Being an adult is hard.

What does love mean?
It's a word. One that is, if I am being entirely honest, dropped way to often. Way to often. Do you really love that person, or are do you want to own them?

I've had similar thoughts floating through my head lately. I don't know what I think love is anymore. I can recognize it, or what I would define as love. But I'm not sure I am seeing what's really there.

I love my family. And I don't particularly care what they do. I have no say in their dreams or hopes or futures. I can give my unsolicited opinion (I do this frequently, even if most of the time it doesn't leave my own head). But is that really something someone who loves you does?

When I was in high school I had a boyfriend I loved. Or at least I thought I loved him. I felt utterly destroyed when we broke up. Just thinking back on it is enough to make me shudder. Most of what I feel now is embarrassment that I would ever let another person have that much control of my emotions. That I would let myself fall apart over a boy. The anger I felt over that break up lasted for years. It almost cost me a friendship (and that is funny story, even if the events are traumatic). All of those emotions I barely managed to keep a lid on came out anyways. It seeped out and stained my world view.

Making friends is difficult if every new person I meet I consider a potential safety hazard. Letting people get close, letting my guard down, tends to end in messy ways. I've had two best friends since college and it's been hellish keeping those relationships. I hate the phone. I don't check facebook often enough and I basically never check my e-mail. My preferred method of communication is letters. Or my blog (which has clearly not been used enough in the last year).

My sad, pathetic excuse is that I don't blog about work. Since all I do is work and read it would make an exceptionally boring blog. This is all true.

It's also true that I have a crazy bent towards philosophy and I like bashing in preconceived stupidity. I can't stand catchall comments and I have to almost physically stop myself from yelling when it turns derogatory. No matter what someone believes, thinks, expresses, wears or looks like they are human and deserve to be treated with respect. Even if they aren't present.

Phrases like these drive me crazy:
Those Christians
Those homosexuals
Those liberals
Those conservative
Those Republicans
Those Democrats
Those Milennials
Those Welfare receivers
Those people

You know what I'm talking about. The statement that is made with complete conviction that "those people" are some how less. Some how not human. We define certain characteristics, group individuals together and then start to seem them as less. The very act of grouping causes us to just see the minute part of their beliefs we dislike and not the individual. It's easy to hate something I dislike, it becomes incredibly easy to hate a person if all I see is a group label.

I am one of those Milennials. The ones that doesn't work full-time. Because I am ...

You can fill in the rest. You've probably been called something similar recently. Labeled, correctly, judged harshly and left to stand alone with no one listening to you.

Sometimes all people have are excuses. And sometimes people have interesting stories. A story I'll never hear if I'm not willing to stop and listen.

I'll tell you what I know about the Milennials.
We are lazy, for a value of lazy that means we don't want to waste time.
Most of us are over educated and under payed.
We've almost lost the ability to believe in a better future.
Because we are scrambling just to survive.
But we haven't given up yet and we won't.
Because we know that hard work and relentless commitment will get us to the goal.
We still believe in possibility because we've seen it over and over and over all whole lives.
We've grown up with terrorism, school shootings and war.
We know the value of a life.

And this all brings me back to love. If we love people how can we judge them so harshly. Why aren't we willing to stop for a moment and listen. To let go of childhood prejudices and communicate as adults.