3/30/17: A Confused Blogger/Human

I don’t know what I’m doing. Does that surprise you? Probably not, but do you know what you’re doing either? HA. Come on. None of us really do, despite the fact that we love to appear like we have it all figured out.

Today, I really felt like blogging. Today, I allowed myself to blog because I feel good about where I am emotionally. It’s been a conscious thought these past two weeks (and technically one day, but I caved and posted once, so it evens out to two weeks exactly) to not blog. Gabby, don’t give in. You can make it to two weeks. 

I’m glad I stayed away and forced myself to take a break, but neither my perspective nor my opinion on my blog changed until I actually sat down and wrote about it. That’s right, I’ve spent a majority of these two weeks not writing at all. Little things here and there when I couldn’t resist, but overall, I’ve hardly touched either my notebook or my laptop. It was actually quite nice to not feel so busy and weighed down by guilt if I didn’t write successfully every single day, but man I really can’t figure anything out if I don’t put pen to paper. Or, alternatively, fingers to keyboard. It’s good to write again. For me.

I don’t know if I’m quite ready to come back full force and blog everyday like I was pre-hiatus. I don’t know if I will ever do that full-time again. I don’t know a lot of things! I do know that I’m here now. I know that, for the second half of my self-proclaimed hiatus, I will post when I am inspired and leave it at that. I cut myself off completely for two weeks, and I’ll spend two more posting sporadically as I see fit.

I constantly feel the need to put myself in a box. I am a poet, I’ll say. Meanwhile, I will ignore my desires to also be an author and anything else I want to be simply because I don’t want to come across like I don’t know what I’m doing or that I have too many interests (spoiler alert, I don’t and I do). Yet, most of the blogs I love the most don’t post about one thing everyday. Most people I know don’t stick to doing one thing everyday. How boring would that be?

I can write a novel, write poetry, write rambling posts like this, take photos, make videos, create art, run a Disney blog on the side, bake cupcakes and brownies, learn the ukulele, design clothing that I will never actually make, be an avid reader, be a library page, be a babysitter, go to church, go to school, hang out with friends, watch mind-numbing television, and a thousand other things. I can do so all on my own time table. I can do so without feeling guilty. That’s what makes me who I am, as much of a cliche as that may sound (cue a Camp Rock era Demi Lovato singing This Is Me). Having more than one interest, fitting into more than one group, is a part of what differentiates a person from an individual.

I know what parts of me I want to hone in on, the parts that I want to be the best and focus my career on, but that doesn’t mean I have to push the rest of me aside. That’s not to say that I’m suddenly going to attempt being a lifestyle blogger again (dear Lord, that was a disaster), but my point is that I’m going to stop taking everything so damn seriously. Yes, my blog is very important to me and I want to take it seriously for that reason, but I also want to enjoy it. My writing reflects what I feel and if I’m not happy, y’all will know it.

These past two weeks have been filled with a lot of reading, painting, bedroom designing, shopping, cooking, family time, friend time, and learning how to go from being overly concerned with trying to do everything right to learning how to just let go.

Life is good, everything is fine, we are all trying to figure it out. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. A little pressure is good, but don’t go crazy with it. Okay? Take a breather. Go outside for a minute, breathe in some fresh air, do whatever you need to do to relax and refocus. There is nothing wrong with doing something solely because you enjoy it. Despite what you may think, you need those activities just as much as every other important thing written in your planner.


3/16/17: A Hiatus

If I can’t dedicate several hours a day to solo creative time, I lose a lot of myself. I lose my energy, positivity, and at times, my will to live. I know that makes me sound extremely dramatic, but hear me out.

Today I said the words, “I think God forgot to give me a purpose.” Part of me believes that to be true for a multitude of reasons that I will not get into here, but I also know that I was made to do two things: talk about God, and make things. When I can’t do one of those, I go crazy. I lose my reason for being here. I fear a day when I can’t do either.

Lately, I haven’t been doing so well because I haven’t been able to dedicate adequate time everyday to doing anything creative. In complete honesty, I haven’t been doing well for over a year, but let’s focus on just right now.

I’m going to take some time away. I’m going to take time to go out and take photos, to write, to paint, to make videos, all without the pressure of posting them right away. I need to catch back up and be ahead of schedule as I have always enjoyed being. Plus, I just want to be invisible for a while. I will still read and like other people’s posts. Maybe it’s the wrong time to do this since I finally hit the 200 follower mark here and the 300 follower mark on my Instagram (hey, that’s not bad when only about 20 of those are people I know in real life), but I’m deciding to instead take it as reassurance that my blog will be okay.

