Life is Hard (I'm Getting Over It)

Life is hard.

For as long as I can remember, that phrase has been my parents’ go-to response every time my sisters or I complained about a chore or cried about a grade or tried to get out of an event.

“I can’t do physics, it’s too hard!”

“Yeah, well, life is hard, kid. Get over it.”

At the time, I didn’t appreciate the sentiment and its ability to dismiss whatever I was feeling in favor of working through the problem to find the solution. And to be honest, I still don’t really like it.

Life is hard. I don’t think, as kids, we can appreciate the weight of this fact that our parents and elders toss around so haphazardly. Physics is hard, sure. Running 3.1 miles in the August heat is difficult, yes. And I maintain that folding a fitted sheet is a task that can only be accomplished through sheer black magic. But none of those things are essential – despite my mom’s frustration, I could go on living my entire life and never fold a fitted sheet.

I cannot, however, go on living and not…well…live. And yet, at its very core, this thing called existence can feel damn near impossible sometimes. The present demands to be seen and felt and dealt with constantly, and yet I find myself drawn to a preoccupation with an intense ache for the past, as though wanting it enough can bring back easier times and free me from the trials of the present.

I was active in Campus Ministry at a Catholic university for 5 years, so I’ve heard the phrase “we are all beautifully broken” more times than I can count. But it wasn’t until I had graduated and tried to move into “real life” that I truly appreciated what that means. Post-grad life has shown me summarily that whatever else I am, I am most definitely broken. I have been cast out into the world, ejected from the structures and families that helped me feel safe for the majority of my life, and the ground has shifted under my feet. I have wallowed, I have cried, I have screamed into the void, I have taken up and dropped more hobbies than I can count in the 4 short months that have passed since my graduation, but none of these things have served to patch me back together.

Life is hard. Life in college was hard, and life before college was hard, and so far life after college has been the most difficult time yet. But I am writing this post to remind myself that I have always made it through.

When I look back on the fear I felt as I stood, trembling, in the bathroom contemplating ditching out on the college job interview that I couldn’t yet know would change my life, I don’t regret doing the difficult thing and walking in to the room, instead of running away from it. When I remember how difficult it was for freshman me to step out of my dorm room and go out to a social event with people I didn’t know, I don’t for a second wish that I had stayed inside in my pajamas binge-watching The Office and eating trail mix. At the time, those things felt impossible. And yet I did them. I trusted that good would come from the pain, and I chose to suck it up, kid. And the result was a chain reaction of things more beautiful than I ever could have imagined.

Life right now just feels hard. And I am not by any stretch claiming to have a remedy for that. The aching is still present every day, and maybe it always will be. Five years ago, I thought life was always going to be bland and scary and terrible and I had accepted that fate for myself when suddenly life came around and showed me the beauty that can be. Maybe I’ve lost a lot of that perspective since then, and I've forgotten to look for the beauty in the brokenness. But I will still continue to choose to do the things that feel impossible, because although this life is hard, it is ridiculously, unceasingly, wonderfully made and beautifully broken, and I choose to stay and see every second of it.

Semicolon 4/16

As the wordiest writer I know, I am a huge fan of the semicolon. It's like grammar created a punctuation mark just for me. Oh, what's that, you wrote an entire sentence but you still want to add another thought to it? Boom. Semicolon. Carry on. (My Writing professor, on the other hand, is not as fond of my punctuating habits. She's constantly inserting periods into my papers. But such is life.)

Anyway. Today is not a day for ranting about grammar and punctuation, even though I could. Today is a special day. There's a post circulating on Tumblr that reads like this: "On April 16, 2013, everyone who self harms, is suicidal, depressed, has anxiety, is unhappy, going through a broken heart, just lost a loved one, etc. draw a semicolon on your wrist. A semicolon represents a sentence the author could've ended, but chose not to. The author is you and the sentence is your life."

That's pretty much powerful enough to stand on its own, so I'll try not to cloud the message up with too much fluff from me. Basically though, I love this idea. We've all been broken. We've all had our down days and our dark times and our moments we wouldn't want to tell anyone about. But our stories aren't over. Our sentences aren't finished. And on days like this, we learn that there are millions of other people out there in the same spot, ready to reach out if we just let them.

It's just beginning.

Honestly

  

The main problem with having a blog titled "Life Conquered" is that it's only really possible to write relevant posts when you feel as though you are conquering life. This is all well and good when you're accomplishing things and feel on top of the world. It doesn't work so well when you feel as though life is conquering you. The song above is one of my personal favorites, and it always seems to crop up in my life when I need it most. 

 
Honestly, can I tell you where I'm at? 

Honestly, can I pull the curtain back?

Will you run if you see how weak I am?

People have this idea of what it means to be me, of who I am and what I think and feel and do. I helped them create that idea through the things I said and just as importantly, through the things I left unsaid. I hid the truth behind a curtain to protect my heart, so I didn't have to feel hurt or pain or sadness. I am afraid that if people know who I really am, they'll run away from me. But at the same time I want to let them in.

Honestly, I'm growing sick and tired.
Honestly, it hurts too much to hide.
Brokenness that's killing us inside.

I'm tired of pretending to be something I'm not. I'm sick of hiding everything inside. It hurts to pretend I'm not broken even when my world is falling apart and to go through the motions acting like I've got it all figured out when I don't. I spent so much time pretending, following a script I learned to keep people from asking too many questions. I don't want to do that anymore.

If you don't see the real me, you won't see what mercy's done.
If you don't see my weakness, you won't see what Love has won.
If you don't see the distance from the darkness to the sun,
You won't see
Honestly

I talk a lot about how my life has changed recently, how God is working and how different I feel from the person I was in high school. But what does that mean to most people? Probably next to nothing, because in high school I was pretty much your stereotypical picture of a well-adjusted, intelligent student. So what, God took me from doing pretty well to...still doing pretty well? Stunning.

