"Put some lipstick on and smile"

We all say things that are taken in a way we didn't mean.

We also all say things without having any idea the impact they will have.

This happened to me last Saturday night. I was in a place I knew was good to be - listening to an apostle of Jesus Christ give advice and share wisdom and life experience with a room full of people eager to hear his words - and more importantly council from our Heavenly Father.

It was a beautiful evening full of gems that I recorded and am grateful to have been present for.

In the closing minutes came a phrase that is still ringing in my ears and making my heart hurt a bit:

"Ladies put on some lipstick and smile."

What did he mean by that phrase? I don't know.

What did it mean for me? Being transported back to my 19-year-old self in a vulnerable moment.

I was on the way to the bank with one of my college friends who kindly agreed to take me to deposit my work-study paycheck (yep, pre-direct deposit AND pre-bank apps allowing you to upload photos of checks to deposit them). In fairness, I don't remember the context of our conversation, but I do remember what he told me (or what my head and heart heard): "You'll never get married because you don't wear make-up, you don't like dogs, and you can't eat chocolate."

My brain and heart believed those words. "He's right," I thought to myself.

While most of the time I no longer believe those words, they have had a long-lasting impact on me.

And the reality is that nothing in my life has proven them wrong. I've never been someone that guys seek after. I've heard and thought over a million reasons why, and the no make-up factor has come up more than once both externally and internally.

Also, let me give some context - the first time I wore make-up was in fourth grade when I was in a play at school. Make-up made me someone I wasn't. And that trend continued through high school as I continued to participate in stage performances. In addition to wearing make-up for performances, a few times friends really wanted to give me a makeover - and the same thing, it made me feel like someone other people wanted me to be.

Besides, make-up is expensive. And it takes precious time (which is limited!) that I'd rather put into other things.

But, there are times when I worry - "Is this the reason guys don't ask me out? If I did wear make-up would that change things?" And one of the most difficult thoughts for me personally is this one: people will sometimes say "You're doing everything you can/should." and my mind tells me, "No I'm not, I don't wear make-up."

So, an apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ says, "Ladies put on some lipstick and smile," and I groan and involuntarily throw my head back.

My 19-year-old self is back, believing that I'll never get married and part of the reason is because of something I could change.

This is not a plea for people to tell me I'm beautiful, or don't need make-up, or should wear make-up. It's just an experience - and a reminder to me, and to others, that people have "sorrow that the eye can't see" (Lord, I Would Follow Thee) and sometimes things we say hit those nerves. It's a reminder to be more kind to ourselves and to those around us. That the things we say matter - they affect people in ways we often do not know, both for good and bad.

Oh, and a song I was listening to today brought all these thoughts and feelings together and gave me the courage to write this post:

"Make-up hides her face
'Cause she feels out of place
She cries
Come on someone tell this girl she's beautiful
We don't gotta run, we don't gotta hide
When someone needs somebody
We don't need to say, we don't got the time"

-The Vision of Love, Kris Allen

Lessons Learned Roller Skating

"When was the last time you were on roller skates?" While waiting for a response from the driver's seat I tried to remember when I last laced up a pair myself.

Ice skates? A few times over the last couple of years. Roller skates? I don't even know.

"At least ten years," drifted over from behind the steering wheel.

Once we arrived at the skating rink, I repeated this query to another friend as we pulled on brown skates with bright orange wheels.  "I can't even tell you how many decades it's been," was her slightly anxious response.

We all tentatively rolled onto the hardwood floor of the rink, holding onto each other and the yellow rail along the wall.

Some people got their roller legs faster than others.

One woman not in our group zipped past - forward, backward, sideways. It was impressive and intimidating. Something inside me wanted to rise to the challenge (self-imposed, not externally issued!) and skate around the entire rink backward.

Rolling over to the edge I stopped my forward inertia by grabbing onto the yellow railing. Carefully I turned my body around and tried to figure out how to translate forward skating motions into backward ones.

Using what I already knew, I decided to go with the in and out motion that has worked on ice rinks.

Mostly by accident (trying not to fall or do the splits....) I learned that doing a squat gives increased momentum. Similar to leaning forward when skating forward - one translation of movements made!

It was painfully slow. Part of me felt embarrassed - I knew the way I was flailing around/ contorting my body was not flattering or impressive. My friends lapped me countless times. The talented skater also zoomed by more times than I wanted to know about.

There were many moments when I glanced (or stared longer than I should politely...) at my fellow skaters filled with thoughts like these:

-"Why am I making a fool of myself in front of people who are so much better than me?"
-"Whoa, I'm not brave enough to even try a move like that!"
-"What's wrong with me? this shouldn't be so hard!"
-"Man, she's never even skated before, and she's way better than me!"

Then my brain reminded me how learning works: A little at a time. Over a period of time.

If I let my insecurity or my lack of quick progress or the skills of others hold me back I'd never get better.

On one pass by the most experienced skater there, I heard, "You're already getting better!" waft encouragingly from this stranger. I felt my confidence grow a tiny bit. "And your butt's going to look great tomorrow!" floated back when she was already out of sight. I couldn't help the grin, hold back the giggle or restrain my fist pump (and it didn't make me fall - maybe she was right, I was getting better!)

I made it around the rink.

I paused by the tables to chat with some friends. I took my phone out of my pocket - no need for a cracked screen! Emboldened, I started rolling backward away to go back to the rink and promptly fell, hard, on my butt (that should look great tomorrow ;)

Laughing, the way we all do when the alternative is crying or dying of embarrassment, I accepted the proffered hand to pull me back up.

Isn't that what matters? Getting back up when we fall.

Do I really believe that? At that moment I did. I went back out and skated more. Both forward and backward.

Thinking about this experience (through sore muscles that made me question afresh the wisdom of my choices!) a couple of scriptures came to mind:

Mosiah 4:27 And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.

Doctrine & Covenants 10:4 Do not run faster or labor more than you have strength and means provided to enable you to translate; but be diligent unto the end.

This idea - that we should not run faster than we have strength - is one that comes up often in my mind, and in conversations in church classes or with family and friends. It is complicated for me in part by the balancing end of those verses: "it is expedient [to] be diligent" and "all things must be done in order" as well as "be diligent unto the end".

Those additions remove the "well, guess I don't have to work too hard" aspect for me. It turns it into a "don't get upset if it takes longer than you want, or is harder than you anticipated - just keep going. As you do things in order, build up a little at a time, you'll get there if you just persist diligently."

Thank you skating rink and fellow skaters for reteaching me this lesson.

It's not so much time for me to pick up my pace, but time for me to get up, again, and keep moving forward on those things I care about and want to improve.