What I Know: Try

Nostalgia is kind of a cornerstone of my personality.

I like to share old stories (case and point…), reflect on cultural moments of my coming of age, document with photos, keep old letters, and look at those photos, letters, journals, and other artifacts. In this project, I get the thrill of digging into old albums and shoe boxes full of early 2000s movie stubs, postcards, and even old ribbons and awards. Knick-knacks and pieces of my past are helping me tell these stories, making me giggle… and cringe.

On one recent odyssey into a big box of my past I found the guest book from my graduation party. Friends and family were encouraged to write well wishes for college. All of them are kind of the same:

“You are such a great girl!”

“Good luck at Purdue!”

“I am going to miss you!”

Then, one from a guy friend made me stop in my tracks and cringe just as hard as I probably did when I read it in 2005.

“You are going to do so great because you always try so hard.”

It was meant to be nice and encouraging. It is nice and encouraging.

However.

“You always try so hard?”

Cringe. Double my age and still… cringe!

No one– especially a guy– was never supposed to notice that.

I grew up in a time of “Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s Maybelline?” and “Easy, breezy, beautiful, Cover girl” as the messaging on beauty. Elle Woods’ nonchalant take on getting into Harvard Law (“What? Like, it’s hard?”) was the standard for caring about achievement. Being a “try hard” was a major insult. Gillian Flynn’s “cool girl” who eats hot dogs and beer, and yet somehow is a Size 2 in Gone Girl had not yet been put down on paper and adapted for the screen, but the concept was alive and well.

Beauty, grades, success, and even just emotional control should all come easy. Effort, reaction, and caring was “uncool.”

It is an idea that has persisted into adulthood. You should look good, but you shouldn’t try to look good. Your home should be clean, but don’t make it appear to be the work that it, in fact, is. You should be a great mom, but you shouldn’t have to try to be a great mom. Doing something with effort, like decorating for a holiday, having a side hustle, or putting together a fun long weekend with you partner, is seen as “extra.”

In the first drafts of this essay in my mind, I wanted to make a case for effort and trying. Because try as I have to be easy, breezy– to be effortless– I am quite effortful.

I care. I make plans. I give a lot of F’s. And, as my observant old friend noticed, I do try so hard.

Talking about effort and trying can get a little icky because is just another thing that has been kind of co-op’ed by the Girl Bosses and Guru’s to be a positioning of “being better” with subtext of “better than others.”

However, it also can get a little icky on the other side of the spectrum where there is a tone of judgement– particularly in and among women– when it comes to effort. Even a “Oh, you’re dressed up…!” is loaded with hints of “ew, try hard” and “Why?” Are you trying to make us all look bad? Do you think you are better than us?

I have wrestled with this and believe there is merit to trying, not morality. Meaning effort is worthy, but does not make you worthy.

In developing my notes for the whole project the place holder for this essay on “trying” was Taylor Swift’s, “I have never been a natural. All I do is try, try, try.” This is a lyric from “mirrorball,” a song that has a lot of interpretations; but, is also just such a good, slightly melancholy song perfect for a glass of wine and conversation.

Some believe it is a metaphor for a romantic relationship, beautiful and shiny; but also, delicate and fragile. Some see is as a metaphor for the pandemic (“When they called off the circus/burned the disco down/sent home the horses/and the rodeo clowns”). The disco ball no longer with people dancing around it, sparkling in the dark. Instead, it is now left in the normal daylight only to see that it’s actually just a bunch of broken pieces hanging on display like so many felt. Taylor claims that, for her, it is a metaphor for celebrity citing that there are some people who just “sparkle and every time they break it entertains us.”

But, the seemingly most popular interpretation of the mirrorball is that it’s the high achivinging, always trying, doing the most in school and for friends and parents, but still not quite enough, oldest daughter types. (“Still on that trapeze/still trying everything/to keep you looking at me.”)

It’s an unhealthy take.

But, man is it relatable.

It’s people pleasing and doing the good and right thing because you think you “should.” It’s keeping the status quo or as I sometimes see it in my life when things are toxic or off kilter, a hightened effort to keep the figurative temperature in the room warm. It’s the pursuit of being “enough” which is illusive and if you really go looking for it, impossible.

Or actually, very possible because you are already there. So why try?

Why put in effort no matter what you do it’s never enough?

One of this summer’s most talked moments in pop culture was America Ferrera’s monologue in “The Barbie Movie.” In it, America’s character talked about the impossibility of being a woman and that she is tired, but also so tired of seeing so many other women tie themselves in knots trying to be some sort of ideal. Many women in audiences around the world cried. Many called it “iconic.” Many claimed it was best thing they had ever heard.

I cried a lot in the Barbie movie. (Like, a lot.)

But, not so much here. And, not because it wasn’t impactful. It was.

It was just that I had heard that speech, or many others like it, so many times before.

It’s there with both Jo March and Amy March (and Greta Gerwig’s touch) in latest adaptation of “Little Woman.” (Though I am partial to the 1996 version as it raised me…) In the new one, Jo shares her knowing of women to capable of so much and her exhaustion of fighting against the patriarchy saying she is “so sick of people saying love is all a woman is fit for.” While Amy, Jo’s sister, often gets a whiney, privileged, “young” edit is fighting the same thoughts as she makes patriarchy work for her. I think she actually has the sharper dialogue about effort and strategy and actual impossibilities of being a woman when she chillingly snaps back at Lauri for his claims on her quitting painting just because she can’t be great and marrying for money. She doesn’t shy from the fact that she is implementing a strategy (even if it’s her Plan B) because, for her, marriage is very much an economic proposition.