Well, not exactly. God took me through Hell, actually. I've doubted everything I thought I knew to be true, including the existence of God himself. I've hated myself, the person I was, my thoughts and actions. I've wanted to run away, to sleep for a decade, to change my body. I hurt until I couldn't hurt anymore. I became numb to the world. That's where I really am. That's how far down God had to reach for me.

Let the light escape from this hole inside my soul
When I start to break then grace begins to flow
Let the light escape from this lonely place inside my soul
Honestly

But that isn't where I'm staying. I have light inside me. It's trapped behind so many walls but it's there, just waiting to burst through the second I open the door. We all have masks and walls we hide behind. And we all have the power to get rid of them and let people see us for what we really are. I don't want to hide anymore. I want to show Him. I don't want to be numb and lonely. I want to spread love to others and know that I am worthy of love myself.

And that's the honest truth.

The Best Thing I've Ever Heard on the Internet (Bonus Rant Included)

     In case you missed me posting it on every other social networking site, at the bottom of this post is the link to what I believe is the most incredible thing I've ever heard on the Internet. It doesn't matter if you listen to it first and then read the rest of this or if you read it first and then listen (I'm personally a fan of doing things in order, but to each his own). Obviously I recommend that you both read this and listen to it, but if you're feeling really lazy or bored with my writing or you just don't have time to do both then jump down right now and listen to it. You will not regret this decision.
     I'm not going to say much, because I think the audio clip pretty much speaks for itself. I just want to add a side rant based on something I've seen going around the web lately. There seems to be this movement of people with mental health problems who think that they can diagnose and give advice to others. On the surface I guess that sounds like a good thing, oh, they want to help people. Except their "advice" is more along the lines of, "If you're just sad sometimes but don't want to die, don't you dare call yourself depressed. If you just skipped a couple meals, don't claim to have an eating disorder. If you only get nervous in certain situations, that's not anxiety. You're fine. Get over it. I'm the one with the real problem here."
     Sue me if that floats your boat, but these people seem to me to be completely and utterly wrong. It disgusts me that anyone, let alone someone who has struggled with something, would ever make someone else feel like their problems aren't important enough to deserve help. Because the way I see it, this isn't a contest and the point isn't whether or not your problem is as severe as anyone else's. The point is that you are struggling with something, be it a food obsession or a feeling of emptiness or a compulsion to hurt yourself so you can get through the day (regardless of whether you're actually starving yourself or planning your death or self-harming) and you deserve help as much as the next person.
     People need to realize that posting things like this, while I'm sure they're well-intentioned attempts to help people understand the severity of some problems, can really hurt people. Reading someone's post that says "Your problems aren't bad enough, you don't deserve help," isn't helpful to anyone. All it does is make a person feel bad about thinking they need help (which in itself is probably enough evidence that you do) decide that they'd just be wasting everyone's time by trying to get it.
     I said I'd keep it short, but you should've known that was a lie if you know anything about me. I'll get off my high horse now. But if you're still with me, seriously, listen to this audio clip. It's a beautiful message that everyone should hear. (Yes, it is specifically aimed at girls, but the general message applies to everyone.)

This One's for the Girls

Milkshakes Melt, People Change

     So recently, I've been doing a lot of thinking about the people that are in my life and how they got there. And perhaps even more, I've been thinking about the people who aren't in my life, or at least aren't in my life in the capacity I would have them be in it.
     I'm sure everyone has at least one person who isn't as big a part of their world as they would hope. There's the family member that doesn't talk to us anymore, the "BFF" that never makes contact, or the guy or girl who was "the one" and ended up being nothing to us. There's the teacher that we never get to talk to after the school year ends, the Facebook friend who won't even give you a passing glance in real life, and the childhood friends turned enemies.
     When relationships don't turn out to be what we expected of them, we're hurt. We feel betrayed by the person, as if they've done us some extreme disservice by not realizing how important they were in our lives. We imagine we can make them feel guilty for pulling away ("when I'm not around anymore he'll realize how much he needed me for sure! He'll be crawling back on his hands and knees. HA.") even though in the eyes of the other person there may not have been any solidly established relationship to pull away from (or to go crawling back to).
     The thing we (or at least I) never seem to consider is that maybe some people were never meant to stay. Maybe some people are sent into our lives to be what we need when we need it most, and then to fade out once we have the skills to cope on our own (even if we don't feel like we do). Maybe some people come into our lives just to make connections, to lead us to other people who are meant to stay a while.
     Maybe, just maybe, there's some higher power who knows a little bit more about what I really need than I do. And maybe I should start trusting that that power knows what He's doing a little more often, because looking back I haven't really been let down yet. Things have changed and people have left but never without making a mark on my life and contributing to who I am today.
     If everyone we met stayed in our lives forever, we'd never form a truly deep relationship with anyone. We couldn't possibly have time to. But maybe by giving parts of ourselves away, living and loving and getting hurt, we learn over time who is meant to go and who is meant to stay, and we grow a little bit along the way.
     Maybe we find that we never really needed anyone else at all.

