Fear and Shortcomings

I’ve been shying away from writing lately – avoiding the one thing that I’m usually the most comfortable doing.

I could chalk it up solely to the fact that I’ve been more invested in building inventory for my Etsy and all of my creative energy is going there, but while that may be part of the truth I know there’s a bit more to it than that.

I wrote a book, my first ever completed book, and all that’s left to do is finish one more round of editing. However at this point it’s taking me almost as much time to muster up the courage – yes, courage – to even look at what I’ve written. Just in this past week God has opened up every door for me to focus on finishing the book and getting started with the next one. One of my packages of supplies for my next project has even been delayed so I’m in a complete crafting lull. Yet I’ve spent my free time doing a lot of things that are not writing. This is the break I’ve been waiting for and now that it’s finally here I’m not taking advantage of it. Up to this point I really haven’t been able to figure out why the thought of finishing is so daunting when I’m so close to being done.

My best explanation is that I’m scared. Plain and simple. I’ve built up this writing dream since I could physically write, and now that I’ve reached a point of needing to actually turn a dedicated hobby into something physical (i.e. a book), I’ve psyched myself out.

I told my boyfriend a few months ago that I get afraid of showing people things like my photography and art because my confidence in those areas isn’t the highest, but I don’t care at all about showing people what I write (as long as it’s completed/edited) because writing is where I’m most comfortable; it’s where I’ve spent the most time, it’s what comes the most naturally to me, it’s my safe haven when audible words completely fail me, it’s my favorite thing to do. I don’t care much what other people think because I love it enough to be content with it. But that’s become a lot less accurate lately.

Nowadays, thoughts of people that I know in real life reading my book terrifies me because of how they may perceive the content. Thoughts of never selling a single copy of any book I ever write equally frightens me. Thoughts of my coworkers finding my book, reading it, and hating it (they’re librarians…reading is kind of a big deal where I work) haunts me everytime I walk into that building. Those thoughts pile on until I see the familiar Word document full of my brain’s treasured thoughts and ideas laid out in front of me and the temptation to hit “delete” becomes overwhelming.

Maybe I’m being dramatic. Maybe I’m (definitely) overthinking it. I know this is all coming from the girl who preached about “just start something and learn as you go” a couple months ago, but I’m honestly too scared to go now that I’ve come so close. Now that the dream I’ve held on to my whole life is becoming some sort of reality and I have no idea how it will be received (if at all), I’m stuck in a place of fearing a lifetime of trying and never really getting anywhere. There’s still such a long way to go and I may never get much farther than putting a few books out there with little in return.

Yes, I will admit that I’m venting…maybe even being a little pessimistic, but I’m also trying to convey to you that no one has their lives completely together. That’s the whole reason I try to be honest about my own shortcomings on this blog. I see a lot of people sharing the exact same sentiments as one another without actually showing the realities behind it – without showing the realities of being human – while showcasing only the highlight reels of their lives (especially online). Of course keeping things private is important and I don’t expect everyone to share every hardship they come across…in fact some of us share too much and I respect those who keep their private life private. However there is a balance of keeping things private and sharing what may be helpful to others, and it’s something I have learned to do over time. All in all, it’s just important to me to put out a reality rather than a fantasy. It’s important to me to say “hey, here’s a shortcoming I have and here’s what I’m learning” because I can’t in good conscience sit back and just preach at you. I can’t tell you what I’ve learned without giving any realistic context. I can’t paint a picture in black-and-white, because most things just aren’t as simple as they seem. I can’t pretend that I have it all together and everything I say is the truth, because that’s ridiculous – I’m human. I have no right telling anyone else what to do when I’m a constant work in progress myself, but I can be honest with you and tell you what I have learned, am currently trying to learn, and/or where God leads me. I can tell you what I think and I will tell you why I think that way, and I will definitely tell you what God tells me, but there will rarely be a time in which I write a blog post as if I know better than you, especially if I have no personal connection to the message I’m trying to convey. Some people can do that and do it well, but that’s not my calling. I’m just here to show that it’s okay to be human because we are, but it’s also important to strive to be the best versions of ourselves and realize God is the ultimate support system. 

