The Call That Started It All

I’m not sure about a lot of things in my life. In fact, there are many things that I question. Like for starters: Am I doing the right thing?

I listen to the wisdom-inspired voices my elders lecture me about time and how precious it is to wait for things. But then I listen to the adventurous voices of my peers, that tell me that life is short and to live everyday as if it is your last (or, as my generation pegs it, YOLO). So I guess another question is: which voice do I listen to? Or even better yet: which voice is right?

I started to think that perhaps there is no such thing as right and wrong but rather what is you and not you.

For a while, drawing that conclusion made me feel like I had figured things out. But in reality, I had simply created an entirely different realm of questions for myself, including the deeper, most important question: who am I?

As a young adult, I am entering a world in which I am unfamiliar with; one in which I have been told about but never really experienced. In this world, I have been faced with situations and ultimately made decisions I would have never thought for I’d make. None bad, just…different; different from what I had been taught was the best thing to do.

This leads me to my story.

As many of you may or may not know, I have a boyfriend for the first time in 22 years. Why? Because I made a decision to do something that was entirely and completely outside of my comfort zone…

Before I continue, I guess I should give a backs story. I met a guy who was unlike anyone I’d ever met before. He was kind and even went out of his way to be social and get to know not only me but, everyone he met. He had the ability to make a person feel special not by simply talking to them but genuinely caring about what they said.

I was one of those people he enjoyed talking to. In our conversations, I discovered that a lot of his thoughts mirrored mine. Though different in the aspects of how we were raised or what we enjoyed doing or listening to, we managed to find commonality in the areas that actually mattered. His views on life and how he believed it should be lived patterned mine down to the letter. And despite different religious practices, he saw God in a way that could put faith into any unbeliever. His mind drew me closer to him.

My encounter with him was on route to being temporary and, at one point, I had accepted that. See, we both were employed as counselors at a summer camp which was to last no more than two month. In his presence, I had originally written him off as a guy I’d compare other guy to because I had this mind set that I did not want a relationship until I was more independent. It wasn’t until he had to leave camp early that I started to realize how much temporary was not what I wanted.

With his absence came a void. I did not know of anyone I could connect with that way again and that thought alone made me restless (literally!). I convinced myself that missing him meant nothing and was simply my mind reflecting on things that would make me feel better (which I now realize made no sense whatsoever lol). Though I had his number, the thought of calling him or texting him just seemed desperate.

But after two days of my thoughts eating me alive (and the fear of never hearing from him again approaching), I decided not only to call him but to also tell him that I really missed him. I remember pacing around Wal-Mart beforehand talking with my cousin Je’Meda on the phone while simultaneously including my friend Becca (who was with me) into the conversation. I was not nearly as dedicated to shopping as I was getting my thoughts out to two people I was use to talking to. The conversation consisted of everything from “I’m not calling him, that’s desperate” to “…but I really want to talk to him!” [Side note: I’m not bipolar, just a female lol]. After an hour of talking in circles, I forced myself to do it: I called a guy I liked.

The call went better than I pictured it in my head. In my mind, he would think I was a total weirdo for calling and tell stories about me to his friends back home. I was nervous about the call initially but hearing his voice helped me realize something I had forgotten in the midst of my cranial chaos: this guy was not just a guy I liked, he was my friend! It was, in all honesty, one of the easiest conversations I could have ever had. There were no fumbled words or awkward silences. He had made me laugh through most of it and made me realize just how much I had, in fact, missed talking to him.

From then on, we began talking any chance we could. Most of my nights off consisted of talking to him for hours outside of the camp’s gymnastics building. Naturally, when camp ended, we made plans to see each other. He lives 3 hours away from me and, for the life of me, I did not think he would be willing to come that far just to see me. Little did I know, I was wrong. If I totaled up all the hours he’s spent driving to come see me, I’m pretty sure he’d qualify for some sort of boyfriend of the year award (I’ll look it up babe lol).

Fast forwarding to now, Shamus and I have been together for a little over two months. He later told me that that phone call I made gave him the confidence he needed to continue to reach out to me and ultimately led us to where we are now. I rewind back to that day and try to imagine what would have happened had I let fear get the best of me. The experience made me realize how much fear had held me back. So in these two months, I have done more than I’ve known I was capable of because he has motivated me to follow my dreams and continue to do what makes me happy.

I guess the point I am trying to make in this entry is to not be afraid to do something. I learned there is no harm in stepping outside of your comfort zone and doing something that terrifies you. Even if the outcome is not one you want, at least you can say you did it. Fear is merely an illusion that holds us back and hinders us from becoming the people God intended for us to be.

And to think this all started with a phone call…


Step One: Start a Blog

I guess this marks the beginning: a check mark next to something that has been on my to do list for well over a year.

So as a reader, there are quite a few things you should know about me. First and foremost, my name is Mercedes Evans and I am a writer. I have always been. I can remember the first time I knew I wanted to be a writer. It was first grade and we were given the assignment to write a story. I don’t remember the story I wrote so much as the passion that fueled it. My story was inspired by the fall. There is something in the colors and beauty of the season that I have always loved and I wanted to show that in my story. But words were not enough. So I cut my story up and pasted it onto these cut outs of pumpkins and decorated it. I wanted whoever read it to look at it and instantly feel fall before they read it. I remember the joy I felt when my teacher found it great enough to post of the fall bulletin board for the month.

I have been writing ever since.

So I guess the question becomes: if I have been writing for so long and I am so passionate about it, why am I just now starting a blog? Well for starters, I have a fear of criticism. Though it is not nearly as intense as it was in, say, high school, it is still there. For many years, this fear has caused me to keep mostly to myself. I never wanted to face rejection or unacceptance because of the way I wrote or thought, so my best defense was to avoid it. I was a more impressionable person back then and would easily let people convince me that the way I was thinking was wrong or misguided if it didn’t line up with the majority. Because of this, I began to think being different was wrong and that I needed to assimilate in order to lead a happier, less stressful life.

However, I have come to realize that there is a reason I am the way that I am. My words, thoughts and ideas have a purpose and I now know that if I continue to hide them, I will never know what that purpose is. So for the first time, I am opening up my truest and deepest thoughts to the world and subsequently embracing all that that entails. I am denouncing the very fear that has governed over most of my life and taking the necessary steps to finding my purpose.

There are words in my head that need to be heard. Not because I seek any sort of recognition for them but because I know there are people out there who can relate to them; whether you are one of my closest friends, a family member, someone I went to school with, someone I encountered or a total stranger. I can relate to you. I know I am not the only person who has been dominated by fear but I do know I am among the few who has made the decision to face it head on and move forward from it.

So that brings me back to this blog.

“Inspirwriting” (pronounced in-spur-rahy-ting) spawned from me acknowledging what has always been the catalyst of my writing: inspiration. That day in first grade, the beauty of fall fueled my writing. It gave me the words and the drive to make the people read and feel why I loved fall. It gave me my calling. I have since been able to find inspiration in so many things that I can no longer say that one particular thing inspires me. Everything does. Everyday that I am alive, I find something that drives me to write because life within itself is my inspiration.

This blog will introduce you to everything that makes me me: my thoughts, my ideas, my philosophies, my passions, my relationships with people and even my vulnerabilities. I can assure you that any question you have ever had about me will be answered and if it hasn’t, ask it!

So I urge anyone reading this to stick around and share this movement. Sharing this blog is honestly more important to me than anything because there could be someone out there who needs to see this, regardless of whether or not you personally choose to follow this blog. The sooner people realize they are not alone is their journey, the better. Life is a much more trying journey when you travel it alone.

I think it’s about time we all started inspiring one another. Don’t you?