Smart, Gentle, Accepting

We met when I was sixteen. And honestly, if you could become friends with my sixteen-year-old self, you are a strong and gifted person. He was and still is.

I've taken karate for over 10 years now, but Trevyn and I met in my early karate days. I like to think I've grown in humility a little during those ten years. My karate instructor teaches a beginner karate class at the local university. It's a big group of students, so my Sensei encouraged the regular dojo students to come up and help with the class. We could demonstrate techniques and offer feedback to the students.

You can imagine how this inflated my already elevated sixteen-year-old ego. Giving corrections to college students? Sign me up. I was a green belt when he was in the beginner karate class. I found out later that he was actually a grad student interested in practicing karate long-term.

He came across as cocky at first, overly confident. But then I got to know him. My family took him in. After all, he was a grad student living on his own and adapting to life in a small town in the middle of nowhere. He needed people, and we were more than happy to accommodate. At one point, we "adopted" him, making him my older brother. I always wanted one of those.

His birthday falls pretty close to my younger brother's, and since I seem to be on this kick with the writing, I thought I'd take a minute to write about him. Trevyn is...

Smart

Let's face it, not everyone is a genius. And some people are more intelligent than others. We talk about different types of intelligence, like how some people are great at thinking on their feet while others excel more on the academic side.

Trevyn somehow ended up with the perfect blend of street smart and book smart. When I was a senior in high school, I took calculus at the university. (Perks of the homeschooler life.) Calc was certainly not my strong suit, but as with most things, "it's not what you know; it's who you know."

Trevyn used to tutor people in calculus. He became my go-to for questions and when I needed help using my graphing calculator. While engineering has never been my area of specialty, whilst I was trying to take derivatives, he was working on his master's degree. So, yeah, book smart.

But he's also the guy you give the map to when you get lost and the person you have steer on the rafting trip. He has a confidence that comes from knowledge and an ability to figure things out. Okay, we're lost, but Trevyn will be able to figure it out. It made me feel safer when he was in the group.

Gentle

We took karate together, so don't get me wrong when I use this word to describe him. Gentleness has nothing to do with weakness. Instead, he knew how to control his strength. He could punch and kick with the best of them, but he also had a quietness, a tender side that he knew how to express. Maybe that's why he comes across as both calm and confident.

I guess the best way to describe it is by telling you about how he dances. He's into West Coast swing dancing (something I like to think I encouraged.) In this style, there is both a leader and follower. When Trevyn leads, he guides his partner though each step. He shows his partner what he wants, and he's receptive. He's a strong leader, but not controlling. The connection is gentle because he knows it's the best way to get results. And he wins the trust of his dance partners because they sense his confidence and competency. Gentle because he is strong.

Accepting

Trevyn is a friend to the misfits. He accepts people as they are without judgement. He recognizes what so many have forgotten: you don't have to agree with people to be kind. He will dance with anyone. Play board games with anyone.

We both went to the board game club that met on my campus. The board game club had a knack for welcoming eccentric characters, the socially awkward, the geeks, and the nerds. Guess which one I was. And Trevyn would come every week happy to play and explain any board game to anyone who wanted to play.

I look back on our time together, and he accepted me. He was there for me and helped me transition into college life. He knew when I needed space, and when I just needed someone to be supportive. The grad student office became the place I went to get away, breathe, and be productive. You work on your super-smart thesis thing, and I'll just read this massive nursing textbook in the corner. We're cool.

He trained with me and helped me get my black belt. He helped me practice everything from self-defense to heavy bag work. He was even my running buddy as I worked to build up my endurance. (In the diabetic life, it helped my mom feel better if I had someone with me on runs.)

What he did for me

Trevyn was what a good friend ought to be: someone who pushes you to be a better version of yourself. Because he saw my flaws and oddities and didn't leave. He remained my friend and yet pushed me to be better. My tendency was and still is to get caught up in perfection, self-focus, and to wallow in self-pity.

He didn't let me wallow; he encouraged me to keep trying and to keep fighting. He was the guy who carried his phone and an extra pack of skittles for me on runs to protect me from the dangers of low blood sugar. But he didn't let me focus on "Woe is me. I'm a diabetic with a dud pancreas."

He would train with me after hours and take videos so I could go back and review my technique. Still, he didn't let me stay where I wanted to: "I'm a horrible brown belt who is never going to get anything right."

And through the time my family had with him, I learned that God gives us certain friendships in our lives to enjoy for a season. Certain friendships will grow us and make us better, but those times cannot last forever. And learning that times change and life goes on is part of what it means to mature. But those memories are not something we're supposed to bury or forget.

Wishing him all the best

We don't get to see each other much anymore, not since he moved away. (And there was that whole global pandemic thrown in.) But I know I wish him all the best and look forward to the times when we do get to see each other. May the next dance be soon.

Happy belated birthday, Trevyn. I hope your day was great and full of laughter. Some cake or maybe some muffins. Thanks for all the times you've been there for me. And may this year be your best year yet.

Thanks for reading. If you liked what you read, consider subscribing, leaving a heart, pledging, or giving a tip. If you would like to receive regular updates on my work, please email me at [email protected] and ask to be added to my email list.

You can also follow me on Medium.