How To Make Your Own Vash the Stampede Costume

How To Make Your Own Vash the Stampede Costume

I recently made a pretty sweet Vash the Stampede Costume for my cosplaying, and at the suggestion of a friend, here is my DIY Vash the Stampede Guide.

Crafting cosplay can be tricky since often fine details are difficult to pin down. For example, Vash's coat features many buttons. Depending on which scene, the lighting, whether anime or manga, and a few other factors, the number of buttons on the front panel of his coat varies from as few as 12 to as many as 18. Other details like where the seams are, how many buckles are on his sleeve and boot, how the straps are held on, and a few other details are similarly arbitrary, but eventually I selected one photo and pretty much followed that.

I used red duck canvas to construct the coat. It's rather stiff, which isn't quite right for the costume, but seemed an appropriate coat material. Other Vash the Stampede cosplay creators have used red leather or tough knit fabric, which would also be fine, but duck canvas is cheap. For my costume, I needed 7 yards. If your model is shorter, you may need less, but I usually get extra in case I mess up.

Making a Pattern for Your Vash the Stampede Coat

The basic pattern includes 19 pieces, not including the repeats that are used on the opposite sides of straps. In my above sketch, you can see that I went with 16 buttons on the front. I later changed this because 18 fit better. The total number of buttons came to 45, which is a lot to hand stitch through 6 layers of canvas! To ensure the coat fit well, I traced a T-shirt that I knew fit my model onto sheer fabric and cut and measured that. I had to adjust a little throughout, but the basic pattern is based off a simple t-shirt shape.

In the sketch below, all the pieces are laid out and graphed. Note that the thigh straps are missing, but I used the same pattern as the shoulder straps.


Before cutting out your pattern, ensure that the shoulder to ankle length is appropriate. My model is 52 inches from top of shoulder to ankle, and wears a size medium-small in mens, so the costume is subsequently quite tall and thin. This sketch also does not allow for seam allowances, so you'll have to add an extra inch and a half or so to make sure your resulting coat doesn't end up 2 inches smaller than intended. Feel free to interpret your Vash the Stampede look as needed to achieve the right amount of love and peace for your model.

I kind of cut and measured as I went along, so I don't have a photo of all the cut out pieces. One thing that made it tricky is that the coat is rather baggy, so I ended up having to make the vest portion several inches larger than originally intended. I also remeasured the collar to ensure that it fit comfortably in the head hole once I had sewn the shoulder seams.
 

Sewing Vash's Coat

If you have zero experience sewing, I'll give you the beginner description of how I put this Vash the Stampede coat together, but I'll bold the cut and dry version for anyone who has sewn several garments in their lifetime and has a good idea of what they're doing already.

First step is to cut the vest and sew the points, turn and topstitch from the armpit to the collar on the front, or the armpit to armpit on the back
The back of the vest is all one piece, whereas the front obviously has to be two pieces. I cut 4 front pieces (two for each side) and two back pieces. Sew from the collar down the front and up to the sleeve hole on the front piece, and the sleeve hole to the sleeve hole on the back piece. This leaves the arm holes, shoulders, and collar raw, but you can flip the bottom inside-out to make a nice finish. Press the seams, roll out the points, and topstitch along the seams you just sewed (turn and topstitch).



Second, cut out the 4 body pieces, sew the back together, finish the front body, and attach the vest to the body at the shoulders. 
I cut the body after sewing the vest to ensure the shoulders would be the same width. The back of the body has a slit that comes up to about the knees, so I sewed the two back pieces together starting at the top and sewing until about 16 inches from the bottom (this may vary if your model has shorter legs). I then finished and topstitched that seam. I also hemmed the front of the body along where I would sew the buttons. After finishing the back and front, I made a huge sandwich with the finished front of the vest, the front of the body, the back of the body, and the back of the vest, all with right sides facing between the front and back body. I double-stitched the shoulders and finished those seams. I should have probably topstitched that as well, but I did not because that's a lot of fabric. And we all know that Vash the Stampede disproves of suicide more than anything.



Next, measure the collar and attach to the main body.
The collar I ended up with was 32 inches long (including seam allowance) and 10 inches tall. I first hemmed the edges that would make up the button-up part. Next, I sewed the outside layer onto the collar (another thick sandwich), and turned the inside in, and stitched that on to finish it. Be careful pinning this inside seam because the inside hem ends up being the outside topstitching. I also topstitched the enclosing ends of the collar.