Filled

     So this year I had four New Year's resolutions and I've already failed at three of them. The fourth is going okay though, for now. That one was to embrace new opportunities and try things I might not have tried before. Basically, I need to get out more. So today I fulfilled that by going to BOW (Breaking Open the Word) with a friend.
     For those of you who don't know (basically all of you), BOW is like a sort of Bible study where you go and listen to the gospel reading for the next weekend's mass, and you listen for a word that stands out to you (God speaking to you, if you will) and then you reflect on that word and how it fits into your life and how it can change your week in a concrete way.
     The reading for this week is this: The people were filled with expectation, and all were asking in their hearts whether John might be the Christ. John answered them all, saying, "I am baptizing you with water, but one mightier than I is coming. I am not worthy to loosen the thongs of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire." After all the people had been baptized and Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came down from heaven, "You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased." -Luke 3:15-16, 21-22
    Despite the request that we "cast off our worries and set this time aside for God" I was still panicking about the pile of homework I had to do, and I'll be the first to admit that I am awful at quietly listening and just letting God (or anyone else for that matter) speak to me. But after a while of trying my best not to force myself onto a word the word that came to me was "filled." And I was like, "filled"? What the heck does that even mean? I tried to come up with a logical explanation for my word but I just couldn't think of any reason God would look down at me and say "Filled." It didn't make sense.
     So I sat there for about 20 minutes while the others shared their words and the ways they felt God wanted those words to apply in their lives, and I tried my best to just let my mind relax. And suddenly there was a thought in my head. Empty. How have you felt the last couple days? Empty. How does it feel not to feel any emotions? Empty. What are your greatest fears in life? Darkness. Being alone. Emptiness. What's the opposite of empty?
     Filled.
     You can make whatever you want of that. I myself have had moments in which I was sure that in the back of my mind, I just found myself a word to answer the questions I was hiding. But whether you want to believe it was God, or just a fantastic trick of the mind, or complete balderdash, it's at the very least a pretty nifty coincidence. I haven't figured out yet exactly how I'm supposed to be "filled" this week but...I guess I'll fill you in on that bit later. For now, the lesson is that sometimes there's benefit to taking time out of our busy schedules to relax and just hear what's going on around us.
     God bless<3

A night divine, indeed.

"O holy night, the stars are brightly shining

It is the night of the dear Savior's birth.

Long lay the world, in sin and error pining

Til He appeared and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn

Fall on your knees! Oh hear the angel voices!

O night divine

O night when Christ was born

O night, o holy night, o night divine."

'Tis the season - the wreaths are up, the snow has (kind of) fallen, Santa's holding screaming children at the mall, and radio stations everywhere are blaring Christmas songs back to back to back. While this constant assault of Christmas music is the dread of music, it's one of my favorite parts of the holiday season. There are so many Christmas songs to love, and I frequently find myself declaring a new favorite every time the radio DJ switches tunes. 

This one though. It keeps popping up in my life and every time I find myself almost crying as I try to explain to people how much I love it. But here, you guys can't see if I'm crying or not. So I figured I'd try to pass on some of my excitement and Christmas joy and such. Since it's Christmas Eve and I feel like I haven't posted in forever.

So, to start at the beginning: O holy night - It's a HOLY night. All that reason for the season stuff that everyone preaches but no one really listens to. It's not just Christmas. Tonight is a holy night. The stars are brightly shining - I don't know where y'all are from, but down here in the Tiptonian boondocks around Christmastime, the stars are unbelievable. The cold makes the air clearer and on a cloudless night the view can be absolutely breathtaking. Now tonight, go look at those stars and think, those are the same stars that were shining the night Jesus was born. The very same ones the shepherds would've been watching as the traveled and everything. It's awesome. It is the night of the dear Savior's birth - again, with the night thing. Tonight. But I'm more intrigued by the phrase "the dear Savior"...someone so powerful and mighty, come to redeem humanity. But we don't speak of him in terms of awe and fear (not to say there's no respect) but rather in terms of endearment. Because when it came down to it, He was just a helpless, poor little baby. 

Long lay the world in sin and error pining - The world didn't just begin existing at Jesus' birth, although I often catch myself thinking that since that's when we start numbering years. The world was there, and it was full of sin and error (bad stuff). Pining, wasting away in all the awfulness...Til He appeared - and then this baby Jesus comes along and changes everything. And the soul felt its worth - our souls, the very essence of our being, didn't know their worth before He came. We were nothing (and are nothing) without Him.

All it took was A thrill of hope - A thrill. Not a spark or a hint or pinch of hope, but a thrill. Like looking into the eyes of a loved one or dropping down the first hill of a roller coaster or sky diving. Only a million times better. Because it's the thrill of the core of your very existence recognizing its purpose. Because it's Jesus. The weary world rejoices - and what a weary world we live in today. All the tragedy and sorrow and hurting, not just recently but always. There are people who don't feel joy at the Christmas season. There are people who don't feel joy ever. And two thousand years ago, there were all those weary people pining in sin and error. But at the birth of Christ the weary world REJOICED. For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn - Better things are coming. Tomorrow is a new day. The night of Jesus' birth was followed by a morning, a new day, a new age for mankind. And we're living in that glorious morn right now.

Fall on your knees! - Honestly if you haven't done that by now I don't know what else to say to you. It's such a powerful statement to put in the middle of a song like that. Rejoice, be glad, but be reverent - this is the savior of the world! I'm just so overcome by the image, the absolute surrender, of falling on your knees and just worshiping. Oh hear the angel voices - I don't even know which way to go with this. Right now, I'm feeling the fact that angels, who are supposed to be like mighty warriors, are going around spreading news of joy and singing praise to God. That's got to be the most perfect praise ever sung.

O night divine - Let me just remind everyone that the definition of divine is "Of, from, or like God". This night is divine...not like a bad retro movie star (think simply diviiiiine) but like the actual night of God himself. This is HIS time. It's the most serious night of the year and yet the most joyous. It's a wonderful paradox.

I don't know if you understand now. I don't even know if anyone will get the whole way through this. But that's my Christmas rant for the year. Have a blessed and wonderful Christmas and in the event that I'm too lazy to blog this week, a fantastic New Year. 