Anyway, that felt important to get across but now I’m getting back to the actual point in reference to me being afraid to finish and publish my book and why it’s relevant to people who are probably not trying to write a book.

Being afraid of failure – even when you’re normally super confident in what you do – is normal. It’s okay, as long as you push through it and give yourself time to figure out the root of the problem. No part of life is going to be simple, and it’s rarely ever going to be black-and-white. It’s not as easy as “hey I wrote a book!” There was a lot of struggling, stress, failure, and wanting to give up that went into that book…or whatever it is that you’re trying to accomplish.

And that’s a good thing. It makes what you do mean a thousand times more. The uphill climb makes the downhill slide a lot more fun, or something like that.

I’m not saying fear is a positive, or that you should give into it. What I’m saying is that fear is inevitable and while you should find ways to overcome it, there is nothing wrong with the fact that you were scared to do something that is scary. What matters more is how you treat fear. If you live with a security blanket tightly wrapped around you then you won’t get anything done, but if you live with the knowledge that fear will come and you will be ready to deal with it patiently, I think you’re going to be just fine.

 

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A Little Self Perspective; A Little Bit of Faith

I have found a surprising amount of truth in this little book as of late (pictured: My Utmost For His Highest by Oswald Chambers). It was given to me about four years ago and I rejected it outright; completely refusing to read it but still unable to get rid of it. This devotional meant a lot to the person who gave it to me, so I couldn’t bring myself to donate it when it came time to eliminate some of my books. It’s managed to stay through yearly donations, no matter how much I did not want to read this dang book.

I think I rejected it so much equally because I don’t talk to the person who gave me the book anymore and because the book seems so…fluffy? I can’t stand when Christians speak/write in “Christian-ese,” or like they’re not real people. You know – using outdated words they read in the Bible that no one actually uses nowadays. Not only is it completely unnecessary and impossible to relate to, I find it distracting from the message they are trying to convey. It also comes across as a little high and mighty, and that in turn comes across to me as putting religion over actual faith…which is a big no-no. Anyway, from the one time I tried to read this book that’s the impression I got and, I’ll admit, I was way too quick to judge it.

It wasn’t until August of this year when my boyfriend and I were doing a Bible study together and, on a whim, I decided to take it off my bookshelf and put it with the rest of the study books I had laid out for us. Surprisingly, it was the first book he picked up. Rolling my eyes immediately – which, thankfully, he didn’t catch – he began to read from the page with the current date (August 26th).

Lo and behold, that devotion was centered around his all-time favorite verse: “Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you…” (John 14:27). He has mentioned this verse countless times since we started dating – call it a coincidence or not, but I thought that was pretty crazy. So, I thought, alright I’ll give it this one shot. 

Man it was hard to read. No, not because the devotion read like what I had been expecting, but because it was exactly what I needed to hear.

To put things in context, this past year has been a year of learning how to manage stress and to worry less. I’ve slowly been returning to myself, but at the time of reading that passage I was a complete mess of worry and stress. I underlined the question “Have you left no stone of your faith unturned, yet still not found any well of peace, joy, or comfort?” because that was how I felt to a tee. I wanted to cry, it was so accurate. I felt the farthest from God I think I have felt since I was saved, and no matter what I tried to accomplish I was failing left and right. Failure after failure left me with faith that meant nothing to me anymore because even though I still wanted others to know about God, I wasn’t so sure that He actually had my back.

I think the best response to my attitude at the time can be answered with a line from the same passage: “But if you only try to worry your way out of the problem, you destroy His effectiveness in you, and you deserve whatever you get.” Sounds harsh, I know. I felt the same way, especially considering the fact that before I read it myself it was my boyfriend who read it to me. Hearing “you deserve what you get” from a loved one isn’t in any way easy, but there is a lot of truth in the statement because if I was not willing to let go of worry I couldn’t expect to receive any help…the basis of faith in God is exactly that: faith. Worry is the opposite of faith – of trust.

I’m not going to claim that I never worry or stress out about anything. Obviously that would be ridiculous; I’m still me. I’m still a human with a natural inclination to fear inevitably failing again. However, I’ve learned to be more aware of it and catch myself when I get caught up in anxiety.

