Category: Lex’s World

Resumes: I’m an English major, not a genius!

Posted on by Lex De Weese in Lex's World

I have found as I begin to send out my resume that I am highly intimidated by business-y things. Turns out, in humanities classes, they don’t talk very much about getting a job, gaining experience, or putting together and impressive resume.

Not to mention, I find pencil skirts are restrictive, interviews are stuffy, and resumes are… well, I’m not quite sure I’ve got a knack for getting a job. Keeping a job, I know I can do. It’s that odd, “please take me on because I want to be paid so I’m going to pretend I am the best person in the world so you’ll think I am awesome despite the fact that I have no experience whatsoever” business that scares me. It’s unnatural.

Putting together my revised resume, I wasn’t even sure what to put on it. Everyone says it’s supposed to include so much information, but only be a page, and it has to be professional.

Well this made me think that that meant boring. Not true! I am an artsy and creative person, why should my resume not show that? 

The purpose of a resume is to get the attention of potential employers. It’s supposed to be you on a single page. What they see is what they believe they’d be getting so why not show them something awesome?

I’m not a super-avid pinner (which you’ve probably noticed if you follow me on Pinterest.) but I was able to find some awesome examples of resumes that made me excited to design my own. (I’ll warn you now, many of the examples are resumes of graphic designers–which I’m fairly sure is cheating! I am not a graphic designer, but I was still able to glean some ideas that have served me well in the past couple months.)

Between some creative arrangement and theme work and some nice paper, you can certainly get a potential employer to give your resume a second glance. I’m a big fan of nice paper. Office supply stores have some lovely finishes and cuts if you are willing to spend a little extra money (It’s no joke, it takes money to make money!)


It may be a little intimidating, but don’t be afraid to try something a little off the beaten path. It may pay off in the end.

I’ll update you on my job/internship search soon!

xo,
         –Lex

Dear Freshman: The Three Things I Learned My First Semester of College

Posted on by Lex De Weese in Lex's World

Many college classes are starting up again. I know many freshmen who are preparing to leave home for their first semester and I wanted to share some thoughts on the journey ahead of you. 


Now, I won’t lie, my first semester of college was one of the most challenging times of my life. But here’s the good news: Your first semester is always the hardest.

Here you are, living in a completely new place. You just packed up your belongings and moved into a room the size of your closet… with at least one other person. A stranger. Most of your friends are scattered all over the state, if not the whole country, and you know no one. Well, maybe a few people, but not everyone you have relied on for the last four years of your life… if not your whole life. You are living with strangers. You are sharing a bathroom with them… if not the rest of your hall… and you have never had as much homework in your entire life. It’s scary. Suddenly, you feel small. And you don’t really want to admit it, but you also feel lonely.

My church had warned us all–as it does all their graduating seniors–that in the next stage of life, we were going to experience LOAD. It was an acronym standing for Loneliness, Over-indulgence, Arrogance, and Depression. I figured I’d probably struggle with at least one of them, but not all… that was the arrogance talking. All three were at my doorstep everyday. It was hard. And it all came on so suddenly.

So here are the three things that got me through:

1.) Patience
Not a virtue as much as it is a necessity. 

The small Christian college I went to had a freshman orientation week… which heavily resembled my elementary school summer camp experience. We were placed in random groups (Free friends!) and forced to do trust exercises and team-building games. It wasn’t terrible. They took us to a ball game and to the beach. It was just… well, I didn’t connect with my group right away.There were also many bonding activities in the dorm during that week. I didn’t feel like I connected with any of the girls in my hall either.  I just wanted to find the sweet bookish girls who could dish out some snark and appreciate Frank Sinatra! There were plenty of people who were nice that I could eat meals with or sit next to in class, but they just… they weren’t like the close friends I had left behind.

But here’s the biz: I had had four years to build those relationships–some of them, much more than that. There was not an instant connection with many of those girls right away. We had to get to know each other and invest in those friendships to get them where they were.

About a month into school, I began to make deeper friendships. I found girls in my hall that liked many of the same things I did. People I could talk with about our shared struggles. Even in my sophomore year, the girls who had been in my assigned group that first week had become some of my closest friends.

It took time and I had to be intentional, but God provided so many wonderful relationships with people I cannot imagine my life with out. It didn’t happen that first week. I didn’t even meet two of my closest friends until the second semester of my sophomore year. 

Your tribe is out there. Just be willing to wait and don’t be afraid to just start talking with people. You never know what they may become to you in the future.