I also need to reevaluate some things; to think pretty much my entire life through. I want to do what God wants me to do, but I’m not hearing much from Him these days, so I’m going to spend time focused on Him. I need God, I need answers, I need to be happier than I have been for far too long.

Frankly, I’m also tired of people asking if I am okay based on the things I write. I try to be a very positive person, but I have been told that my writing does not reflect that. I’m tired of people saying I make them sad with what I write, and I refuse to be responsible for contributing to other people’s heartache. If this blog is a detriment to other people’s mental health, then I will walk away and teach myself to write something else. I just don’t know what that is yet. This blog was my rock, the one stable thing in an otherwise chaotic time in my life, but it isn’t my blog anymore. It doesn’t feel like it is, anyway. It feels like it belongs to everyone else, to all the people telling me to change it. To most of the people I know personally that read my posts. I have to take each of them into careful consideration every time I hit “publish.” I know good writers do what they believe in despite what other people have to say about it, but maybe I’m not a good writer after all.

All of this sounds very dramatic and you’re probably ready to hit the unfollow button because you think I won’t be back for a year, or ever, but that’s not the case. I’m simply saying I don’t know exactly how long I’ll be gone, likely somewhere between a couple weeks and a month, but I wanted to give a reason for why I won’t be posting every single day like I have been for the past several months. I will undoubtedly be back very soon.

3/14/17: The Sometimes-Friend

They forgot about me.

The familiar but intense feeling growing in the pit of her stomach is not what she wanted to deal with today as she realizes that, again, she is going to be alone for the evening while the people who have the audacity to call her their friend laugh and make memories and have fun together.

I am not going to be here only when it’s convenient for everyone else. I am not a doorstop. I am not going to be the friend everyone keeps separate from the rest of their lives. 

She will, though. She will forgive them when they want to invite her somewhere last minute. She will give them the benefit of the doubt. She will be their sometimes-friend because the loneliness will start to feel like too much soon enough. She will be grateful that somebody pays attention to her.

It isn’t a big deal. You know this feeling. It may not pass, but it will lessen. Breathe.

It’s been there for years, though she’s tried to interpret the truth in a thousand better ways. None are great, but all are better than the reality she has to face: she is the second choice.

Or third, or tenth, or last.

Everyone she has ever let in, the people she considers the most special to her, like to keep her at a safe distance. On the back burner, conveniently sitting around until they decide they have time for her company. That time seems to decrease the more they get to know her.

What does that say about me?

It started as a small child, maybe 6 or 7, when she would spend her afternoons with a girl in her neighborhood. They played dress-up, wrote secret letters to one another, went on adventures, annoyed their siblings, did everything that little kids were supposed to do together. One day, she arrived at her dear friend’s house to find the door locked. She knocked, and knocked, and knocked again. The next day, she did the same. The day after, her friend’s mother answered the door to regretfully tell her that they were simply too busy. She stopped coming over for a while in hopes that her friend would come to her house, despite never doing so in the past. Her friend did not, and after almost two weeks of waiting, she tried once more.

She knocked, and knocked, and knocked again. This time her friend answered, but she wasn’t alone. There was another girl, a prettier girl with long blonde hair cascading perfectly down the front of a skinny body in an expensive dress. The girl stood there where she used to be everyday, looking like such a better fit for her friend than she could ever be. The girl and her friend looked at each other, exchanging a silent conversation like the ones she used to be so familiar with. She felt like she was awaiting her fate to be decided.

Ask me to join, please. I can be fun too. 

Through a series of giggles, they told her to come back some other time.

She grew older and quickly picked up on this reoccurring pattern. People grew tired of her. They came, pretended they would stay, and left her for someone who was a better fit. Even the only boy she loved, the one who made promises of forever and kissed her like she was his whole world, decided that he wanted better things. Better people.

Somehow she isn’t bitter, despite being aware that every friendship and relationship alike ends up with the same result. At least I can enjoy them for a little while, she thinks. She’s learned to appreciate being the sometimes-friend and the plan-B and the backup. It’s a lot less responsibility than being an always-friend.

On top of it all, she holds on to the hope that one day she will find someone who stays because they want to, who always chooses her, who loves her even when it isn’t convenient, who maybe feels a little bit like she does. And that will make it all worth it.

They will be all worth it.

Keep Asking

“You have not, because you do not ask.” -James 4:2

My mother quoted this in a conversation with me yesterday, and then I opened my devotional this morning and what was at the top of the page? You guessed it. James 4:2.