Step 4 was to attach the sleeves.
I believe I hemmed both sleeves first and then attached them to the shoulder hole, but  you can do it either way. It's critical to attach and finish all 4 layers: the sleeve, the body, and the two layers of vest. After the sleeves are attached, sew from the sleeve cuff through the shoulder and down the body until about 18 inches from the bottom to leave room for the side slit.I topstitched along the sides,but not along the sleeves because I don't hate myself. Do the same on both sides.



The coat is mostly formed now! You could probably wear it without looking like a weirdo. Anything that has not already been hemmed or finished should now be hemmed or finished. If you've been following me step by step, you should just have the bottom hem to do. Despite my best efforts, one of my body pieces was a good 3 inches longer than the rest of the coat (how does that even happen?) so I just hemmed all the pieces to be the same length and finished up any raw seams that looked like they needed help.

(photo of bottom hem)

The rest of the pieces were entirely made up of turned and topstitched pieces, which are pretty easy once you get the hang of it, especially if they all have right angle corners like these do.
Make the front piece. Make two shoulder straps. Make one cuff strap (I almost made two of these, but Vash does not have a right sleeve, so don't do that). Make two thigh straps. Make one waist strap. Make two looping straps. These pieces are also all held on with buttons. You can make buttonholes for each of these, but honestly I only made 14 button holes out of 45 buttons because the majority of these buttons never have to come undone. The required buttonholes are as follows: 2 in the collar, 8 on the front panel, one on each end of the waist strap, and one on one end of each of the looping waist straps.

Finishing your Trigun Cosplay

Once you've sewn on all the buttons, you should be done with the coat! Next is just the hair, glasses, gun, arm, legs, and boots (yes! that's all!). Once I've had a chance to work on mine and take some photos, I'll either update this post or add a link to another tutorial for you.

I realize that it would have been clever to add pockets so my model could pretend to have a loaded gun in there, but that honestly wouldn't be too hard to add even after the fact. If you do want to add them, you might need another tutorial, but they would fit nicely below the waist strap on either side.

I hope this Vash the Stampede coat tutorial helps you with your next cosplay. Love and Peace!

Para-sailing

There was a time in my life when I was engulfed with missions opportunities, bible studies, christian community, service opportunities, and people willing to invest in my life. This magical time of Christian growth was because of college ministry. I went into college dissatisfied with Christianity and hoping to reinvent myself as agnostic. I came out of college having been baptized, gone on missions trips, participated in street evangelism, taught classes on how to share ones testimony, and leading bible study leader support groups. I started a campus project to reach out to LGBTQ students and helped put together a missions dinner. I personally prayed with more than one person as they decided to turn their life around and pursue Christ, and I mentored several students who weren't sure if they wanted to be Christians anymore. In a way of speaking, I blossomed in this environment. There were rough patches, sure, but never in my life had I ever had access to so much training, experience, and opportunity. And I'm not sure I'll ever have it again.

I graduated, see. I packed up and moved on to the “real world” (though, I'm becoming increasingly convinced that there is no such thing as the “real world” just changes in the delusions we convince ourselves to accept). All of a sudden, I had no roommates, no staff workers, no picnics at the crossroads between my housing and the library, no outreach activities, no pizza and worship nights, no anything.

Well, there was the church.

I found myself in a new city with no friends and no connections other than my job. But I did some research and figured I could do worse than the church 5 blocks from my house.

Honestly, I've been very satisfied with this church as a whole. They have a website (and their service time is posted on there so I can check it every other week when I inevitably can't remember if it's 10 or 10:30) The community is 80% old people, true, but while there's still your classic fare of quilting clubs, book clubs, potlucks, and Sunday school, this church actually does something. They have a food pantry. They go on mission trips. They have outreach programs. They have congregation-wide activities such as the “read through the New Testament in 9 months” plan and the coffee and doughnuts after every service.

As you might imagine, I still feel a little lost though. This isn't new for me. I've moved 13 times in the past 6 years, and during that time, I've attended 14 different churches as a first-time guest. I've attended 9 of these as a second-time guest, and I've been a regular attender for more than 3 months at 5 of them. I would say I have a bit of experience attending new churches.