Jesus doesn’t make you perfect – you’re still going to be human and flawed – that’s how it works – but He does help you out when you ask for it and have a little faith to go along with it. He’s there to prep you for the next life and make the best/most use of this one. While there is better yet to come, this life doesn’t exist solely to be difficult all the time. Some things happen that are completely out of our own control, but most of our problems can be helped with a little change in our attitudes. As difficult of a reality as that is to face, it’s a reality nonetheless and a lesson I am still learning.

Anyway, I completely forgot about that story until I opened the devotional to that particular page and thought it was worth sharing. God is great, self perspective is good, and life doesn’t have to be filled with constant worry. That is all.

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Prayer

Thursday’s kind of suck.

They’ve proven to be my busiest and most challenging day every single week. I go from one job to another job to school to sleep and that’s it. From screaming kids to more screaming kids and a workload way too heavy for what I get paid to a three hour class and so on…it’s a lot for one day. I barely eat or stop running around for even a second. My daily schedule is hectic enough – wearing me out both physically and mentally without fail, but Thursday’s are particularly challenging.

Yesterday I was near a breaking point. I was reclusive – unable to talk more than I had to to the people I work with because I couldn’t bring myself to put on a fake face of having-it-all-together, the tremor in my left hand resurfaced, I broke out in hives, I cried when a baby I was holding started crying, and I even managed to fall asleep standing up at one point…in the middle of a task at work I just found myself dozing off and eventually being suddenly woken up by the sound of kids – fresh off the school bus – running toward the computers beside me. It all sounds so dramatic and I know everyone has a busy schedule, but this is beyond anything I’ve ever had to handle. I’ve never known the severity of stress and how much it can physically affect you until recently.

Last night, after all that went down, I made a point to do something for my own mental stability. Just a small thing to keep myself from having an evening that was just as challenging as the rest of my day had been.

I got to school a few minutes early, sitting in my car with my music turned to a soft hum, and I opened my prayer journal. As the golden 6 p.m. light illuminated the page I was scribbling (almost incoherently) on, I felt at peace for the first Thursday in a while. Or, really, any day in a while.

With a rush of calm coming over me, I closed my notebook, took a breath, and walked to my classroom finally feeling prepared for the hours yet to come.

And as I turned the corner to my class, I see a girl who typically sits across from me – a mix of exasperation and relief on her face. “It’s cancelled,” she said. Both of us paused for a moment before letting out a laugh. I think, somehow, she and I felt exactly the same in that moment.

As I got home, with the typical I’m-so-tired-I’m-acting-drunk feeling beginning to creep up on me, I fell asleep with ease. No stress; nothing keeping me awake. Normally I’m kept up by thoughts of everything I have yet to accomplish long-term, everything I didn’t get done today, everything on my to-do list for the next day.

But not last night.

And as I sit here on a Friday afternoon, still in my pajamas, I’m not even a little bit stressed out. Usually by this point I’ve already worn myself thin again, having pushed myself to doing more than one person should be doing in a single day – on my day off. But there is still so much peace leftover from one simple prayer – one 5 minute conversation with God.

Today I woke up hearing God very loudly telling me to make myself a weekly schedule, before I could even allow myself the opportunity to think about getting stressed out today. So I did, and now I know exactly what to expect everyday. I know that Friday is now my “Sabbath Day” in which I am not expected to go anywhere or do anything in particular. I’m still going to take the time to clean and probably do something along the lines of studying, but I’m not allowing myself to get stressed about a single thing. I’m allowing myself to breathe, to sleep in, to do one thing I enjoy today.

Sometimes I underestimate the power of praying just because it doesn’t always give me immediate powerful results. Just because I don’t always get what I want. But seriously, what an incredible reminder this has been. I asked God in pure desperation, on the verge of a mental breakdown, to give me peace. I also asked Him to help me find a way to successfully handle a busy schedule without losing myself – which is exactly what has been happening.

I’ve never been the type to let a lot of stress get to me, not to this level at least, and I always try to be a generally upbeat person who sees the good in most situations and most people…but I haven’t been that way. I used to be resilient; that’s what my mom always told me, but not these days. I’ve been letting every inconvenience push me to the point of tears and wanting to give up. All of it has been a result of letting myself think I can handle everything alone, but all that that accomplishes is putting more unnecessary pressure on myself.