God bless<3

If Today Was My Last Day

     I'm really hoping today isn't my last day on Earth. I guess realistically, I hope that every day. But it is my hope today especially since tomorrow is supposed to be the end of the world.
     I've always hated being forced to consider what I would do if I knew I only had one day left. It's just depressing, and I'm no good at coming up with awesome ways to spend my final 24 hours. But in light of the possible apocalypse looming on the horizon, I'm going to try to work my way through this.
     If today was my last day, I think I'd be pretty satisfied with how I spent it. Sure, I didn't go out and do all the things I've always wanted to do and maybe I'll have to die without ever getting to sky dive or swim with dolphins. But really, what does that matter? I'm sure that from the unending bliss of Heaven I'm not going to look down and think, "Ya know, this is great, but I really wish I had been in the ocean in December with some squeaky creatures before I got here." It just doesn't seem likely.
     I think I'd look back and see that the way I actually spent my last day (and all the days leading up to it) was a pretty fitting summary of all the things that make me happy.
     I'm glad I graduated high school. I can't say I ever thought it would happen (it always seemed so unrealistically far away) but it did, and I survived it, and I'm proud of that. I'm grateful for all the people from Bellwood who changed me and made me who I am today.
     I'm glad I spent the last 3 months at a school I never would've dreamed of attending, making friendships and memories and good grades to boot. I'm glad I decided to come out of my shell and meet some new people before it was too late. I'm glad I chose to open myself up to more than the 2 people I've always talked to, and I'm really glad I got the chance to share my story with some people who might've needed to hear it.
     I'm glad I finally figured out in some ways who I am and what I want in life. I'm thankful for the people who helped me to do that. I can't say enough how much it means to me that there are people out there who truly care about others and want to make as many people truly happy as they can. I'm glad I got to see that.
     I'm glad I spent the last week in an Advent/Christmas fervor filled with cookie-baking and house-decorating and present-making. I've been more into preparations this year than ever before mostly because of all my time off, and it feels good to be doing work to get ready for Christmas. I feel like I've had more opportunities to make other people happy this Christmas season than in years past, and if that's true then I am glad.
     And finally, I'm pleased with how I spent my last day. A few errands to run, relaxing and crocheting and enjoying just being in my home. Talking to a friend. Learning someone else's story. Just quietly thinking about my own.
     I read something somewhere that said the Mayan calendars are only predicting the end of an era, the end of the world as we know it, but not necessarily the end of the world itself. That feels about right. It's been a heck of a journey over the last year, and even over the last (almost) 19 years, but this is the end of an era for me. If this is the last day of that journey, so be it. I can honestly say I am ready for the next one, whether it's to come in this world or the next.
     God bless<3

This blog and this song have both blessed my life.

You should definitely go check it out:
A Very Special Case.: It's been a helluva 2 years.: Here I am. 2 years later. Two years after the hell that was Case's  pre-birth. It's been two hard years. Two years full of blessings and te...

Everything Changes

     “I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.”
― Marilyn Monroe

      I have always firmly believed that change is bad. I made my mom drive all over town to find the same exact pair of sneakers I had grown out of when it was time for new shoes. I cried when we got new kitchen chairs. I left a note in our old couch so the new owners would know just how faithful and loving of a friend it could be, and out of respect for it I refused to sit on the new one for at least a few months after its arrival.
     This time of year is the worst time of year for change-haters like myself, especially college-aged ones. The weather is changing to desolate dreary cold, the year is about to change (assuming the world does not end in 10 days), my schedule has changed from classes every day to a huge test every day, and after this week all my classes will change. More broadly, the last few months have been a huge time of change - new home, new responsibilities, new friends, new opportunities, new church, new roommate. It's been crazy, to put it simply.
     Needless to say, I did not embrace all these changes with open arms, leaping from the comfort and safety of the home and routine I'd known for 18 years into a whole new world without reservation. I held myself back for a long time and tried to resist allowing myself to become anything different than I had always been. I clung to the past, my old mannerisms and beliefs and thought processes. I survived.
     But then I started to realize that although I was getting by okay, I was missing something. I wasn't positive what it was, but the appeal of studying alone in my room 8 hours a day was really starting to fade even though that's what I'd always done...was it possible the way I had always done things wasn't the best way to do them?
     I never consciously decided to change - it just kind of snuck up on me when I wasn't expecting it. One by one the familiar things in my life were snatched away, some forcibly and others I let go, and new things began to seep in. And slowly, I started to realize that maybe this wasn't so bad.
     Maybe sometimes the people in our life leave so someone else has room to teach us something different. Maybe there are things we're all supposed to learn in this life that we can't learn if we're too hung up on the comfortable and the familiar. Maybe the only way we can learn them is if the people we know step back and let us. Because maybe they have to learn something new as well.
     I can't say for sure who exactly was responsible for changing me into the person I am now. I can think of a few people, new and old, who definitely helped me figure out who I was and who I wanted to be, and I'm eternally grateful for their love and support even if they never realize how much they did for me.
     So if you're one of the new people in my life, welcome. Most of you have mentioned there are times when I seem truly happy, and you like those times. I'm trying to make that happen more often. The best I can promise you is a crazy awesome journey. If you're one of the people from my past, please don't think I'm saying goodbye. I'm not. I love you all so much and the fact that I'm casting off a lifestyle and thought pattern does not mean I'm casting off you. I'm not even sure that as a person I've really changed all that much. I'm still the same me as I was before. Just with a slightly different outlook on life. Some good things fell apart. Some better things are starting to fall together. Strange how such a small change can make such a big difference.

(Stylistically, it pains me to end two posts in a row with a YouTube video. But I can't resist this song.)

