Lauren Wakefield

 

It’s always interesting to me how people come into your life.  There was a time where I literally told my mom if I was in the hospital that maybe one person would visit me…because I had very few friends.  And years later I honestly can’t believe how many incredible people I have in my life.  Gen being one of them.  I met Gen three years ago at the What If Conference in Portland…but it wasn’t until a few months ago when her and her husband came to Chicago for their anniversary and asked me to photograph them that I really got to see the magic inside this girl.  She is one of the most pure and genuine people I have ever met.  Within seconds of being around her you feel like you want to just sit and talk to her for hours.  Days even.  She has this ease about her and you honestly feel like you could tell her anything.  Spending time with her and her husband…ten years strong…was proof that true love is very much alive and well.  Gen is kind, incredibly talented, beautiful and as you are about to see…one hell of a writer.  But on top of all that…she is one truly remarkable woman.

 

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GEN SMYTH

 

It was a Wednesday afternoon when I walked into Starbucks that day nearly six years ago.  I stood at the bar, waiting for my drink, when the barista politely asked me what I was up to that day.  As it turns out, I was en route to the airport at that moment…about to catch a flight to Italy with my husband.  After a brief minute of chatting, the barista handed me my coffee and wished me a nice trip.  “But then again”, she said “why wouldn’t you…your life is golden!”

 

I’ll admit…the gold star was nice.  But at the same time, the words knocked the wind out of me.  She wasn’t being rude.  She wasn’t being sarcastic.  In fact, she was being totally genuine.  And that’s the part that really took my breath away.

Because here’s the thing…

 

This lovely girl saw me for all of five minutes a day.  Usually all dressed up on the way to my full-time job at one of the country’s most prestigious art galleries.  Or with my camera in hand to photograph two people in love.  Or, yes, on my way to Italy for ten days to celebrate my anniversary.  This is what she saw.  Therefore, this is what she knew. 

 

And truth be told, there is darkness in this kind of knowledge.  Especially now, when so many of our connections happen only five minutes at a time…fully filtered and perfectly hashtagged.  In our defense though, it’s not entirely our fault.  That battle we’re fighting…those rough days were having…they don’t tend to translate quite as well when you have twenty people in line behind you for coffee or a hundred and forty characters to spell out your day. 

 

Honestly, what was I going to tell my barista?

 

“Yes, we’re flying to Europe.  I just miscarried our baby…we had a terrifying health scare…I’m suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder…and we’re feeling pretty far from God right now.  So, yeah, going to Italy seemed as good a place as any to just run away from our life and justifiably eat gelato twelve times a day.”

 

No.  I wasn’t going to tell her this.  Because shocking total strangers into oblivion is a bit harsh and cruel.  Especially when she’s the girl in charge of making your coffee every day. 

 

But I did spend the entirety of that flight wondering; about our sense of authenticity…our collective vulnerability…our polished identity.  And it made me feel like a total fraud.  Because I’m not any of those things that this girl sees on the other side of her coffee bar.

 

If I showed up one morning, wearing my most ragged and scarred self…it would be a very different girl staring back at her [and she would likely feel inclined to serve me alcohol instead of coffee!]…

Because I was bullied a lot as a teenager.    

I’m afraid of thunderstorms.

I spend an absurd amount of time worrying about what other people think of me.

My biggest challenge in life is letting go of people.  Even if they hurt me.

I hide behind my humor for fear that people won’t accept me without it.

I feel like I have failed as a daughter.

I try to avoid big groups so that I won’t feel like the invisible one among it.

When I was in grade ten, a boy made a comment about my smile…and I’ve been self-conscious about it ever since.

I feel like I’m an easy person to walk away from in life…and it haunts me on a daily basis.

I almost always operate under the assumption that I care more about everyone else than they do about me.

I unfollow people on Instagram if their life seems too perfect because it makes me feel inadequate.

I feel like a terrible mother pretty much all the time.

I hate emptying the dishwasher.

Every day, I’m afraid that my husband is going to wake up and finally realize how much crazy he married.

I thank God for every day that he doesn’t!

I don’t like to try new foods…so I travel with my own jar of peanut butter.

I want to write a book so badly that it hurts.  But I’m afraid of people telling me that my life was never worth telling.

I once spent the night crying in bed and apologizing to my husband for being married to someone with such an unattractive body.  It wasn’t my best night…to say the least.

On that note; I’m not crazy about my body.

I struggle, every single day, with feeling like I’m enough.  Skinny enough.  Funny enough.  Good enough.

And I cry.  A lot.