2.) Don’t be afraid to ask for help
I had two roommates my freshman year. One of them continued to be my roommate all through college and is one of my most favorite people ever. She is one of my closest friends and my polar-opposite in life, but living together just worked. The other roommate was a different story.

We came from very different backgrounds and did not see eye-to-eye on much. In the first month of living together, I was very stressed and overwhelmed, mainly because I had not had to deal with someone so difficult, so closely. 

I didn’t know what to do. The R.A. could not really step in, she could only mediate… and that wasn’t really getting us anywhere.

So I called my dad. I didn’t need him to step in. I was a big girl, I wanted to handle this as an adult. But I just needed his thoughts. His encouragement too. He was able to give me some wisdom and pray with me over the phone. (I also went to a school close enough from home that we were able to go to coffee during that time as well. Not many people have that blessing, but it was something I am very grateful for.)

Professors are a great source of help as well. Don’t be afraid to speak up when you don’t understand something. They are paid to teach students so take advantage of that. Don’t be afraid to make meetings or even just stop by their offices. Professors are great people to have in your corner. And they want to be in your corner. If they do not want to help out their students, then they are not very good at their jobs. Even if your school is very large, I think it is important to form a relationship with at least one of your professors in your time at school.

3.) Pray
I know, right? So predictable. But really. Pray for your roommate. They are struggling through this new stage and are probably lonely as well. Pray for the people you are meeting, as they are in the same boat too. Pray for the friends that you will make. Ask for deeper relationships, opportunities to serve people where they are. And don’t just pray, but invest in those relationships as well.

During my first month of school when the loneliness was at its heaviest, I remember I got our of class early and I went back to my room. I was just so dang alone that I began to break down. Rather than go to my next class, red-eyed and puffy-faced, I decided to spend some time with God. I began to pray that he would bring me a friend–even if it was just one. Someone who I could have a deep and wonderful relationship with. Someone I could hang out with when I wasn’t in class. Just someone who I could feel comfortable being myself with and they with me.

A couple weeks later, I decided to go to a dorm event, even though I only knew my roommates. And then I met her. My soul sister. Like seriously, we had tons in common, it was pretty ridiculous. There she was. That random girl I had been praying for, bookish and sweet and snarky, just like I had asked for. And she loved Frank Sinatra even more than I did. 

This is that fateful night! These girls are some
of the dearest people I met at school.

In fact, that night, I met most of the girls I would grow very close with over the following years. My prayer was meant plenty of times over with the many women I now call friend. I have never laughed so hard, cried with, or made so many memories as with the girls I met in college. God gives good gifts and he gives them in droves.

Just ask, seek, and knock, kid! He tells you to!

Again, the first semester is the hardest. It is also the one in which I learned the most. (And not in the classroom, because my classes were pretty brainless… I mean, it didn’t feel that way at the time, but what I wouldn’t give to have the homework load of my first semester!) It was hard. I cried a lot. I wanted to give up and go home where things were safe and easy. But there comes a time in your second semester that no one can really put their finger on when things become enjoyable. You have your people and a place on campus. You know who you can go to when things get rough and you understand how things work in your new home. You become thankful you didn’t throw in the towel because you are having fun and growing and it is so worth all of the hardship.

Best of luck to you friend! Don’t forget to write!

xo,
             –Lex

The Bachellorette: Love, Porn, and Reality

Posted on by Lex De Weese in Lex's World, Spirituality
The thing about guilty pleasures is that they tend to be embarrassing. For example, I am not a big reality TV fan. I’m still waiting for someone to explain the charm of Here Comes Honey Boo boo. And why exactly would anyone sign up to be on Naked and Afraid? Why watch people be stupid when I can watch Sherlock or Suits and be a better human for it? (Yes, my snobbery extends past tea…)

But here’s the rub: I love watching stupid people… and sappy stuff is not so bad either.

As such, it is with great embarrassment and chagrin that I confess that I have watched the entire ninth season of The Bachelorette. 

In many ways, it is like watching a car crash. You don’t want to see it, but you just can’t look away. Whoever thought of the concept of the show was either high or brilliant. Let’s take one woman and have her date twenty-five men. At once. And they live together. There is seriously no way things could get more troubling. Every Monday, I have been given a chance to kick back and watch everything go wrong. Tons of drama, not a ton of common sense.

