First World Problems?

You've all heard of first world problems. There are pictures all over the internet making fun of the frivolous stuff we Americans like to complain about: "My GPS made me drive through the ghetto," "I can't hear the TV while I'm eating crunchy chips," and the like. Let'sbereal...we've also all heard the college freshman with the most free time they'll ever have in their lives complain about studying for their finals for general education classes. I often feel like anything I complain about is really just a first world problem. The hassle of getting a city parking sticker for my car, the confusion when my credit card company replaces my card for me after a fraud attempt, and my lack of time to go to the gym that makes my monthly gym membership a nice little donation to the fitness center where I'm supposed to be going. But then there are the things that I really do struggle with, and when it comes to asking for help or admitting that I'm having a hard time, I feel guilty doing so. This is something I've found to be weird when it comes to my transition to adulthood and the working world and my first year with Teach For America.

Let me start by saying: I have a good life. I love this amazing city. I love the church I found here. I love my apartment and roommates and neighborhood. I love my friends and the way they are there for me even with all the changes that come with post-college life. I am employed right out of college doing meaningful work, which is something that was extremely important to me when it came to finding my first job. I have enough money to take care of what I need and even a little extra to buy yet another pair of colored skinny jeans when I feel the need to add to my collection.

All that said, because of all that goodness, I've had a hard time figuring out what to do with my uncertainties, struggles, pressures, and stress. When there are families breaking up, hearts breaking open, and bombs going off, who am I to ever be discontent or overwhelmed with anything?

If I'm going to be real, I have to say that the daily juggling act of balancing my job and life have been overwhelming this year. Maybe some people are just better at it than I am right out of college, but I just can't keep all the pins in the air on my own without dropping them all in a clattering mess from time to time. I dropped them yesterday after school, which resulted in a weepy ridiculous phone call to my mother after she innocently asked me for my credit card number so she could sort out a logistical detail for me.

This teaching gig at my school has been really hard on me. I run into this issue every family gathering, friend reunion, and introduction to a new person. Should I tell them that I'm invincible, or should I admit that sometimes I feel completely incapable? Instead of admitting that I need help or prayers or a break sometimes, I feel like I have to have a big fat Teach-for-America-peppy-social-justice-girl smile on my face at all times. I just think: Positivity in the face of adversity. Finding the bright spots instead of focusing on the negatives. Putting on a happy face instead of freaking out. But all that does, in reality, is to lose that vulnerability that makes you a human being. It's okay to struggle. I'm learning the hard way that admitting you are having a hard time is not complaining, it's being honest. This is so important because being overwhelmed leads you to the one who holds it all in His hands. Even if you are a white employed girl with a good life. Having your material needs met does not mean that you will not go through spiritual storms. There's no time for guilt over first world problems. Because admitting that you aren't handling it all is a testament to the truth that we can't handle it all alone. We were never meant to handle it all alone. We aren't expected to be perfect. We aren't expected to be invulnerable. We are expected to be faithful through the trials. When we admit the struggles, and we let Him carry them instead, we can keep moving forward. We can take the next step.

And that's a a freeing feeling.