Angels Among Us

     When I was younger, I was the world's biggest believer in angels. I had a ceramic cross on my wall with a little angel figure kneeling at the center praying, and one of my earliest memories is my mother telling me "This is your guardian angel. If you say a prayer to her every night she'll always keep you safe." (That may or may not be an accurate memory, but I remember it that way.)
     I thought that was the coolest idea ever. I loved it. I constantly would strike up a (one-sided) conversation, literally whispering to the cross, reaching my guardian angel the best way I knew how. Any time I was in a scary situation I would picture an angel right there at my shoulder, and it was impossible to be scared. What could possibly get me that an angel from God himself couldn't stop?
     Then one day, through an unfortunate accident, I broke my cross.  I slept on the top bunk and one day when making my bed I tired of climbing up and down to retrieve each stuffed animal, so I stood on the floor and started throwing them haphazardly up to my mattress. Which was all well and good until I overshot a stuffed cat and hit the wall, sending my cross crashing to the ground where it broke into two pieces. Afraid to glue it and make it look stupid, I gave it to my mom to add to the stack of things that would get fixed "eventually."
     Everyone knows how the saying goes, out of sight, out of mind. For some reason, without that concrete reminder there to see every day, I forgot to believe in angels. (Ironic, for someone whose name literally means angel, "messenger from God"). I stopped saying the prayer and I lost that feeling of protection in scary moments. I was scared all the time. I was convinced my house was haunted, I was afraid to be in any room alone, I would panic at night at the slightest sound.
     And then the fear expanded. Not only was I afraid of being in concrete places alone, I was afraid of being without a friend, without someone who understood. And I felt like I always was. Like there was no one looking out for me, like I was always alone. All the confidence of my earlier years was gone, and I was afraid.
     That went on for so long that 2 weeks ago, I couldn't have even told you the last time I wasn't afraid of being alone. Then, out of nowhere, an amazing friend came into my life and changed the way I think about things. One of the biggest things he did was remind me that there are angels among us. Not pathetic, Cupid-esque babies with wings but mighty warriors sent by God to protect me from harm. We're constantly being watched over and protected. "For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways." - Psalm 91:11.
     How awesome is that?

       

If You're Happy and You Know It

     For as long as I can remember, I have always hated being happy. My favorite times of the year, Christmas and Thanksgiving, were also my happiest times of the year; and yet these beautiful days were tainted endlessly by the knowledge that eventually the day would be over, the food eaten, the cousins gone, and life back to its daily grind.
     For a few years I tried to resist the happiness. I would tell myself not to bother to get excited over these single days, because all too soon they would be gone. I approached Christmas with about as much excitement as I approached writing an essay - there might be a mildly enjoyable moment or two, but eventually the work would be done and it would be time to forget it all. Don't freak out. There's no point.
     If you know me (and especially if you've just recently gotten to know me) then it is needless to say that this was IMPOSSIBLE to keep up for long. I get far too excited about most things, and holidays are even more exciting than most things. So for the last few years, I've allowed myself to feel the incredible happiness and excitement. Not just on holidays, but on sunny days, snowy days, warm days, days I get to spend time with friends, days I'm super productive, days I spend relaxing, and so many other days.
    The problem with this happiness is that even though I'm allowing myself to feel it, it is still accompanied by the sadness of knowing the time is limited. I've been allowing the sadness to overcome the happiness. I've avoided situations that may cause happiness so that I don't have to face the sadness. I thought it was for the best.
     I was wrong. Avoiding happy situations didn't take the sadness away. It just made it a different kind of sadness. And that kind of sadness is even less bearable than the kind that comes from happiness, because at least the latter occurs when there are people around to pick me back up.
     Today I finally figured out something that I should have known from the start: Just because happy times have to end eventually isn't any reason to spend the whole time dreading what will come later. Because what will come, will come. And the only part I can control is what comes in between.

The Trouble With Men

UPDATE: If you don't know me, this post may not come off correctly. I am not a feminist and I do not think men are awful. Sarcasm, people.
     I am a raging feminist, and I hate men because they are all pigs. All they ever do is objectify us and reduce us from people to a means of getting sex, and as a result women spend all their time applying makeup and choosing outfits and dieting and exercising and hating ourselves. Women are so oppressed these days. There's nowhere we can look for a positive role model to show we don't have to be the skinniest, prettiest, most perfect girl ever to be loved. It's deplorable, really. Because men have it so easy.
     I mean, I'm sure none of them ever doubt themselves, because women would certainly never do the same thing to men that men do to women, making them feel like they have to fit a certain image to be lovable. After all, I know for a fact that all the females in this country want to marry Channing Tatum because they've personally gotten to know him and have determined that his personality is compatible with theirs. It's preposterous to suggest that a woman, who knows the feeling of objectification, would think for a second that being physically attractive is the only quality that matters in a man.
     And can we talk about advertising for a second? Because it seems to me like every company is using clothing on women to sell their product, with absolutely no regard for the way these women are being turned into objects. Meanwhile, the men get away scot-free. I'm sure I speak for all women when I state my disdain at the interruption of the Super Bowl by the appearance of a soccer player. Not only was this man not of the right sport, I wasted valuable time watching his commercial several times before I actually figured out what they were selling. And then when I did figure it out, I was angered again - I am not the target audience for men's underwear, and there was no other reason to spend so much time watching it besides having an interest in the product. Because women don't view men as objects purely for visual gratification.
     There are no real women anywhere in the media, and no one ever bothers to promote people who don't look like supermodels. No one ever tells real women they are beautiful. Meanwhile, real men are everywhere in the media. Every guy walking down the street should just automatically know that he is perfect, without anyone ever having to tell him. It's not a man's job to need reassurance. It's a man's job to tell a woman she's beautiful. But not in such a way as to make her feel that beauty is the only thing that matters, because men also need to reinforce that what's truly beautiful is what's on the inside. Without accidentally implying that the outside is not beautiful also.
     So basically, there is a war on women going on in the advertising world and the world at large. Women are under constant pressure to be perfect in every way. Everywhere you turn there's another commercial, another ad, another spread in a magazine showing us how we should look and act at all times. The trouble with men is, they just can't understand what it's like.
     
