Being "That Girl"

I've got a lot of thoughts and not a lot of sense. I'm navigating this weird place called the 20s where your heart hurts and brain swells and your friends come and go. Where you're pushed and you're pulled and folks start expecting you to just get it together, already. A place where I've realize I know a lot about love and nothing about it at all. Where inspiring and independent Pinterest quotes decorate my Instagram but my insecurities question if I come on too strong - all those feelings and passions and urges can get the best of you.  

This post isn't about making sense of what's going on in the Big World or my own little world. This is about getting words on a page and offering up the woman I am today - the flawed, messy, sometimes sad but mostly happy, occasionally emotionally volatile, passionate, confused, confident, and purpose-seeking human being that sits on the other side of this screen. Because there aren't rules for this life, but I know it's worth living. And right now, I'm shooting for the best attempt at doing it unashamed. 

So here we go. Welcome to crevices of this dusty, mixed-up soul.

My heart often feels like it's bursting. I'm a true feeler through and through, that's no secret. And lately I've been walking around with this heart that I actually feel. I'm not certain if it's growing or if I'm just realizing it with all its power but its a dictator and lately it's been rocking my world. 

I've found it's easy to relegate matters of the heart to the periphery. To take all the little things that make your heart beat and push them to the side or into a box, for safe-keeping and self-preservation. I've never been good at that.  I'm a lover and a fighter and my heart rules my world. And despite being burned and broken, it keeps coming back for more.

You know that surge of passion? You know what I'm talking about. When you stumble upon a grand something that makes your heart ache and propels you into action and gives you the courage to do all the things you've wanted to do and puts a fire in you to stand in front of a crowd and profess your commitment to that thing or idea or person? 

That. I feel that all the time. For people and ideas and movements and causes and sunsets and smiles and laughter and hope. And the battle between my heart and my head has never been more intense than now.

You see, my hearts pumps for people and desires to reveal the magic that sits within each one of us. I'm stumbling around scratching at something that I think is might be purpose and looks a lot like love. I see and read things every day that make me feel some kind of way and the fog surrounding the reason I'm on this planet in this moment is starting to lift but the path is still a mystery.

I ask the deep questions. I am unafraid of baring my soul and beg to see yours. I want to know the moments you hold dearest and the deepest fears you keep under lock and key.  But that... that stuff is scary. It's dangerous. And it pushes people away. So I keep this fundamental element of my being hidden from most, but in the spirit of vulnerability and authenticity it is time to lay it out on the table. On this path to self-discovery and intentionality, I have recognized a strangeness in myself that I don't often reveal to those except trusted others. Fueled by the matters of my heart, I've got an irrational willingness to respond to the tugs of my heartstrings and jump in head first to nearly everything.  

I respond as a willing servant to the beating organ in my chest, following through on the promptings to say and do whatever it calls for, and to go wherever it may beckon. I often feel a very real and somatic pressure on my lungs, creating a pressure that makes it hard to breathe until I do the thing my heart demands. I recognize how bizarre it is to nearly always follow your heart's promptings and what a strange, intense, whimsical way it is to live - with such dedication to an organ that so often brings us pain and hurt and sorrow when all we truly desire is to be known and loved.

Often, I wish I was different. That I wasn't such a slave to the promptings and that being combative or resistant to them didn't make matters worse. Raising my little fists toward the sky in rage, I've been banging down God's door demanding answers. What do you want from me? Why do you keep breaking my heart? Why did you create me to be THAT GIRL, the one with all the feelings and the depth of heart and the soul that longs to scratch more than surface of another? Every. Damn. Day.

Despite the very real heart swells that inevitably end in the valley of disappointment and loneliness (which always seem to bounce back with luster into another swell), I think the challenge of loving too much and feeling a sincere passion for the souls of the world is the best one to have. I don't have much of an answer for the direction of my life, much less how I'm going to navigate a world where we are taught to think with our heads and shut down our irrational and irresponsible hearts. However, I'm choosing to be the unconventional protagonist of my own tale and while its ambitious, I've got a plan. 

A plan to risk more than is required to love as many people as I can with abandon despite knowing the fault lines of my heart will be rattled more than once. I choose to release mediocrity and embrace mastery. To be as kind and generous and genuine as possible and to express gratitude at all times. To find beauty in the oddities and imperfections. To learn more than is normal in order to scatter light and send darkness running.  To question everything and to explore with a spirit of optimism. To inspire others to see their value and worth and to know they are enough. To be strong and confident and brave in order to be a warrior for those who need one. To use this life, the only one I've got, to be a force of love and compassion and hope. 

And while my goals are zealous, I have no doubt, that if nothing else, they will lead to creating a life of something worth sharing. I've got a white-hot passion for many things this life offers, and living lukewarm is a non-option. So from here, I choose to take on the task of becoming myself, that girl with the wild untamed heart, and to hold back not a single thing. Because I believe when you stop fighting who you are and what you're made of, you get to become the person you're meant to be. And the becoming is the very best part.

It Doesn't Get Better

I've been wanting to write things down. To get it on the screen. But my brain has been jumbled and things don't come out right when you're in the midst of figuring out who you are and what your life means. You see, lately it's been rough. It's been really, really rough. And through the pain and the hurt and the frustration of it all I've come to know so much more about myself.