Then there is Elle Woods again, now in Harvard thanks to great effort (despite what she might have originally claimed) not asking, but realizing, “I am never going to be enough for you” in a hard conversation with ex-boyfriend Warner.

Then there is Taylor Swift– Miss Mirrorball herself– in the Miss Americana documentary grappling with everything from her strategy of running her business being seen as “calculated” to impossible beauty standards (“Because if you’re thin enough, then you don’t have that ass that everybody wants, but if you have enough weight on you to have an ass, then your stomach isn’t flat enough.”) all with the goal of making sure to be a “nice” girl. (“A nice girl smiles and waves and says thank you. A nice girl doesn’t make people feel uncomfortable with her views.”)

Which brings us right back to Gone Girl and the impossibility of the “cool” girl.

So… Why try? Why tie ourselves in knots only to always be doing it wrong? Why put in effort if we are never going to get it right.

One thing I know for sure is that there is no “right” way to do a life and as I dug for some inspiration on TikTok, flipping through mirrorball tattoo after mirrorball tattoo, I came across one that made me reconsider the whole “all I do is try, try, try” as the lesson.

One user wrote as she showed off the small, sparkling mirrorball on her arm that she had received a “Isn’t that kind of sad to have on your body?” response to her reasoning for it as she connected with the high achiever, oldest daughter, always spinning and sparkling interpretation. To which she responded, “It’s not for you.”

It’s for her.

What if we changed the idea of not just the messaging of a tattoo, the mirrorball… but also the act of trying all together to be for us.

I considered the areas of my life that I have found important to make effort in and many of them are small, menial, daily tasks: Make the bed, meal plan, keep the house in order, keep tabs on financials, workout, drink water not booze, wear a real outfit…

What I find in these small areas of effort is the closest I can get to a touch of semblance of control. I joke a little that it’s like plugging in a computer code for best results: If I do this, then I might yield this.

If I make the bed, then I will probably sleep better that night because there is something immediately relaxing for me about getting into a clean, crisp, made up bed.

If I wear an outfit, I feel more comfortable and confident as I greet the world. And because, for me, I think it is an area of play and creativity.

If I work out, I can release some extra energy that my body has stored up so that it doesn’t come out as a short temper with the ones I love most and it will help me sleep better.

If I have on another glass of wine, I will likely sleep poorly tonight, making tasks, work, and parenting hard tomorrow… and, let’s be real at 36, the next day as well.

There is a clear common thread here of the major importance of sleep in my life… But, I know enough to know that putting forth effort and trying in these areas help to protect my rest (and fun and play…) which will yield peace and ease in my life. That is important, to me, for me.

I know this to be true because I know all too well that, despite how hard I try, I cannot control life. Giving these areas of life effort when it is easy acts as bowling bumpers for when life gets hard.

Having the habit of effort towards conscious drinking habits and trying better ways to deal with emotions established pre pandemic was something I was and still am so grateful to have knowing that that time could have sent me on a bender or a wild spiral. Same with in the month’s after Danny’s death, when it felt like I was moving through wet mud and every task was a challenge. A daily hangover would have only made it that much worse. Those days were like the new baby days when something as simple as emptying the dishwasher required massive effort.

Everyone has their own “code” to enter for their own peace and ease. And, everyone has seasons when their trying might look different. It may even seem– or actually be– small.

But, I still think you gotta try.

And, instead of the performing trying of “I have never been a natural. All I do is try, try, try” in “mirrorball,” part of me is now much more inclined to believe that another great Taylor Swift song might have it right. It’s “This Is Me Trying” with lyrics of the same name. This song could be between lovers making a case for their effort in the relationship, but can also be interpreted as someone fighting addiction or depression and their smallest efforts– trying to stay alive or stay sober or just keep moving one little step forward– are them trying to stay in the game of life on their own pursuit of peace and ease.

Effort looks different for everyone; but, it is so worthy and good.

… Even if it is a little big and sparkly, too.

Not to get all girl bossy, but yes. There are goals for successful relationships and achievements in careers (mine and Adam’s, both so very linked as partners). We do try hard. I honestly find effort quite attractive.

Not to mention, the effort for “more” and even just the everyday stuff is also very linked to the loss of the young people close to me. I can think of no greater insult to them to give up. To die before I am dead.

And, that is why, for me, in “The Barbie Movie” I cried hard in the final montage of home videos as Billie Eilish sang “What Was I Made For?” and Barbie decides to become Barbara. She chooses to breathe, feel, and, even with all it’s impossibilities, be human.

She gave it a try.

As images of moms and babies, playing kids, dancing, laughing, skipping, blowing out birthday candles, watching fireworks, graduating, getting married, and getting old played across the screen, I cried.

It is so hard to live and breathe and be–as man or woman. It can sometimes feel impossible and not with the effort. But, in reality, the experience of it really is so beautiful and such a gift.

And I want to experience it.

Despite the suffering, the mess, the hard stuff, the impossibilities, I want to give it my greatest effort.

THIS is my trying.