I have a tendency to think I can do everything on my own – that God already gave me the tools necessary to handle everyday life, but that’s not the case. Sometimes all He needs to hear from you is that you haven’t forgotten about Him. Sometimes all He’s waiting for is a simple question – for you to recognize that, yes He can and will equip you when the time is right, but you just need to ask for help first; let him know, not only that you recognize He is the one who’s taking care of the situation through you, but that you know when to ask for help. You know when to step back and say “I’m only human, and I’m only one person.”

Pride is an ugly thing and it’s often hard to pinpoint, it’s easy to justify, but thinking that you don’t need help is pride in itself, no matter what way you try to twist it.

So I’m not saying that everything is magically better now. I’m not saying that next week will roll around and I’ll be so happy-go-lucky that it’s like I’ve forgotten what stress is. What I am saying is that I asked for help and God intervened. He took the first step for me, I chose to recognize what He did, and with that recognition comes a lesson that I can handle what is in front of me. God will equip me, as long as I ask for His help and continually talk to Him honestly.

He gives you what you need, when you need it.

Trying (to find peace)

I’ve been tired for a while.

The past year has felt like saying “I’m trying” on repeat. And that’s exactly what I have been doing – still trying to curb my rising stress levels, still trying to go wherever God leads me, still trying to make progress in my life, still trying to improve myself so I can be better for those around me, still trying to find a healthy balance between being constantly focused on what lies ahead and living for what is right now.

Still, I’m trying.

One of my biggest fears, for example, is the potential need for my dream of being an author to be altered. The older I get, the more that seems to become a reality. When I was younger I’d sit quietly at lunch listening intently to other kids tell stories and prattle on about their daily adventures, and later while they ran around on the playground getting their energy out, I was alone regaining mine – writing down their stories and making them my own – playing fantasy games like they did, just a bit more quietly. Writing has always felt both like home and an adventure, and in more recent years, it makes me feel close to God. It’s the one thing that I don’t feel the need to be the very best at, because it just feels good to do it; but in doing so, I also improve. So, with this intense passion for writing I have developed from the moment I could string sentences together comes an intense dread for compromise. For settling. For giving it up because life may one day get too much in the way. Yes I will always be a writer, but I may not get the opportunity to write in the way I always hoped I could, and that saddens me. Even though I’m aware God has a plan regardless of what happens (as long as I keep putting in the necessary effort and listening to His guidance) what will be will be and I will make it through, the idea still keeps me awake some nights. I’m human; I falter, but I’m improving. I’m trying.

There’s so much to stress out about; to make me want to hide from the world and hope it stops nagging me. But I have a Music Appreciation test tomorrow and pages of notes still yet to take, I have a job to go to in the morning, a book to finish writing at some point, and laundry to fold. So much laundry. The world isn’t going to ever stop nagging me to do a thousand things at once and pulling me in every possible direction. It won’t stop giving you or I reasons to feel inadequate or scared or stressed or, more likely, some annoying combination of all of those and more. The world will throw problems at you left and right. Some bigger than others, of course, but it’s the daily stressors that sneak up on you – building up until you feel like you’re going to burst. (Luke 21:34)

But God’s just looking at you, probably stroking his beard, tapping his foot, whistling as He waits; wondering when you’ll finally realize you’re going to be fine. He’s got this. Even if you have no idea what’s going on, thank goodness He always does. (John 14:27)

Believe me, I have to remind myself of this about ten times a day and I still have my moments where I question it entirely. A million questions starting with “…but,” pop in my head daily, and yet I’m still okay. I’ve made it this far and every situation I didn’t think I would get through, I did. “Just calm down and stop overthinking” is a phrase I use mentally about everyday. The only way that phrase has any weight, the only way it ever works, is when I combine it with prayer – when I direct it to God. Life just seems easier to handle when I pray everyday, and that’s no coincidence. The only time I truly feel at ease is when I prayer journal, which I’ve been getting back to doing at least once a day. You can’t expect anything from God if you don’t ask, you can’t expect answers if you don’t listen, and you can’t expect change if you can’t handle honesty. “Our prayers may be awkward. Our attempts may be feeble. But since the power of prayer is in the One who hears it and not in the one who says it, our prayers do make a difference.” (Max Lucado)

So my point is that life is stressful and uncertain and there is a lot to worry about, but you don’t have to let that hinder you. You don’t have to be held back by fear of the unknown, because God knows what lies ahead. Talk to Him about it and then build some true faith. What will happen will happen and you can choose to make the best of it by talking to God and being open to what He has to say.