So as I have been watching Desiree fall in love with Brooks (oof!) and be used by Ben and… that really muscly guy who’s name escapes me, and at last fall for Chris this past season, I have begun to notice some things about the show and some concerns it’s spurned. If you’re a fan of the show, understand that I can respect your interest (Notice I am in no place to judge. At all. Ever.) and also that I am sorting through what the show stirs up in me.

So, The Bachelorette: here is a woman with 25 men doing everything they can to get her attention. (Including showing up in a heinous homemade suit, or a suit of armor.) They travel to exotic locations. The men fight over her and for her. They will make fools of themselves in strange challenges in order to earn a date with her. They stab each other in the back and kiss up to her all to get a rose and stay there another week. She must do nothing but sit back and let them tear each other down to be with her. And the entire time, she is in complete control.

The show follows her through this journey and America is privy to the entire thing. I have seen more of this woman’s love life than I have anyone else’s. That’s a little weird to me, now that I think of it.

This is not reality. This is not how deep, intimate, lasting relationships work. And yet there is something attractive to me about this system. See, what I truly want is security and love; to be told I am lovely. There is a seed of honest goodness to this desire, but it has been twisted into something fearful. I want to control. I want men to just love me for no other reason than that I’m there. I want them to fight for me, if not over me. It is my sin nature that twists this in to a game of manipulation and control.

If there is anything each of the successful marriages I admire have in common, it is that they are real. There is give and take. There is struggle and sacrifice. There is respect and love. Real love. Not just sex and fire. Very little glamour and very minor drama. Manipulation and control have no place in them. And porn and the expectations it creates destroys the beauty of true love.
Despite all of this, I found myself envying Des’s position a bit. What would it be like to be desired by that many handsome men? To have them fight over you? To where beautiful dresses and travel to so many fantastic places? What would I do in her shoes? There was a longing stirred up. A need to lose myself in this fantasy because my reality was less pleasing.
So I guess I should get around to explaining the title a bit… It’s alright, you can put your eyebrows down.

Many who know me, know the phrase “emotional porn.” In short, it is porn for women. In long, it gets a little more complicated to explain. In general, we as women are driven more strongly by emotional rather than physical intimacy. (Like the old adage ‘men give love to get sex. Women give sex to get love’.) Emotional porn comes in many forms, but almost always through narrative. Romance novels are the most common, but also chick flicks. And reality TV. It is ultimately a story we can lose ourselves in. And yes, you can do that with any form of entertainment, but this is a little different. It is when you use the character as a thin veil for yourself. You are experiencing the narrative in a deeper way than just enjoying the story. You are experiencing the emotions for yourself. Not just in empathizing with the character, but involving yourself in what is happening in this fantasy world. It is a more desirable and romantic place to be. It is a preferred reality where we become more desirable, flirtatious, and loved in this fantasy. And then we return to reality as, well, us. We feel undesirable, unlovely, and unwanted on our return to the real world. And we will not be satisfied until we return to that fantasy once again.

It’s hard to explain, but I’m sure you’ve experienced it. These sorts of narratives are trending heavily in our media. Twilight is what I consider a prime example. Fifty Shades is a very overtly sexual example. The exponential growth in the erotica genre demonstrates the popularity of this type of porn.

If you’re not understanding, let me explain it this way. In these examples, the heroine has the adore of men. Usually multiple men. She has done nothing to earn their desire besides be present. She may not even be attractive or feel like she is anything special, but these men are crazy about her for absolutely no reason besides the fact that she is herself. (And that’s all fine and dandy! You have to be yourself in a relationship.) But not once does she have to sacrifice or face consequences of any lasting variety. The man makes the sacrifices. He moves heaven and hell to give the woman all she desires including himself. She gives up nothing. He gives up everything. There is very little real life involved.
True relationships require give and take for both parties. The man is not simply there to serve the woman and make her feel desirable at all turns. That is not even something a man can do. Sure he can tell you you are beautiful and make you feel special, but that affirmation will only be temporary. The longing we feel for relationships and desire can only come from one source. And I promise you, it is not a more perfect boyfriend… It is certainly not Edward Cullen.
You see, our question of “am I desirable?” cannot be answered fully through relationships, or books, TV, or other media. If we take our question to these sources, we will be deeply disappointed, or be fed a twisted lie that distorts our self-image. (This is essentially what porn does.) That question can only be answered completely by the creator. He is the only one who knows the answer to that question. The only one who’s answer will truly satisfy.