    

Words I Need to Say

UPDATE: Okay, I admit, I've had this written for a while, but I got the idea to publish it from here. My sincerest apologies for copying!
I generally try not to publish stuff like this, because I feel like it's not relatable and ramblings about why I love the people I love aren't something the general population wants to read. However, there are a lot of things I want to say to some people, and I want everyone to know how awesome you all are, so this is the best venue I can think of. For the most part I avoided calling people out by name in case you're embarrassed by this. So, I guess, sorry in advance for the longness and mushiness and general suckishness of this post. But I wrote it all out so I'm posting it now, for better or for worse.

To the survivors of the Taylor experiment: What can I even say, beyond thank God we made it out alive? All kidding aside, it was a wild ride. Twelve years long for some of us, and I cherish every second. Adam - To this day I can't look at a marigold without calling it Zaffaffania. And I'll bet you don't even know why at this point. I know we had our bad days, but thank you for (almost) always making me laugh. David - Boy do I miss getting to talk to you in Mrs. P's room once a week last year. I don't know if you knew it or not but you kept me sane most of the year. Super Siah - Gotta admit, I thought you hated me for a long time. But after I got over that I found out you're actually extremely awesome and I'm really glad I got a chance to get to know you. Michael - After all these years, I think I am finally comfortable admitting that in third grade, your baseball sand shelter was way more effective than mine and prettier too. You win. Morgan - I don't know why we didn't become friends earlier! I missed out dude. We definitely should've united before high school. Regardless, I'm glad I had one female ally in that group. We may have been outnumbered but we were still the most influential part of that group most of the time. I miss your seeing your beautiful face all the time and having lima beans shoved in my ears and being able to talk to you every day. Luckily we're the same person so I know we'll end up together again eventually and I know you'll always be there to talk if I need you. (And to Mariah and Liza, who sadly did not survive the Taylor experiment - I still feel blessed to have met and gotten to know you, if only for a little while. I hope you're both doing well, wherever you are. Probably a model and a concert pianist at this point.)

1: There are very few people to whom I can say, "I remember how we met," but I remember every detail of meeting you. It was kind of a weird way to meet a best friend (both in ways I knew then and ways I found out later) but I'm unendingly thankful that it happened. You have had my back through so many situations in which you had no obligation to do anything and you've saved me from a million things, from boredom to unnecessary anxiety to my very self. I think the thing I'll always remember is the day before graduation, just walking around Bellwood running errands and sitting on the playground reminiscing. I don't know if you knew how much I needed that time with a friend at the moment, but it meant the world to me. I feel like I've known you way longer than 2 years. Thank you so much for being an amazing friend even when I don't deserve it.

2: You stress out too much, kid. I know you feel a lot of pressure but the honest truth is you are under no obligation to be me. Yeah, I've been an overachiever my whole life. It's not all it's cracked up to be. Honestly the biggest thing I've learned from college so far is that there's way more to life than getting a great SAT score. Lots of people can do that. Very, very few people know who they are and what they want in life. I think you have a better grasp on who you are than most people I've encountered in my life. Relax. No matter what happens, you're going big places.

3: Some people assume you're the same as me. Some people think you're the polar opposite. Both sets of people make a huge mistake. You are a unique person who happens to have the unfortunate position of being the youngest sibling. But you're going to set the world on fire someday. You're smart, artistic, and personable, a triple threat, and unlike everyone else in our family you aren't going to have stress ulcers by the time you're 21. Don't sell yourself short. Sometimes I think you understand life better than any of us.

4: It's true to say you're my newest friend but it really doesn't feel like I've only known you a couple weeks. I gotta admit, my first impression of you was that we were polar opposites and I would never be able to talk to you. You were intentionally throwing yourself into the spotlight while I was trying desperately to hide in the shadows, and people ate it up. They loved you. I wish I could remember what I wrote for your mailbox, because I don't think I wrote what I was really thinking (that I was totally jealous of how comfortable you were in crowds). I didn't think I would ever be getting to know you. Turns out I couldn't have been more wrong because now you're one of my best friends. And you're bringing me out of my shell a little bit, which people say is a good thing. Thank you for always being there even when I'm being excessively needy and making me do things I don't want to do so I can learn that they are good. Thank you for making me feel included and comfortable. Thank you for always doing the stuff I tell you not to do. Your capacity to love is astonishing and will get you through anything life throws at you. Please never lose it.

5: I know for a fact you don't usually read this, so I don't expect you to ever see this. That's fine, I'm still gonna say it. I have literally known you for as long as I can remember. There have been better times and worse but I have to say that I think I knew how special you were all along. We've literally been through hell together and I'm incredibly glad we're here on the other side, still together and in one piece. If I could push a button to make you believe in yourself and be happy, I would push it in a heartbeat. But until such a button exists, you're just going to have to figure those things out for yourself. I believe you can do it. Know that you are wonderful and loved, and no matter how many times it gets bad I'll be here to pull you through, because the good times are worth it.