I’m going to wrap this up with a story about a woman I visited in a nursing home today, because she inspired this entire post:

One of my closest friends and I decided we wanted to start scrapbooking, which she ended up mentioning to her grandmother. A week later, we were on our way to visit her so she could lend us some of her supplies. I tagged along, unsure of what to expect and wondering why someone I’ve never met would be kind enough to lend me things that are precious to her. But we get there and I’m greeted by an older woman with a kind smile and upbeat attitude, and I instantly feel at ease around her. She giddily shows us around the building while leading us to the small apartment-style room she and her husband share. When she opens her door, it isn’t the size of the space that I notice right away, but the fact that she made it feel warm and inviting. I didn’t notice the hospital curtain until the end of my visit, because all I initially saw was an inviting couch, photos of family members on most of the walls, and an overflowing crafting table. She talked endlessly about family and friends, but what struck me the most was the fact that she was open about her hesitation with living there. She did not want to move to this place. She’d given up her car, her home, and her friends to live in an assisted living home in which she can’t even cook for herself and her husband. It took her a long time to adjust to the environment. Though she hadn’t pointed it out herself, it was obvious that she was in the best shape, both physically and mentally, out of probably anyone else in the facility. She didn’t feel like she belonged there. She was depressed for a while, and still goes through some “weepy days” as she put it, but she said all this with a smile because she was learning to make the best of it. She put her crafting abilities to use and holds weekly card-making classes, she charges a couple dollars for her pre-made cards (as she pulled out a hundred cards she had made to show us what she can do), and she is lobbying to hold a craft fair so all the ladies in this community can have the opportunity to sell what they make as well. Her crafting classes have gone so well that she has gone from using her own supplies to the staff saying “buy what you need and we will reimburse you.” She proudly told us, “I found my niche,” and she went on to tell us that she believes she was put there to be a caretaker of sorts. To be a ray of sunshine to these people. She took her less-than-ideal situation, made it a God opportunity, and through it she found an overwhelming sense of peace.

She gave me hope that I hadn’t realized I needed until today.

She ended our visit with a piece of advice: “I’ve seen the top of a mountain, and the while the mountain itself is just rock and ice, the view is amazing – like nothing you’ve ever seen before. But it is in the valleys that the wildflowers and grass grow. Both are equally important.” (James 1:2-4)

 

 

 

 

 

I Went For A Run (And Learned Some Things)

I went for a run today.

Okay, so it was more of a brisk walk with a few spurts of jogging…but I did it!

Before I get into my reasons for spontaneously going on a three mile (sort of) jog-ish thing, you’ll need some backstory. Last week I went running with a friend (who is actually a runner, so she has also been acting as my motivator for getting back into shape) and after talking about it for ages, she finally convinced me to go with her. What ended up being a disastrous turn of events also turned out to be a huge push for me in the right direction.

We got lost as we distracted ourselves with talking, assuming the trail would eventually loop back around to where we parked (surprise, it didn’t). All in all we ended up walking/jogging a total of ten miles. My left foot is still not very happy about that excursion, but the rest of me is thankful because I forgot how much I actually enjoy exercising. I forgot how much my body is capable of if I’m having a good time – that I’m not as weak as I always think I am. I forgot that I love to run and let my anxieties melt away. I forgot that I don’t really equate running with working out, because I only ever “worked out” to look better and never actually enjoyed it, but running feels like an escape from reality.

I wanted to go again, alone this time, and though I needed a week’s break after those ten miles for the sake of letting my foot heal, I found myself back on the familiar mulch track she and I started on seven days prior.