For those of you into new guest surveys, the things I look for first time in a church do not include how much dust is behind the door of the ladies' room (although, basic cleanliness is of course important, I've never been in a church that I found disgusting due to lack of custodial care). I look to be greeted warmly and given a brief tour of the building. I look for values that agree or contradict with my own beliefs. And I look for food. Food brings people together, folks, and despite the fact that I am now making enough money to stock a few pantries myself, I will always come to a free lunch.

The second visit is just as important as the first, though. I've never stayed at a church who neglected to greet me just as warmly upon the second visit as it did on the first.

So, I attend a church now that meets the above criteria. I attend almost every week... Or every other week… Well, I'm definitely there at least once a month. I've been calling this “my church” for about 4 months now. I feel pretty comfortable here. I'm ready to do something.

Only there's nothing to do.

Hmm. How did this happen? I found a church; I met some people; I signed up for some events and involvement opportunities; but here I am sitting at home on a Sunday afternoon writing about how disappointed I am when I compare my current church with the campus ministry I was a part of not even a year ago.

I don't think it'll do much good to complain. But I'd still like to know what happened.

Maybe it's my fault. Maybe if I attended every single week instead of once a month-- I mean every other week-- I'd be able to connect better. Maybe if I didn't hide in the back row and never introduce myself, I'd know more people. Maybe if I was on the mailing list, I'd know what's going on (where did that envelope go, come to think of it?) Maybe if I volunteered to lead something, there would be something I could be a part of. Maybe.

Church is not campus ministry. Campus ministry is a para-church ministry. They will say in their mission statements that they aren't meant to replace the church, but simply to direct people to Jesus and encourage them to pursue Him after graduation.

But the thing is, I don't want to go to church. I mean, I want to. But I don't want to. I want to be a part of a community of people who share truth and actively love. That's what the church is, right? Except it isn't. There are a lot of things the church is. The church is a community. The church is an institution. The church has programs, activities, services, meals, groups, offices, leadership, kid's services, social events, and singing.

But does the church love? Does the church share truth? Is it a community full of bench warmers and hobby enthusiasts?

How To Ensure the Laundry Gets Done

As the busy person you no doubt find yourself, it can become overwhelming to see the dirty clothes stacking up day after day (or perhaps week after week or month after month or decade after decade). To ensure that you and your household always have something that doesn't smell like a boy's locker room, it is critical to keep on top of the laundry.

If you live alone, I'm afraid you'll have to take responsibility for this job on your own. You may be lucky enough to have parents or relatives that will do the laundry for you if you bring it over and leave it in a noticeable location every time you visit, or you might be rich enough to be able to hire someone to pick it up and clean it for you, however, you still must be the one to take initiative and ensure that the laundry is in the correct location for the obliging laundry doer to do it. Being responsible for laundry may seem like a simple thing, but only to those who have exactly the right amount of time and motivation to do it. For the rest of us, it becomes a matter of simple tricks to get it to work correctly.

1.  To increase motivation, place the laundry in a prominent location so it's impossible to ignore. Suggested locations include on top of your phone or computer, suspended from a closed door so it falls onto you when you open the door, and in front of the refrigerator.

2. Ensure you have sufficient amount of laundry soap at all times. If you do not, you may find it difficult to motivate yourself to run the cycle. However, it can be helpful to realize that most of your clothes probably aren't dirty enough to require soap anyway, so running the cycle without it will work in a pinch.

3. Set reminders for yourself. If you forget to set the reminders, you may have a problem that goes beyond forgetting to do the laundry. Putting post-it notes or digital reminders in likely places or maybe everywhere if you're not sure which would be the best place may make you too tired to actually accomplish anything that day, but might help you remember for tomorrow.


If you live with other people with whom you'd like to share the duties of laundry-doing (read: make them do it), your job may be easier. However, housemates have a tendency to be less motivated and less bothered by having dirty laundry dropped on their heads than you, so you may have to up your laundry-motivation if you need to convince others to do it for you.

1. Hide all your housemate's essential clothing so they have to run the washing machine.

2. Strategically "lose" the remote in a heap of laundry.

3. Set up the laundry yourself to encourage your housemate to simply push a button to get the system going.

4. Whine about how the house smells like dirty laundry every time your housemate is in earshot.

5. Wear your housemate's clothing and explain that you, "had nothing else to wear"

Whatever you try, remember that no matter how frazzled your relationship with your housemate becomes, it's most important that you don't have to do all of the work. Even if you end up hating each other, as long as you don't have to take responsibility for your own chores, you've won, and that's all that matters.