 

I highly doubt I would get a gold star for any of this. But, as I write this, I’m sitting in that very same Starbucks.  In fact, I’m also heading off to the airport again in a few hours to drop off my husband for his flight to Europe.  I’m staying home this time because now – six years later – we have two kids.  I’ve since left the job at that beautiful art gallery to risk life as a full-time photographer [read: to spend every single day worrying that no one will ever hire me ever again!  True story!].  I’ve traded in my nice work outfits for sun-kissed skin and a never-ending battle to balance it all.  I juggle married life, parenthood, friendships, creativity, self-employed and honestly, I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.  Ever.

 

But I do know one thing now; that even with all of my frailty…all of my fears…and all my faults…none of those things make my life any less golden.

Scars tell stories.  Scars mean survival.  Scars means you showed up for the fight instead of running from it.

And we’ve all got them…even the sweet girl serving my coffee.  She’s fighting her own battle…defending her own front line…struggling in her own way.

And maybe it’s not about collecting gold stars for the perceived reality we give the world on Facebook…but it’s about the purple hearts we get for living bravely among the real one.

Because life requires guts…it requires bravery…and it requires vulnerability.

So, buy your coffee…wear your scars proudly…and carry on, dear soldier…

You’re not in this battle alone.

 

When I met Anjelica she was quiet and reserved but I knew there was something about her.  There was something I instantly liked but it took a few days before I really realized what an incredibly special person she was.  There’s something inside her that is just so good.  And you are instantly drawn to her.  You just know without her ever having to say a word that she cares.  And I mean really cares.  She helps you see the best version of yourself and will do whatever it takes to help you get there.  She is selfless and giving and loves with every ounce of herself.  She’s an incredibly beautiful person inside and out and is blazing her own trail…making the world so much most beautiful as she goes.  This girl is one of a kind and I whole-heartedly believe the world is a better place with her in it.

 

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ANJELICA BANNOS

 

I can talk to people all day and ask about their lives but when it comes to putting my personal life on an open platform, I start to sweat.

 

Every time I speak or write, I’m long winded.  It’s something my mom used to tease me for but I’m self conscious about.  Bear with me…..

 

I don’t like to cry…it makes me feel uncomfortable or defeated in some way.  My mom jokes and says I’m like the Rock of Gibraltar.  However, those damn Subaru commercials will make me tear up like a baby.  I’m learning to be okay with this.

 

I swear more than my sailor husband (E), but trying to control my potty mouth in front of my niece has taught me to be creative and more conscious.  “Sugar” + “Sheboygan” are my go to replacements.

 

My life is organized chaos.  Except for the moments when I misplace something that was in a specific “pile” and lose my shit for a second just to find it sitting where it always was.

 

I gravitate towards people who inspire me.  I just want to be around that good energy.

 

I’m a tomboy at heart but always retreated to my mom’s makeup vanity to play with all of her goodies.  That woman kills it with makeup and doesn’t even realize it.  She told me at age two that I put on lipstick perfectly, I guess I liked coloring in the lines.

 

Sometimes I feel like I am out of place in the beauty industry.  I was listening to a TED talk one day but I can’t remember the makeup artist giving the speech.  Either way, she said something that resonated with me and it was along the lines of, “I’m swimming in the deep end of a very shallow industry.”  Bottom line, my goal is to make people feel good by doing what I know how to do.  The art and craft is beautiful and something I appreciate beyond words, everything else is an afterthought.

 

I guess I never really fit in to one specific mold or group of people that I could identify with.  I always beat to my own drum, which has had some great moments and not so great moments.

 

I think it is important to build a strong network of women who encourage each other to succeed.  There is enough work to go around for everyone.

 

I really dislike planning, which is odd because being a makeup artist, I plan and book jobs out up to a year in advance.  That’s why in my personal life I crave spontaneity.  I feel the best moments come from something unplanned.

 

I’m in constant conflict with myself and want to be easier going but I get anxious often.  E is the calmness in my life and always brings me back down to reality.

 

I am an observer and can people watch all day.  I do better with one on one conversation than in large group settings.

 

I’ve been married for almost two months and since moving into our apartment, which we share with my best friend from college, I have not cooked a meal.

 

I’m very proud of my Greek and Italian heritage but don’t know how to speak either language.  It’s on my to-do list.

 

I’m a firm believer of making memories based on experiences, which may be a reason I’m in debt.

 

I’m impulsive.

 

I’m terrible with budgeting but was able to save to pay for makeup school in New York.  That was rewarding.

 

All of my favorite beverages can replace a meal.  ie: bloody mary’s and a dirty martini on the rocks with onions and olives.  Needless to say, I thoroughly enjoy cocktailing.

