Bridget Willard

Author: Bridget Willard

  • “I will survive.”

    —

    Julie got me this cup because I always say I’m in “survival mode.” People often ask me when I’ll get out of survival mode. I’m not sure. It seems like I’ve been here my whole life.

    —

    Working to be heard. Finding my voice. Fighting the silence.

    —

    Desiring to be respected. Crying when ignored. Feeling invisible.

    —

    I’m a person. I’m smart. I have ideas. I matter.

    —

    I decide how people treat me. I decide what I accept.

  • The Habit of a Relationship

    I speak, he listens

    He calls, I answer

    I cry, he holds me

    He’s sick, I caretake

    I stand, he’s there

    He leads, I follow

    I break, he mends

    I sleep, he snores

    He dies, I’m alone

  • Ten Things I learned from 10 WordCamps

    Can you learn from WordCamps? Short answer: yes.

    Since October of 2016, when I was asked to speak at WordCamp Cincinnati I have traveled to quite a few camps. In the last 12 months, I’ve grown professionally and personally. To me, this deserved an epic recap.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BLi-uVvgSHH/?taken-by=bridgetmwillard

    WordCamps – The List: October 2016 – September 2017

    After Jason Knill and I attended WordCamp Cincinnati, Give decided to up our WordCamp game. Most of these have also been new city visits for me.

    I’ll list my role after the camp.

    1. WordCamp Cincinnati – speaker
    2. WordCamp US – Philadelphia – attendee
    3. WordCamp Atlanta – Contributor Day (Marketing Team), speaker
    4. WordCamp San Diego – volunteer, sponsor
    5. WordCamp Chicago – attendee
    6. WordCamp Orange County – organizer
    7. WordCamp Europe – Contributor Day (Marketing Team), attendee
    8. WordCamp Ottawa, speaker
    9. WordCamp Sacramento, speaker (but sick)
    10. WordCamp Los Angeles, organizer, speaker

    Yes. That’s ten WordCamps in 12 months. For the balance of 2017, I will also be going to Seattle, Rochester, and US in Nashville.

    Let’s get to what I learned.

    Lesson 1: You have friends everywhere.

    Yes. These people are your friends. Connect on social media. Meet in person. Or meet in person and connect on social media. Either way, meeting people, having great conversations, and keeping that relationship going is good for your mental health and for referring people. We all live off of referrals.

    Take selfies. Follow people on Twitter. Stay connected. People matter the most. I promise.

    https://twitter.com/jackomo/status/876102941249331200

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BTc71Urlvnd/?taken-by=bridgetmwillard

    Lesson 2: Bars have the best burgers.

    Honestly, before attending WordCamps, I never hung out at a bar. Ever. So, thanks for making me feel comfortable in a bar, WordPress. (This lesson is debated whether it’s a good thing but for the purpose of this blog post we’ll say yes.)

    If the bar has craft beer, the food is even better. If they brew their own, they may even have their own root beer!

    https://twitter.com/YouTooCanBeGuru/status/888522755246886914

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BXjcOKCFI6p/

    Lesson 3: I learned to travel on my own.

    From March when I had to fly and Uber and check into the AirBNB by myself to going on my first international fight — alone — to Paris — I learned that I can baby step my way into confidence. That was huge. And I knew, that if anything happened, I had a whole community of people who would have helped me.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BVX3qH9lxxW/

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BW0JW8nFrxK/

    Lesson 4: WordCamp shirts don’t always fit; be glad when one does.

    This lesson is about grace. It’s so easy to be annoyed. I have so many different size shirts, it’s not even funny.

    WordCamps are organized by volunteers. If you think you can make a difference, join the Community Team or volunteer for your local WordCamp.

    Lesson 5: Cherish your co-workers when you work remotely.

    I love the freedom of remote work. That said, traveling with your coworkers helps so much. There’s more to relationships than weekly hangouts and slack messages can provide. Seriously.

    I’ll never forget jamming on guitar with Ben in San Diego or checking out dinosaurs with Kevin in Philadelphia.

    I really enjoyed all of the time I got to spend with Ben and Kevin this year, in addition to the local crew: Jason, Devin, and Matt.

    People matter. Some days you realize that’s all that matters.

    Lesson 6: Slides are great; audience participation is better.