Creating Hope

This morning I challenged myself to consider what I consider myself an expert at, so I could write about it for you all. I was recently excited to see that Wikipedia kept the changes I made to information about Wisconsin that I wrote in. It gave me happy feelings to see that I know something many people don't know at all, even if it is just how many gas stations are in my hometown.

I read once that if one reads three books on any given subject, one probably knows more about that subject than 90% of the population. I've read a great many books, but not enough of them were informative. I know a lot about fictional characters, fantasy tropes, what constitutes poor or disappointing literature, and the emotions that a typical writer feels, but I can't say I know much about how to do anything special.

Most of what I do in life, I've never read a book on or taken a class in. Things like waking up in the morning, listening to music, going for walks, or giving hugs don't come with instruction manuals. Nearly everyone does them differently. I imagine instruction manuals exist somewhere for these things, but I can't imagine reading a book about how to correctly go for a walk. It sounds rather boring. I'd rather just go for a walk.

I have reason to believe that I'm good at knitting, cooking, organizing, and teaching. I see evidence that I have skills in these and other areas that many people do not have. I wish I could explain how to do these things. So much of it is simply, do what seems best and think of a way to fix it if you make a mistake. I suppose that's not very instructional.

I don't know if I'm good at being creative. I see some people who never exercise their creativity in a meaningful way, and I see some who exude ideas like carbon monoxide and are constantly building some craft or another. All I do is play at something that feels right and set it aside when it doesn't come out quite how I wanted it to. Maybe that's all anyone ever does. Maybe people love those things anyway, even when they don't turn out as expected.

I don't know if I'm good at being hopeful. I want to be. I try to be. But I can't say I'm an expert, even though I've certainly read more than 3 books on the subject. I suppose there's a difference between knowing how to be hopeful and actually being hopeful. Hope is a fleeting creature.

I hope I won't be depressed.

I hope I become healthy.

I hope today is a good day.

I hope things work out.

I hope we can be friends.

In so many cases, there's something that can be done: I can be less depressed by doing things I enjoy every day, taking care of myself and my body, and going to the doctor. I can become healthier by eating well, sleeping, and exercising. I can work to make the day good, help things work out, and put in effort to be a good friend. Yet no matter how I try, not every day is good, not every night is restful, and not every friend stays for good.

Dare we continue to hope?

Hope is fragile, but no matter how many times it is crushed, the fractured pieces come back alive at the slightest provocation. No matter how many years pass without anyone remembering my birthday, every year a flutter of hope pulls in my chest at the thought that I might finally receive that surprise birthday party I used to dream of as a kid. No matter how many times I am rejected, I still find myself poking in to see if there's any cake left after the children have finished snack time. No matter how dark the nights get, I know I can wait expectantly for the sunrise to come and make everything not quite so bad.

I've begun knitting mittens for the homeless shelter in town. It's rather a hopeless process because I know that no matter what I do, I cannot cure homelessness in my city. Yet there is a flutter of hope in me that even if just one life can be made better...

Some Thoughts on LGBTQ+ and the Church

Most Christians have to come face to face with the issues surrounding LGBTQ+ versus the church at some point. It can be a daunting territory, especially when one reviews the carnage of so many times such meetings have gone wrong. While I can't give you straight-up answers about what is right and wrong, as someone who stands in the gap, in a sense, I'd like to share some things I've learned.

So, Someone in my Church has Come Out of the Closet... Now What?

It's all very well when homosexuality and transexuality are terms that belong to people outside the church, but what should you do if someone within the church community declares that this is who they are? Regardless of your personal stance on the identity--or even the biblical view of it, the first thing I would encourage you to do is become a friend, a listener, and an advocate; educate yourself on what the term actually means, and how to avoid rejecting that human being. Recognize that being homosexual is simply a desire. All of us have desires, but not all of us choose to act on them. Realize that desires are valid even if the behaviors they invoke are not.