6: I did a stupid thing by saying we were probably never going to be friends again like we used to be. At the time I was frustrated and tired of missing something I didn't think I was ever going to get back. I regret that now, although I doubt it still matters to you. If you ever need anything, know that I'll always have your back. Love you Scottie<3

Love Grows

    "Until you love yourself, you can't love anyone else." People have been telling me this, and variations on it, for as long as I can remember. And yet somehow, I've been tuning them out for over a decade (because obviously, I always know best) and thinking I can get along just fine without giving myself a thought. What do I need to love myself for? I love everyone else. I'd give anything for my friends. If I took the time to love myself I wouldn't have the time to give them, wouldn't be able to relate to their feelings as well. I would just spend all my time talking about how awesome I am.
    But recently I'm realizing more and more that those adults in my life who gave me advice actually knew what they were talking about (shocker, right?) and I should really listen to them. Because if I tell you that you are beautiful, then turn around in the same breath and put myself down, what am I really saying to you? That it's okay for me to have these thoughts but not for you? That nothing I say is actually worth believing, because I don't even believe it myself?
     Even deeper than not being trustworthy, how can I expect to understand you and your feelings if I don't even understand me and my own feelings? It isn't possible. And until I understand you, until I truly appreciate what you're feeling and going through, I can't really love you.
     So if my ultimate goal is to love, and I can't do that until I learn to love, how do I go about achieving success? Ironically, it seems that it isn't actually possible to do one without the other. I can't love others until I love myself. But through loving others and allowing them to love me, I'm learning to love myself more effectively than I think I ever could in isolation.
     Maybe that's the secret to all of it. Love can't exist in isolation. But through reaching out to others and showing them our love, we learn a little about our own strengths and weaknesses, our own values and beliefs. We see that there are people out there who want and need our love, and that validates us. We realize that their are people who want to love us. They have reasons to love us, usually good ones, and those also give us reasons to love ourselves. And little by little we start to understand. We start to love.

Double Plus Goodfeel

     Happy New Year! Yep, it's that time of year again. The liturgical new year, that is, and my very favorite liturgical season - Advent! A time of waiting and preparation for the coming of the Lord. A time to make all things new and share God's love and rejoice in his birth.
     Every year around this time I become absolutely overwhelmed with what I can only call pre-Christmas spirit. I transform from my traditionally quiet self into a bubbly, bursting with joy philanthropic mess. And with no outlet for my surplus of happiness, I end up conducting Mannheim Steamroller Christmas concerts on YouTube with excessive vigor and laughing in situations where laughter is not appropriate, just to dispel some of the good feelings before they make me explode.
     This year, I thought maybe I'd try for something more productive during Advent. This is where all the lovely people who read this blog come in. You're all wonderfully creative and good beautiful people, so give me a hand. If you've got a fantastic idea for community service or random acts of kindness or any other way to share love and joy this season, clue me in. I'm glad for all the help I can get. No idea too small.
     So hit me with your best shot! I'm pumped to figure out some stuff to do with all this excitement (besides being embarrassingly giddy all the time, which will probably still happen anyway). A very happy new year to all of you, and God bless.

Eye Contact

     So first of all, readers, if you haven't read this yet it's fantastic and you should check it out. At the very least you should read this before you go any further because it was the inspiration for this post and a little background is never a bad thing.
     That's about all the introduction I have for this really. If you read the background this will probably speak for itself. If you didn't...sorry. Although if you read regularly you're probably pretty used to being hit with random poetry by now. I don't have much else to say besides:

"Eye Contact"

What an odd concept to consider.
eye contact-
holding another with your eyes
when arms won't suffice.
Contact - touching
And to think, we all have contacts
not just contact lenses (which touch the eye)
but contact eyes (which touch the heart)
...touch the soul.
Maybe that's why we struggle
to hold a gaze (contact, a touch)
We're afraid to be embraced in body
let alone in spirit
by those we're unsure of.
And yet we do - sometimes - make eye contact
What a powerful, awesome deed -
How strange to think
we touch with our eyes
the things we merely see.

God bless<3

Biology Notes

     So today in Biology I learned that insects have a hard outer shell called an exoskeleton; a suit of armor of a set size that they grow to fill completely and then stop growing (I think...but I was actually scribbling this post on my notes during class so I can't be sure). That's why you don't see obese bugs running around - they have a limit. They can only get so big.
     I've felt a lot like an insect lately. I've been running around frantically trying to fill myself up. Not just with food, but also faith, love, hope, and the ability to help others. I took the persona I've been creating for four strong years, the emotionally apathetic, academically over-productive, chronically high-strung, stressed out timid self, and tried to transform her into an icon of love, a beacon of faith and hope and morality and strength, a landing site for hurting souls. And I tried to do it almost literally overnight.
     Quite obviously, I hit a point at which I realized I wasn't the awesome saint-like influence that I wanted to be, and I became frustrated. I was putting so much energy into myself but I wasn't getting any bigger. I'd filled the shell I'd built for myself years ago, and there was nowhere for any new substance to go.
     The thing about insects, though, is that although each stage of their lives involves a certain set size they don't stay in that stage of life forever. Insects (because of pathways and hormones and factors that I actually did write down at this point) molt. They shed the shell they've been inhabiting in favor of a new, slightly larger one that allows for more growth. And slowly, stage by stage, they grow into the adult they're meant to be. Not all at once. In stages. Like so:

     My life span is, thankfully, much longer than that of an insect, so maybe that means my growth stages are longer too. And maybe, just maybe, I'm finally reaching the end of one. Maybe I'm getting a chance now to build again, to grow again, to make changes.
     Maybe I'm molting.
    