 

Eating a meal is an event.  I enjoy food more than the average person, and I’m okay with that.

 

I don’t like body shaming, especially in front of my baby niece.  She is almost two and soaks everything in.  The last thing I want for her is to have a negative complex about her body.  She’s an angel.

 

I have an irrational fear of spiders.  E helps in that department and is not phased one single bit.  If one escapes, I’m a nervous nelly.

 

I’m a goofball.  Instead of fighting it, I’m learning to embrace it.

 

I trip over flat surfaces.  Falling is hilarious when not injured.  We refer to it as the, “James Brown get down.”  You’re down then back up again in one beat.

 

My mind is always racing and the wheels constantly spinning.

 

That deep down belly laugh is the best medicine.  E has this nailed.

 

I smile and fidget with my neck when I’m nervous.

 

My cousin and I are the same age.  We were in Preschool and Kindergarten together until the teachers decided we had to be separated through the duration of grade school because I was over protective and would mother him too much.

 

I am territorial to a fault.

 

My family and loved ones are the most important things in my life.  I would do anything for them.

 

My immediate family is my pillar of strength.  As it grows, it gets better and better.  We are each other’s support system.  A phrase we often use, “It takes a village.”

 

My dad is my voice of reason.

 

My parent’s have put my brother and I first, always have and always will.  One day, I will repay them both.

 

My friends are like family.  We live all over the country or just a few miles away and may not see each often but we never skip a beat whenever we are together.

 

I have an innate need to make people feel comfortable.

 

My best ideas come to me while I’m in the shower or in the middle of the night.  Both of which are very inopportune times.

 

I always have E edit what I write.  I over analyze.

 

Did I mention, being vulnerable makes me uncomfortable?

 

I don’t receive compliments well.

 

I’m not a pleasant person when woken up and I tend to talk in my sleep or sleep walk which sometimes freaks E out.

 

I cringe that I let being busy prevent me from connecting with the important people in my life.  We are all busy and all have the same hours in the day to work with.  I need to improve my time management.

 

A pet peeve of mine is when someone doesn’t give the friendly wave after they move in front of you while driving.  If they wave it’s accepted, if not, they are just an asshole that cut you off.

 

I think everyone should work in a restaurant at one point of his or her life.  It teaches you more about life and people than being in any classroom can.

 

I get into these modes where I care entirely too much about what others think of me or am seeking validation but I know it’s all bullshit.

 

I’m a procrastinator in my personal life.

 

2014 was one of the craziest years of my life.  I started yoga teacher training, which I will go back to in due time.  It really is my happy place.  I dealt with a tough loss of a friend.  Trying to understand and grow my business and plan my wedding just to find out I was diagnosed with Thyroid Cancer right in the thick of it… I came out on the other side of it all but now I’m focusing on redirecting and following a more meaningful path, which I’m still trying to navigate and figure out what that really is.

 

I embrace my scar.  It’s my badge of honor so to speak.  Or I tell people I got into a wicked bar fight to make things interesting.

 

I like to joke, a lot.

 

I love music and how it can transport you to a specific place in time.  Bob Marley.  The beach.  Ah, yes!

 

I’m a dreamer but afraid I won’t be able to cultivate ideas into a reality.

 

I know few words to most songs.  I am a fan of improvising.  EXCEPT, for Notorious B.I.G. // Juicy.  That is my jam.

 

Being by the water makes me feel alive.  I have the sounds of the ocean downloaded on my phone to help me sleep.

 

Traveling revitalizes me.  It gives me fresh perspective.  I want to travel the world.  Correction, I will travel the world.

 

I miss my Dad’s parents all the time and they’ve been gone for a while now. I still have my Yia Yia’s red nail polish from over 20 years ago that I won’t throw away.  I held one of her handkerchiefs in my hand as I read my vows on my wedding day.  That was magic.

 

My Yia Yia always loved fresh flowers.  Having them around reminds me of her.

 

A very dear friend of mine lost her father over 6 years ago and what she said to me, I’ll never forget.  She had been walking down a crowded street after finding out her dad had just passed and thinking how no one knew what had just happened in her life… we all have struggles.  She was going through a heartbreaking time and someone just passing her could be suffering too or walking on sunshine.  Bottom line is, you never know what hell anyone is going through.  So while we are trying to maintain these perfect little lives that we curate on social media or whatever the case is, we are all flawed and have things we need to deal with.  It is about acceptance and not being so hard on ourselves and to be more kind to those around us.  Comparison is the thief of joy, so create your own path whatever that might be.  I know, I have to practice what I preach but it is a work in progress.  Hopefully, you all have a rad support system that will see you through.