Becoming an advocate does not mean condoning all behaviors. It simply means that you will stand by this person and love them no matter what. You will not allow this person to be rejected or excluded because they have sinful desires. You will not allow yourself or others to gossip, slander, or exclude this person. It means you will be an active listener as this person struggles to decide how their sexuality will impact the rest of their life. It means gently, honestly, and immediately defending the person when well-meaning strangers ask, "what the heck is that anyway?" It means you will not allow this person to become another casualty in the neverending battle against sinful judgmentalism.

It's natural for you and members of your church to have questions. If you ask questions, phrase them kindly and avoid shaming the person for their answers. It can be helpful to create a safe space for other members of the congregation to ask questions. In the meantime, you yourself can become better educated on the topics that might come up in such discussions. I've included a few basic tips below, but please check out some valuable resources I have linked at the bottom of the page.

Pronouns, Titles, and Ingredient Lists

One of the most confusing things that people outside the LGBTQ+ community face is the plethora of terminology that surrounds it. To start off, I'll explain that whenever I refer to anyone in the Community, I use their terminology as an adjective, for example, "gay man" or "bisexual person." It has become common to use these words as nouns (e.g. "gays are taking over Manhattan!") but this is dehumanizing, and I try to avoid it in my own dialogue. I use the term "LGBTQ+" not because it's easy to say or because I necessarily want to validate every title that exists, but because this is the latest accepted and comprehensive way to represent non-heterosexual, non-cisgender, or non-monogamous orientations. For a more comprehensive list of titles used within the LGBTQ+ community, please refer to this thoughtful article.

Regardless of how much research you do into terminology, realize that the titles that people apply to themselves are primarily for themselves and for their community. If I identify as sex-repulsed, pan-romantic asexual, this ingredient list is primarily for my own journey of self-discovery and to help me find people who can commiserate with my unique situation. Having a list of adjectives does not preclude "special snowflake syndrome." For someone outside the LGBTQ+ community, becoming familiar with the terminology that LGBTQ+ people use can be helpful in having open conversations, but, just as you don't necessarily need to know exactly what type of cancer someone has in order to be compassionate, if you don't want to memorize an extensive list of LGBTQ+ terms, most people won't hold this against you.

Related to terminology (which I've just indicated you might not need precise knowledge on) is the slightly more precise topic of pronouns and preferred names. While it's easy to stand on the sidelines and say, "God made so and so female, so I'll refer to her as 'she' and her parents named her Katelyn, so that's who she is," or something of that ilk, I would like to point out that there's no faster way to alienate someone than to consistently call them a name that isn't theirs. If I walk up to you saying, "hey, are you Matthew?" and you say, "Please call me Matt," you wouldn't think of me as in the right if I continued to call you Matthew. Regardless of  your personal stance on pronouns and naming conventions, if you want to be a compassionate individual who is willing to love someone regardless of their choices, the last thing you want to do is continually disregard their requests to call them by a different name or pronoun. For further reflections on name changes, you can refer to my previous post Another Silent Revolution.

Side A versus Side B

When it comes specifically to non hetero-monogamous relationships, there is a good deal of controversy that can effectively be summed up by the Side A vs Side B standards. Side A finds that God created all people and orientations and since God doesn't make mistakes, people should embrace and celebrate that diversity. Side B, on the other hand, finds that God-honoring sexual relationships belong exclusively to a man and woman who are married. Many have done research within the bible and amidst the narratives of people around them and chosen one or the other side. For a more in-depth analysis of A vs B sides, please refer to this detailed discussion.

That both sides exist and that both have legitimate arguments and emotions behind them does not need to be questioned here. The more important factors as I see it lie in the consequences. Many Christians with same-sex attraction start on Side B, but find that it is extremely difficult to live in a world where the only intimate partners that are allowed are spouses (by which I mean sexual intimacy, of course, but also non-sexual intimacy including, but not limited to, intellectual intimacy, sensual intimacy, and social intimacy). Society in general fails to accurately represent how essential friendship and support are to everyone, but those who choose to live celibate tend to feel that they are more isolated than married people. Since this is crushing, it makes sense that Side A arguments are appealing. Side A Christians are often rejected by more traditional churches, and they face many dangers in society as a whole, but often this is easier to deal with than the idea of spending the rest of one's life alone. Additionally, the heartbreak that often follows when someone who started on Side B and has changed their mind and left behind a spouse or children should not be underestimated when Side B is insisted upon.