    We love slides. But engaging the audience is how they learn best. That’s all that matters. They are the reason you’ve traveled. Make the talk relevant to those people. They’ll remember it.

    Lesson 7: Sometimes the food is weird. Try it.

    This is a big one for me. I didn’t ever want to order something and not like it and then go hungry. Traveling to WordCamps has helped me realize that a) I can try something; and b) I can order something else if I need to.

    You may be pleasantly surprised, too.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BW3aPIfljih/

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BVVYI9il6y1/

    Lesson 8: Go to talks above your skill level or from a different discipline.

    We forget about the value of exposure. No, I can’t write in PHP or work with an API or even use ACF. But I understand some of the concepts now. That helps me understand my job and, more importantly, have empathy with my friends and co-workers.

    You’ll be surprised from what you do learn. I promise.

    Lesson 9: If you do get sick; be in a good hotel.

    I felt bad I had to cancel speaking at WordCamp Sacramento but was glad for a few things. Namely, Matt Cromwell was able to speak for me and I was staying in a great hotel. Room service is the best when you’re sick. And Jen Miller brought me a tea. The thing is we have a team for a reason. It worked out wonderfully.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BZHVsMEFcZ0/

    Lesson 10: The “little things” matter; even in Paris.

    My favorite part of Paris wasn’t the architecture, museums, or even the food. It was seeing a sunset over the Seine and explaining to Heather and Devin Walker why it moves me so much.

    No matter what happens in the day; it starts over. A sunset is redemptive.

    Learn things. Make friendships. Life can be hard. Remember to celebrate the little things because they truly do mean the most.

    https://www.instagram.com/p/BVX2fh8lKu4/?taken-by=bridgetmwillard

    x

  • Saying Goodbye — Again

    May 31.

    On this day last year my husband died.

    We were married for my whole adult life — twenty-three years.

    We were married when I was three weeks from being 20. “Hey 19” by Steely Dan was our inside joke.

    Mercier was my lover, friend, mentor, champion, and pastor.

    He was my whole world.

    Looking Back

    In the first nine months that Mercier died, there were four other deaths. For someone who had little experience with grief, experiencing five deaths in nine months was overwhelming.

    • My husband
    • My brother-in-law
    • My dog
    • My dad
    • My nephew

    But in the last year, I’ve also traveled to five cities I’ve never been to.

    • Cincinnati
    • Philadelphia
    • Nashville
    • Atlanta
    • Chicago

    Living on my own — alone.

    Besides being a teenager, this is the first full year I’ve lived on my own. Actually alone. Because, dogs don’t count.

    I know that I have friends. I have amazing friends.

    I know that I have God. Jesus is with me.

    But I am alone. That’s not something that can be dismissed. It’s truth.

    I alone am responsible to pay the rent, utilities, and other fixed costs. I alone have to shop and do chores. It’s all down to me.

    There were days where I didn’t think I could do it.

    But I have.

    Nice Surprises Along The Way

    I’ve had some surprises this year. Good and bad.

    I’m working on focusing on the good — the surprise friendships. The deep connection that only that kind of pain can bring. The vulnerable talks, the tears, and the laughter that overcame it.

    I’ve learned to travel this year. I’ve learned to appreciate change — though, I’m still not as good at accepting it as I could be.

    I’ve learned to look for beauty — even if it’s a reflection of a building upon the glass of another.

    I can stand there and say, “wow.”

    When the best thing can be taken away, you learn to cherish moments — looking at tulips, taking photos, remembering friends.

    Mercier was the kind of person who was fully invested in any conversation he had. I want to live that kind of life.

    To me, that’s how I honor his legacy.

    So I said goodbye. Again. Alone.

    Mercier was my husband. I was responsible for him and he for me.

    It was important to me to disperse his remains on my own — alone.

    I went to the beach. Talked to him on the way down, softly sung “Amazing Grace,” and carried him into the ocean.

    The waves came in and I opened the bag, the cold surf surrounded my legs which felt oddly comforting. I laughed. Mercier would have laughed, too. So, I walked through the surf and let him out. He used to say he wanted to surf in Heaven. This felt right to me.

    Being at Peace

    So, today was a day to be the independent person Mercier wanted me to become.

    And say goodbye.

    And prepare to be own my own.

    And prepare for a future without him.

    And so I did.

    Thank you, Mercier, for making me who I am today.

    I will always love you.