I’ve been pretty transparent on here about my past struggles with body image and one thing that held me back from exercising for the past year is how I have abused my body in the past. I spent a lot of time not eating and in that time I was exercising relentlessly – hours upon hours upon hours of trying to tone and shrink the body I taught myself to hate. Since then I have had an aversion to anything involving exercise because I’m afraid of becoming obsessed again or doing it for the wrong reasons. Which is a silly thought because it’s been a year since I’ve seriously struggled with it and while I know some fears may never fully go away, I also know better than to believe something so miniscule could ever be more powerful than the strength God taught me to find within myself.

Today I woke up knowing that I needed to be alone, just God and I. I needed to reevaluate some things within myself and allow for time in which I could reassess a few lessons I have let fall to the wayside. So I escaped to the familiar quiet park where I could reflect, and while I planned on simply sitting on a bench and reading my Bible or praying, I felt God tell me to run instead; to let go and feel free for a little while because I’ve been in a constant state of stress. So here are some things that I learned.

  1. It’s not always about being the best or the fastest. Sure, strive to be the best you can, but also keep a rational mind. I felt God while I was running; I felt Him in the sound of the sea breeze moving gently through the trees above me and the distant murmur of children on a playground. I felt close to Him because it was just He and I in that moment; the world still existed, yes, but it was more beautiful than I’ve seen it in a long time because I saw it all as God’s. It was very meditative, but it wouldn’t have been if I was solely focused on “go faster,” “push harder,” and so on. It’s more about the journey than the destination, or however the expression goes.
  2. Take detours when you can. I found a path off to the side that I knew wouldn’t lead me in the direction I had intended to go, but it was beautiful. I’m all for being focused on your goals and whatnot, but sometimes a distraction is necessary. Sometimes a distraction is put in your place to give you some perspective – a chance to reflect, breathe, and take a moment to be introspective. I ended up enjoying myself the most on my ten minute detour. There was an expanse of grass with benches to sit on, trees towering over me for optimal shade, a place off to the side where someone had a bonfire the night prior, and there were birds everywhere – from huge turkey vultures lurking in the corner to a baby bluejay hopping in the grass. It was serene and a little magical, like it was hidden away just for me to discover right then, and I found myself really smiling for the first time since I had started running. That’s where I felt God the most, but I wouldn’t have been able to enjoy it if I had been so focused on staying on the path that I didn’t allow myself to explore at all.
  3. Don’t eat Skittles before you exercise. This may not seem like a real lesson, but I’m just telling you that you should make better decisions than me because I was fully aware that I should have eaten something healthy, but as I sat in my car for twenty minutes psyching myself up to actually run I realized I had been tearing through a bag of Skittles in my purse. It was like someone else took over my actions in that moment and I didn’t realize what was happening until it was too late…and by that I mean I was really hungry, I only had skittles readily available, but I honestly probably wouldn’t have chose anything else even if I had had the option. Baby steps. I’m getting healthy in baby steps. But still, don’t do something that dumb. Jesus would be smart enough to eat a salad or something, but I chose Skittles and very much regretted it. Just FYI.
  4. Speaking of sitting in my car for twenty minutes psyching myself up, that’s a thing I did. And that’s possibly the biggest lesson learned today (or, actually, more of a reminder since God and I have been over it a few times at this point): stop allowing fear to keep you from doing what you should. Stop allowing yourself to be your own worst enemy. Stop allowing unimportant things to hold you back. I was anxious about people watching me run because I don’t do it often and I don’t always go into new situations feeling super confident, but there’s a reason God spent all of last year making sure I was alone learning independence in spite of useless fears. Today He reminded me that I allowed fear back into my life and it’s time to let go of it, so I did. And I ran. 

God is in every part of life, not just in church or the Bible, and He can teach you a lesson in sometimes the strangest, most unexpected ways. Today was one of those strange, unexpected lesson days and I’m grateful to have a God that calls me out when I need to readjust my thought process and actions.

 

Change

Last summer I spent an evening in Savannah, Georgia. My mom and I embarked on our yearly trip to meet some family members in Tennessee, and what was supposed to just be a fun rest stop amidst a 14 hour drive turned into a sort of turning point for me.

After a bad breakup and several attempts to find love (or more like comfort, in hindsight) in all the wrong places, prior to this day I hadn’t thought about how much I needed a new outlook . My mom has always been the person who understands me better than anyone else could dream of, and a week of me and her on the road did more good for me than I realized at the time.