People versus Politics

For anyone who has not experienced what are considered sinful desires, whether related to identity, gender, sexual desire, or other LGBTQ+ related leanings, I don't know if there's a way to describe it to you. When you watch the news or see pride posts all over the internet, it's easy to form opinions on what's right and wrong. Many in the church easily fall into one of two camps: either the holier-than-thou-god-hates-homosexuality camp or the God-is-love-and-acceptance camp. The reality of the situation is much more complicated. When sitting face to face with someone you thought was a Christian of the true faith but who faces desires for something the Bible declares to be sin, the politics of the situation must necessarily become secondary.

A church must decide which side it is on. And by that I sort of mean A or B side, but more importantly, it must choose whether it is on the side of justice or of compassion. If you decide that sexual practice outside heterosexual monogamous marriage is an abomination, then be ready to offer your unconditional support and love for those who struggle daily to not fall into the minute-by-minute temptations to pursue their sexual desires.

Every LGBTQ+ person is part of a group, yes. Each one belongs to a section of titles and has an overarching philosophy to justify their existence. But each person is an individual with their own logic and hurts. If there's one thing that has burned me more times than I can remember, it's that in my quiet state, I am treated as "one of those people" rather than as myself.

Further Resources

In my own journey, I've been introduced to some extremely helpful resources which I cannot overrecommend to those seeking answers in situations involving the church and the LGBTQ+ community.

Washed and Waiting by Wesley Hill

If you read no other books on this topic, read this one. It's small, and it's powerful

Love is an Orientation by Andrew Marin

This book outlines not only some powerful stories, but some practical tips on dealing with homosexuality in the church and on the street.

Lead them Home

This website includes many resources from books to seminars that my trusted friends have recommended to me. I admit I haven't read the books myself, but they come highly recommended. I fully intend to attend a training session in the near future if at all possible.

The End of Sexual Identity by Janell Williams Paris

An in-depth resource exploring celibacy and the labels that people apply to themselves.

Eden Invitation

Looking for more resources and stories of the lives of those struggling to live a God-honoring life amidst same-sex desires? This website is designed both for gay Christians and for those who wish to understand their personal narratives better.

Social Go

I recently went outside my cozy room and spoke to people who I didn’t previously know. I know, I’m pretty brave. It was definitely an Experience.

The extroverts in the room are already cringing, but hey, those are the people who look at strangers as potential friends who probably have some common topic they could discuss together and, even if they don’t become instant friends, they could spend some pretty enjoyable times having a conversation about just about anything.

I’m thrilled and a bit confused as to how extroverts can start up conversations without interrupting anyone. Admittedly, many of my most extroverted friends confess that one of the hardest parts about being an extrovert is the concern of becoming annoyingly friendly. I think I have the opposite problem; I’m annoying because I never talk to people unless absolutely forced to. But most people are to busy to notice anyway, so I get by.

The hard part for me is when I want to be the one to speak up, to make a difference, to show I care, but that good old social anxiety gets in the way. What would the world be like if I would actually speak up when I see that lonely homeless person, or that woman with her head in her hands, or that child wondering if a penguin really can swallow a penny?

There are a lot of bits of my life that I consider to be simply a part of who I am, unable to be denied. I have depression. I am female. I love cake. I have brown eyes. I have chronic muscle pain. I love the Hampsterdance song. These are parts of who I am that I accept without question. Social anxiety is not like that. Social anxiety isn’t a setback or a quirk; it is a condition that actively prevents me from even trying to obtain the desirable status of not being alone.

Social anxiety is also one of the conditions I have which is most likely to be rejected as a good excuse for me to avoid doing something. If I say I’m depressed, people leave me alone. If I say I’m uncomfortable with something because of my orientation or beliefs, people generally let it slide. If I say I’m feeling sick, people let me chill and try to comfort me. If I say I’m feeling anxious and can’t start talking to a random stranger, people are likely to tell me to just try it because it can’t be that bad. 

As anyone with social anxiety can tell you, though, just trying won’t make it better. Practice does not make me more comfortable with something I’m terrified of. I think the first thing I want to do is to explain that it is a big deal. Doing something as audacious as interrupting someone’s thoughts is more frightening to me than jumping off a 10-story building or playing Russian roulette. It’s that bad. It’s not something I can just get over with practice. Just like jumping off a building, I might do it a hundred times, but each time I once again stand on the edge, I can still feel my body screaming that this isn’t safe, and I need to turn back.

