Live Oak has been Liz's pit stop, for several reasons, throughout most of her life. We actually have a lot of things in common, including children born on the first of May, 2018.

In April, we were able to have her entire family over for a picnic lunch; our camper dinette could not accommodate a party of 9. I managed to almost burn frozen meatballs (nevermind that I was cooking that in the presence of her husband, who's a chef) and I also managed to find a picnic spot where poor Liz ended up bitten by fire ants!

Nevertheless, in September she invited us to drop by her eldest daughter's birthday party on our way down to Miami for a mixed business/pleasure trip. Liz and I share a bit of a long-distance friendship. She's in New Smyrna, a good 3 hours southeast of our Live Oak home.

Just a few days ago, Liz and the kiddos dropped by again. We had pizza and salad in our unfinished dining room. I was so delighted to have them I didn't take a single picture.

Since January, I've learned and, during our interview, confirmed, that Liz is an incredibly self-assured, homeschooling, career woman with an ingrained sense of perseverance and deep faith. I don't know that she would describe herself that way, but that's the picture that's been revealed to me.

At the start of our interview, I shared with her that part of my motivation for this interview series was my love for getting to know who people really are and my desire to share, with whoever was willing to listen, some amazing people that might otherwise be quickly sized up and passed by.

Without skipping a beat she retorted, "I never think about people sizing me up. I'm just confident in my own choices." She spoke mostly of her children; her decision to homeschool; the shame she's felt when adults at the grocery store (or wherever) experience anxiety because she gives her children the freedom to be one aisle away from her. "I only care about the opinion of the few people I've decided have knowledge to share, or are experts in some topic," she continued, admitting with somewhat of a smirk, "it's career-limiting really, not caring about being popular."

As someone who personally cares a lot about what people think, I was interested in this. I wanted to learn more.

I asked if she had always been like this. "I wasn't always conscious of this trait," she explained, continuing, "I wasn't aware that other people weren't like that." In response to my head nodding she explained, "I only have to answer to God, my husband, and my kids," explaining that even the last one is questionable as children will always question some of our parenting choices. When I asked her how she'd come to be like this she shared a bit with me about her mom, whom she lost at a very young age; her dad, whom she remembers also having that personality trait and whom she lost early in her adulthood; and her post-partum experiences, some of which I, and I'm sure many women, share and some of which I don't think I would have had the strength to handle.

Hearing some of this, I took a deep breath and asked "God only gives you what you can handle?"

"No!" She snickered. "JR (her husband) just said that to me the other day. I'll tell you what I told him. God gives you way more than you can handle. Read Job (the Bible book)! He's given me WAY more than I can handle. But also, there is nothing too big for God and nothing he'll just leave you in."

I suppose that belief, and the grief she's experienced, is why she shared, again, with confidence, "I'm the friend you call when something terrible has happened. I have helped a bit of people through sudden loss, grief, and hard times."

I knew we were getting to the end of the interview so I asked Liz "Why did you decide to give me your time and share your wisdom with me?" Her answer was beautiful in its simplicity and humanity:

"You asked. When people ask you for your time, you might not be able to give in that very moment, but why not give it?" She said, earnestly.

When I thanked her for her time, and for saying yes when I asked, once upon a time in January, to set time on her calendar to talk homeschooling, she responded with sweet and funny joy. Something about her not being for everyone and my being a needle in haystack.

I laughed. I identified.