To most people, this photo looks like nothing more than a semi-blurry picture of a girl in a restaurant. But I see a hundred problems hiding under the surface: a girl who has lost her sense of direction in life, who is beyond frustrated, mentally counting the calories in the meal she just ordered, and wondering how much longer she can stand to be alive.

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I was obsessed with appearances. I had to be the skinniest, prettiest person I could turn myself into. I had to be fit, working out for hours upon hours everyday until I felt sick. I learned to love the feeling of an empty stomach. I still do, though now I wish I didn’t. I  piled on makeup to the best of my ability and wore outfits that I thought made me look smaller. I had to fix everything, but found new problems with myself everyday. I took selfies and posted them on Instagram to prove to others and myself that I had confidence.

There is nothing wrong with taking care of oneself, or wanting to look nice and be healthy, but I took it to an extreme. I loved when my extended family commented on how great I suddenly looked. I loved that boys suddenly paid attention to me and girls wanted to be my friend. I loved that I had a secret, that I could reinvent myself by choosing who I spent my time with, that I could pretend to fit in with people other than my immediate family for a change.

But those things did not equate to happiness. I did not find salvation in any of them. All I felt was a constant ache for more, but I didn’t get anything more until I proved that, while I may not necessarily deserve it, I could work hard for better things. I could have the best intentions, be positive, and be genuine as often as possible.

I needed God, and acted (even believed at times) that He and I were perfectly okay with each other, but I found that I couldn’t simultaneously be abusing/lying to myself and be in a healthy relationship with Him. Praying means next to nothing if I turn around and act irrational the next minute, whether that be in the way I treat my body or the poor decisions I make to feel less empty.

Relying on frivolous things like appearances, other people’s validation, and success to bring you joy will only result in feeling worse off in the end. I was never more broken than I was at that time, but it was in the brokenness that I was able to make a change.

I didn’t figure everything out on that trip. I didn’t suddenly turn into a new person or have a great relationship with God in a day. Even now, our relationship falters. I’m human and while it’s not an excuse, it is a fact that I’m not going to be perfect. However, it was a turning point.

Throughout that single week, I made decisions that I truly believed would better my life. And sanity, if we’re honest. I had incredible conversations about salvation, thought a lot about what God wanted me to do and how He wanted me to treat myself, and it was because of those decisions that I finally was able to move forward with my life.

I have never been able to say that I am happy. Even in the best moments, I didn’t feel a constant sense of joy. But even on my darker days, I have hope now. I wouldn’t have that if I hadn’t made difficult, but responsible decisions back then. I had to face reality instead of complaining about it, and as soon as I did, my entire outlook on myself and my existence changed. I changed. I grew.

Home

I knew a boy who lived in a sea of rolling hills – the town he grew up in like waves far out in the ocean

I was a boat tied to the dock while he swam along the coast freely

 

We simultaneously put each other first and last while expecting harmonious synchronization

Two people forcing their way into a thing they called home even if it felt like a warzone

 

We got stuck between growing up and being grown up because it was the place we knew best

Comfortable in the discomfort of never knowing what might lie ahead but still feeling certain that we’d both be a part of each other’s futures

 

But a person shouldn’t be a Lighthouse

And we were far from perfect

 

Eventually the ocean turned dark and he went away as the tide swirled around my ankles, untying the rope that held me where I thought I’d always be safe

I drifted alone until he was barely a speck on the horizon, waving to me from the safety of warm grass, solid ground, and sunlight like a halo

 

On my own I found my way to a new place where the waves didn’t crash, just sort of swayed back and forth

I found softer hands to hold, and the hills where I used to hide behind went away with the sunset

 

Now my new home actually feels like a home – nothing like the former secluded hideaway I wasn’t allowed to leave until God or somebody forced me out

It’s four walls and a bed to share, toes in the water, and a Lighthouse to lead me in every direction

 

We work now in tandem

Two people creating and discovering together, allowing for both self-identity and someone to trust

 

There are no hills or a need for them – only open sky and a horizon that is always bright

My tomorrow never seeming dim because I have something to bring me home and someone to go home to