To the courageous lady on tumblr who tells me that I should get out from behind my computer and make an actual difference in the world, I wish you well, but however small the difference is that I can make from behind my computer, it’s infinitely larger than the one I would make if I went out into the world and stood in the corner and wished I could say something.

I don’t aspire to be great. I’ve never meant to change the world. But whoever said, “share the gospel everywhere. When necessary, use words,” was probably also a socially anxious nut looking for an excuse to get out of breaking through a comfort barrier and actually say words that people don’t want to hear.

Don’t hear me say that social anxiety is nothing. As stated before, it’s a big deal. But, conversely, I’m not saying that staying home and adding flaming comments to facebook or reddit is the answer either. What I’m trying to say is that I’m lonely, but I see human interactions as a minefield where I risk being shunned and having to brave self-loathing if every conversation doesn’t turn out well. But I also want to do things. I want to love well. I want to speak up for the voiceless and share hope with the hurting. Whether I had social anxiety or not, I think this would be hard. But if you’re reading this, realize that if I can do it, so can you. One little word; one small gesture.

This week I went out and talked to two complete strangers. Admittedly one of the conversations went like, “nice weather we’re having.” “yup.” The other had something to do with how some days just need to get over themselves and let people sleep. It might have been awkward. I might have been shaking a bit. But I totally had conversations. Look at me go.

Little Worlds

When I was 14, Sir Winsalot dubbed me Lady Watchalot. We were joined in our cohort by Sir Cheatsalot, Lady Talksalot, Lord Scheming, Sir Hopeful, and Lady Knowsalot. I watched them a lot. I watched them play. I watched them learn. I watched them grow. I watched as they moved away. I guess I did too.

Some internet meme has been telling me that life will pass me by as I watch and I’ll be left alone and empty because I’ve never participated.

All my life I’ve been on the sidelines, in the audience, or backstage. They tried to make me a leader, but I retreated to behind my camera. I don’t think they understood because after that they stopped inviting me to their parties and picnics. If that’s what they meant by left behind, then I guess I do feel alone. But isn’t there a place for someone like me to stand on the sidewalk and cheer as the parade goes by?

You didn’t have courage.

You never stepped out.

You never tried hard enough.

You were content in your comfort zone.

You never said you wanted to participate.

You never reached out.

You never made anything worth showing off.

You never escaped the fear of what others might think if you showed off what you’d made.

You always just waited for someone else to initiate.

You never seemed to want to be a part of anything.

You buckled under the pressure.

You left when it got too hard.

You will always be left alone sweeping the streets after the parade has gone by.

Psh. So?

Even when I’m in the midst of these activities, I’m still on the outside. I can’t see all of it; it’s overwhelming. Perhaps I was born on the outside. I can see much more clearly from there.

Tell me, O sage internet meme, what it means to experience something.

Does it mean that to experience something is to see it?

To hear it?

To taste it?

To be immersed in it?

To understand it?

To remember it?

To have your whole mind and body engaged in it?

To be doing it at the same time as all the other people?

To be able to discuss it play by play once it’s over?

To lose your sense of anything else in favor of sensing it?

To breathe it in and feel it in your entire body?

To feel it deeply in your gut even when your head is telling you it cannot be?

Ah, internet meme, how often do we really experience anything? Really truly experience it? How often are we trapped behind a glass barrier, feeling like we’re only just watching through a tiny screen, even though we are completely surrounded by it?

Can we stand on a mountain and not feel the wind? Can we stand in the mall and not smell anything special? Can we be on the ice rink and not feel the impact of the cold, the echoes, the slice of skates, the heat of our own breath? Can we stand in the rain and not feel like dancing?

What is this reality that you seem to think I’m missing out on? You say that the positive emotions I feel in response to what I love can never be real and that the brokenness I feel at your scorn for my passion is the only reality. Or is it that because I’ve never run a marathon I can never know what it’s really like? Well, what is reality anyway? Is it an objective fact without any feeling attached? Then how is it we experience real love even when there’s no objective reality involved but often impossible insanity? Real is what is, not what you think is.

Oh, internet meme, what does it mean to really live? How can you think to answer that for me?

“There she goes again, staring at the sky. She’s always off in her own little world.”

It’s not my world. You live here too. You just can’t understand it because for you, real is what happens in your own head.

But my world isn’t little.