On Lessons Learned

     What is it about this time of year that makes everyone all reflective and wanting to change? Is it the cold, the isolation, the grind of school work setting in? There's something that makes the Thanksgiving/Christmas season the season of looking back at where we've been and trying to figure out where we're going, and I'm no more immune to it than the next person...I'm just more prone to write about it.
     It's hard to look back on where I was a year ago today and believe that I am the same person now as I was then...and in a lot of ways I would contest that I am not actually the same Angela as I was 365 days ago. That Angela feels in a weird way like she is a day and a decade away at the same time. It's actually difficult to think backwards and chronologically remember everything that has happened between now and last November, but there are some general impressions I have of this year and some big lessons I learned.     A lot of what happened over the last year is part of a long story, a story of a lifetime of joy and hurt and confusion. The story isn't all mine to share, so I won't share it, but I can summarize: you never know who is hurting on the inside. Often, it's not the people you would suspect. And often, there's not much you can actually do to fix it. Or at least, there's nothing you can do if you have a set preconception of what exactly "fixed" looks like.
     Although the story isn't mine, I think I have exclusive rights to the lessons I learned from it and can share those. The biggest thing for me was this: Trust in God. Sometimes, there are situations in which you personally are powerless. Those situations are the scariest, because all most of us really want in life is to have control over what's happening to us. But that can't always be. Sometimes, you just have to say a little prayer and give the situation over to God to make what He can of it. You might be surprised by how well he can handle it.
     Another thing I learned is to accept life's challenges and focus on beating them - don't waste energy trying to deny what's in front of you. Nothing is going to change just by you denying it exists, so don't bother trying to pretend a situation that's right in front of you isn't there. Act on it. Never wait to do what's right. There is no guarantee you'll have a second chance if you pass this one up.
     Love intensely and unconditionally. Because why not? Contrary to popular belief it is not possible to love too much. How could you possibly put too much of something as good as love into this world? There is always someone out there looking for some love, and you could always be the one to give it. Earth would be a pretty dull place if no one ever loved anyone. Love your spouse. Love your siblings. Love your parents, your grandparents, your aunts and uncles and estranged random relatives. But also love your cashier at the grocery store. Love your mailman. Love your bus driver, your 8AM professor, and the cleaning lady in your building. Love the person opposite the intersection from you. Love yourself, really love yourself; love yourself as well as you love everyone else. Love them all as much as you can, and then love them more. For it is in giving, that we receive.
     Most importantly, never, ever, EVER give up. Even when it seems like you've lost the war. Because you never know which battle will be your last until you've won it and survived past it, and just doing that takes so much. Because God gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers. Because you'd be surprised how much you have in you when you really try. Because even when you're at your lowest point, God is still above all things just waiting to stand you back up. Because nothing worth having comes easy. And because some of the best people in our lives are sent to help us through our worst times.

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1:9)

The Thanks

     This Thanksgiving, I spent a lot of time considering how I could give thanks. Normally that would have resulted in a lengthy, mushy post about how much I love everyone in my life, but I seem to have taken care of that with my over-tagged Facebook status yesterday. So today I thought I'd mix it up and give you all some advice on expressing gratitude in one of the most confusing situations I've encountered to date: walking through a door at the same time as someone else. These questions have plagued mankind since the dawn of time, or at least since the dawn of buildings.

At what point in a series of doors do you thank the person in front of you? 

     This is a tricky situation that does not have a simple answer. Many other factors must be taken into consideration when determining how exactly to give thanks in this situation:
     - How much space is between the doors?
     It seems that college campuses were constructed specifically to present this challenging question. In some buildings, doors are so close together that it is physically impossible to go the whole way through one door without opening the next one. With multiple doors coming at you within seconds of each other, it can be difficult to know at what point you should thank the kind soul navigating the pathway before you. I've found it most effective to begin with a full "thank you" after entering the first doorway, and then offer an abridged "thanks" or just a nod and smile at each subsequent door.
     If however the doors are far enough apart that several steps are required to get from one door to the next, a full thank you may be in order at each doorway. Try to gauge how annoyed the door-holder is getting with saying "you're welcome" and base your decisions off of this data.
     -What if they turn around after each door to look at you?
     Turners always seem to be expecting something, and people like me feel as though we're disappointing them by not offering a fully grateful "thank you" after every door hold. If you're following a turner, give full appreciation for each door regardless of which category above the series fits into.
     -Was it a full door hold or a half-out-the-door, stick a single finger back to slow the slamming of the door afterthought?
     A full door hold deserves gratitude under any circumstances, especially if the holder stopped walking completely to hold the door while you caught up. Extra appreciation is necessary if it is cold, raining, or the door leads to somewhere you have to wait in line and the person has sacrificed their place in it to let you in.
     An afterthought hold depends on the circumstance. If the person was bopping along listening to an iPod and intentionally tuning out your cries as you raced for the door with your arms full of kittens and 2x4s and other various debris, he or she deserves a stern look. If however the person was just walking along when they glanced back at the last second and noticed the door closing in your face, a terse nod at least is appropriate.
      - Did they actually open every door in the series, or simply hold the first one and then leave you trapped awkwardly between the two doors?
      I'm not sure why people do this. These people won't even notice if you thanked them or not, because they're already several steps away on the other side of a wall. You may mumble anything you like in this situation.
     Bonus!!!
      Just for you guys, because I love you, I'm adding a bonus section of other gratitude questions.
If someone is cleaning a window or other area on or near the door and stops to allow me to pass, do I thank them or apologize? 
     I always apologize in this situation, because I just feel bad. But thanks also seem appropriate. All I can really recommend is that you avoid this situation at all costs, possibly by untying and retying your shoe multiple times or making an unnecessary stop in the bathroom.
What do I do if I'm a male and the female holds the door open for me? 
    Put aside your sexist preconceptions and thank her. (Although I gotta say, it really gets me when guys insist on holding the door.)
Do I thank the professor for handing me a stack of homework?
     Of course. Brownie points never hurt anyone but those who don't have them.
What do I do if I'm so accustomed to thanking everyone for everything that I accidentally thank the person I held the door for? 
     This is a problem created by our excessively etiquette-centered society that I don't have an answer to. However I must say that at this point, I don't think anyone would really notice if you thanked them at an inappropriate moment. They'll probably assume they did something for which thanks were in order and just accept it.

There you go.

     Now you probably know the answer to every thanking question you ever had. I'd bet on it. Gratitude is not just for Thanksgiving day. (Thanks for reading this!) Go forth and give thanks.