Now, I wish Desiree and Chris the best of luck in what could be a marriage, or a very public divorce. Only time will tell. For myself, I wish for a real relationship. One not driven by manipulation and control, but out of love and trust. 

I probably should also wish for less emotional porn in the world. But they announced during the season finale that Juan Pablo is returning as the next bachelor. I think this may be a tougher addiction to fight than initially believed…


Please feel free to comment! Ask questions, state your thoughts concerns, or disagreements. I would love to get some dialogue flowing here!

That Awkward Moment When Faithful Sounds Like Failure…

Posted on by Lex De Weese in Lex's World
God does not want you to be successful — he wants you to be faithful.

I heard a speaker say this a few weeks ago and the thought made me stop in my tracks. How contrary is this message to everything else we hear from the world?
At this point in my life, I feel anything but successful. I almost have a degree. I work at the same entry-level job I’ve had for the last three years. I have no concrete plans outside of the fact that I will probably eat dinner at home tonight. I share a mini-van with my mom. I live with my parents in my childhood bedroom. As I sit here, looking at my teddy bear and baby blanket sitting on the bed, I can’t exactly say I’m living the dream.
What do I think success looks like for someone in my stage of life? An apartment, perhaps. Not in my parent’s basement. A car might be nice. A job. One that pays for the above. One I enjoy and have the potential to advance. The teddy bear might still be sitting on the bed…
Today, we measure success in any way we can. As soon as I post something on Facebook, I find myself refreshing the page to see how many likes it has received, as if this measures what sort of friend I am or how funny I can be. We compare schedules to see who is the busiest, therefore the most wanted and important. We buy certain brands, wear certain styles, do our hair certain ways because how we present our appearance will exude the message that we are put together and up on everything in the world of style. All this for the sake of feeling more experienced or more connected. All for the sake of—even in the smallest sense—feeling successful.
Well I’m throwing in the towel on this one, folks:
I am not successful. I’ve got nothing. I try and try and still come up unsatisfied, unfulfilled, and exhausted. Ultimately, I feel as if I have failed.
Ultimately because I have.
And not because I don’t have 700 likes on my status, or I have nowhere to go on a Thursday night, or because my hair only does one of two things: frizz or flop.
Thing is, my calling is not to be successful. It is not to post the most witty comments on the human condition at all times. It is not to fill every blasted second with people and places and commitments. It is not to look my best at every second. I cannot do any of these things.
What I can do is be faithful.
I have been given a portion in this stage of life. The fact that I have the job I do, the home I do, and lack the things I do is not without a reason. I have been placed in this stage of life for a reason. I am in a place where so much is unknown and I feel so aimless at points that I just want to scream. From where I am sitting in life, I don’t see any change coming and that is extremely discouraging. It feels like failure.
Faithfulness sometimes looks like failure. Faithfulness is not usually flashy or glamorous. Faithfulness does not look like a twenty-one year old rookie author on the New York Times Bestseller List. Faithfulness is quiet. It is patient. It looks like praying when the day gets long or monotonous or stressful. It looks like investing hours to master a craft or gaining experience. It looks like taking the time to get to know the people around you rather for dreaming of those who may be around the corner. It looks like giving up an evening to invest in students in the youth group or people in need. It looks like trusting in something bigger than yourself. Most of the time, it does not look like success.
And yet, it is what we are called to. God has called me to be a writer. If I am to trust him with not only that calling, but also my life, I have to trust his plan. I am not going to be a published author right out the gate. In fact, ‘published author’ may never be part of my title. All I have right now is ‘writer’ and if that’s what I am called to be, then I must put in the time and effort to become the best I can.
It is the same with my relationship with God. I cannot expect faithfulness to be an easy calling. I have to put in the time, as with any friendship. A relationship does not deepen because I met someone once. It grows as time is spent and intimacy is built. Trust does not develop without time, attention, love, and patience. The same with God. As I spend time in his word and in prayer, the deeper understanding I am given of his love, his will, and his glory. As that time is spent, I learn to trust little by little. And I fail at this daily, but that is alright. That is part of learning to be faithful. No one said anything worth doing would be easy.
My success in the eyes of my maker does not lie in likes, or busy-ness, or my hair—amen. I am not striving to one day be told “Well done good and successful servant.” Those words ring empty. I want to live a life that is fulfilling and pleasing to him. And that requires faithfulness. In that, He is well pleased.
xo,
                  –Lex