Okay God, I get it. So why am I not asking for what I want? It seems so simple. I want something, I don’t know how to get it on my own, and God literally says “Hey, you can ask me!” while I keep scratching my head thinking, “I just don’t know what to do.” Humans are so stubborn. (By humans, I mean me).

Oftentimes, we think we’re smart enough to figure everything out on our own. Sure, God gave us all brains for a reason (again you guessed it, to use them), but there is still so much outside of our control, outside of our understanding. That’s when God looks at us like, “Alright, I’m waiting.” Maybe we’ll ask once, but since the heavens didn’t open up and reveal what we wanted at that exact moment, our immediate reaction is to discredit God. Humans are also incredibly rash and impatient.

Matthew 7:7 says, “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.” Keep on asking. If you don’t see results, ask again. God waits for a lot of reasons. Maybe He wants to see if you’re really serious about it; if you’re going to be as fervent about asking next month as you are today. Maybe your heart wasn’t in the right place. Maybe He wants to give you what you’re asking for, but knows that you don’t need it right now. Something else may need to fall into place first. Or maybe He’s looking out for you and, while you might not actually need what you are asking for, He’s planning something else that you do.

Not only does Matthew 7:7 tell us to keep asking, but it tells us that we need to be asking in the right way. “How you ask is also important. The Bible says in James 5:16 that the fervent, effectual prayer of a righteous man makes tremendous power available. What kind of person? A righteous person! Not one who feels guilty, condemned, no good, and as if God is angry with him. Not one who is fearful, cowardly, timid, indecisive, and double-minded.” (Joyce Meyer, The Confident Woman)

Long story short, be confident when you ask for something. Ask like you mean it. Don’t give up easily. You probably don’t deserve what you want if you’re going to give up after only asking once, or without even asking at all.

That’s the important thing to remember about God. He’s always there, waiting for us to approach Him, but we’re often too stubborn to actually take the initiative, to admit that we might need some assistance. Instead of saying, “Okay, well you had your chance,” and moving on, He stays. He waits. He hopes relentlessly that you do approach Him. He wants it so badly that He will wait your entire life if He has to. Now that’s dedication.

Just A Kiss

Suddenly he’s standing closer than he used to,

And he’s kissing me.

Without a hint of hesitation,

I fall back into him.

This is familiar,

The feeling of his lips against mine and it’s sweeter than ever.

I am coming home,

Back to where I belong.


This has to be wrong.

We said this wasn’t going to happen,

Even though we both knew we wouldn’t be able to stop it.

“I thought we’re supposed to be friends,”

I say as I begrudgingly pull away.

I want to be closer,

But it’s always been my job to be the strong one.

His eyes are still closed,

While mine widen in surprise at the way I can suddenly speak my mind.

No hesitation,

I’m jumping in head first with my arms open.

Slowly and with some indecipherable intent,

He’s looking at me again.

Never missing a beat,

A gentle hand is brought to my burning cheek.

“We are,”

He smirks and I’m reminded that he knows me better than anyone else.

He kisses me again,

And I let him.


Song: Like You Used To – Tessa Violet

I Had Enough

You loved me once.

I was everything you wanted.

You wanted me for the rest of your life.

I had never been happier.

You gave me a ring and a smile.

I wore both with pride.

You had me hooked.

I was in too deep.

You tore away the veil.

I still didn’t want to see the truth.

You wanted the best of both worlds.

I became your second choice.

You blamed me.

I did too.

You threw careless words at me.

I took every one to heart.

You stood me up.

I left.

You came back pleading.

I believed you like I always did.

You hadn’t changed.

I kept begging for honesty.

You knew you were my weakness.

I was tired of fighting back.

You said you needed some time away.

I made a fool of myself to get to you stay.

You stopped answering.

I didn’t stop calling.

You took everything I had.

I was left with nothing.

You got away with the upper hand.

I wanted my freedom.

You tried to come back.

I pushed you away.

You told me I would never find a better man.

I said you were never going to be a man.

You wore me down.

I was afraid of the ammunition you threatened to use.

You reminded me that you were in control.

I wasn’t listening.

You got angry.

I mailed back your ring.

You said you needed one more chance.

I knew better.

You suddenly became the weak one.

I never wanted an advantage over you.

You cried and begged for me to see things your way.

I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt.

You were always a bad liar.

I was okay on my own.

You needed me.

I got away.


Song: Blue Ain’t Your Color – Keith Urban