I'm realizing that not everything gets to be fixed. Hearts get broken and the brokenness never allows for all the pieces to settle back the way they were before. Mistakes happen and you hurt others and you hurt yourself and you learn to love yourself through the process and sometimes you're lucky enough to be forgiven by the others you've hurt along the way, too. This is the struggle of growing up and becoming who you really are. At some point you realize that you don't get the chance to mend everything and some things are better left shattered than a half-hearted attempted to paste it back together. 

I've been a little bit beat down lately and I think it's because life decided it's got a lesson to teach. And that's the thing about life - it demands to teach and it won't let up it til it does. If you're like me, you get your heart broken. You get pushed around for a while, shoves on all sides, and despite trying not to, you break down and cry. You might cry a lot about a lot of little things or just one big thing. You sit in your room and you let the tears stream down because you're tired of the pep talks and brushing yourself off only to trip and bloody your hands again. I've been mending wounds only to rub salt in them for a while now.  

But through the very real pain and honest, heart-wrenching, this-sucks-so-bad kind of hurt I'm starting to pick up what life is putting down. On those really crappy days where you doubt your self worth and why we're all in this place where we love one another only to hurt each other just to try and pull ourselves back together again - you end up digging way deep deep down to find the courage to keep on going. 

The mountain range of challenges that sit up on the horizon - they exist to show you the potential for all the things you ever wanted. Looking up at the peaks from the valley is scary. Your ankles shake in your boots and you think to yourself, "This is never going to happen for me."

But with the unconditional love of others and a spark that one day decides to settle in untamed, when you're ready to put one foot in front of the other again to begin the steep climb, when you start to believe that you might have a real shot at it - and I mean actually look in the mirror and see the fighter and the overcomer that you are - you get the chance to take the path less traveled. Find your fire and blaze the road to the story of your life and when you get on the rocky, narrow trail just keep going and don't look back. 

Don't waste your time longing for those who don't long for you. Don't fret about the things you will not and cannot change. Stop the self-shaming and the guilt trips and the fear of living a life of purpose with your name smacked right out front in brilliant Broadway lights.

"Don't worry, it gets better" is the biggest cop-out I've ever heard. Because it doesn't get better. It's the lie we've repeated for so long because it allows us to resign the ownership of our lives and fate over to the hands of the universe. I'm here to let you in on the secret and put the truth right in your pretty little lap: IT doesn't get  better. All the things that hold you back and bring you to the breaking point don't cease to exist and they don't magically get better. People will continue to hurt you. The ghosts and the fear and the doubt will creep in at night. The people you love the most will let you down. You don't get a hero to save you. Something much more magnificent happens. With the mess and the time and the sitting in the brokenness and sorrow of things you loved and lost you discover a strength and a will. It doesn't get better. 

You get better.

You learn that a half broken heart is still broken. That your once-best-friends are strangers now. That people lie and cheat and steal. That you will continue to make mistakes and create the messiest of messes. And you get to feel the searing pain of rejection and anger and sadness and everything else that brings you to your knees. That immense suffering demands to be felt. 

I feel it, too. I sat alone in the silence of my car last night with lights off and the quiet only found in apartment parking lots at 11pm and the voice of Christina Perri telling me that you're only human and you bleed when you fall down. The ache that you feel today, the utter pain and confusion and chaos, is all for a reason. The trials of today are here and they may be here to stay.

But that strength inside you will wake you up with anticipation of the peaks to climb because whether you want to or not everyday you get the chance to try - to try to do the best you can with what you've got again and again and again. I believe you hold an incredible power. There is braveness in those bones that harbors the soul within. You are the most special of humans and your story was made to be one of legend. This world is beating down your door with white noise and chaos to distract you from discovering the reason you exist in this moment in this place. It's in the overwhelming anxiety and the can't-do-it-ness that you've got to shut down and instead listen to that slow and steady rhythm of breath leaving your body and put a hand to your chest to feel the never-ceasing pulse of your heart working away. 

Do it now. 
Sit there. 
Listen. 
Feel it.

Hear that? Feel that? That's purpose. You, my brightest and dearest darling, are going to be ok. You are going to be more than ok. Because YOU get better. And stronger. And that little heart of yours will keep pumping purpose into those bones. I believe the fact that you are still in the world - broken and hurt and all - means there is plenty of good yet to come. 

Chin up, buttercup. Your mountains are calling.

Dear Ex-Best-Friend

One day it will happen and you'll realize. When your eyes, so often shut or turned away, are opened to the truth of today. A truth that says, "Your life is what you make it. And you're making it with the people surrounding you now. And the others, your friends from before ... they're doing their own thing without you. And you them." The little voice of truth whispered this into my ear recently at the wedding of one of my closest friends. 

She and her husband were surrounded by friends from near and far on their wedding day, as many are. But what stood out to me was the significant presence of their friends from home - the hometown high school crew who turned out in droves to support their marriage and reaffirm a commitment to friendship. There I was, standing next to her on her wedding day as she vowed her life to another, a place I once thought I would stand for so many others. And it smacked me, as these things often do, and I realized that my life is different. And my people are different.

And that things just sometimes change.


My guy friends and gal pals from high school are truly gems - beautiful people with beautiful souls and I can't look back on those days without crediting them with so much of my happiness during those few short years. The best memories from those times are with people whose relationships didn't last the post-graduation frenzy. It's a strange phenomenon to lose the people who once helped you define what life was - back when it was Friday night football games, AP Biology tests, and prom dates. As the little train of life chugs on, we often lose the people who were once so very important to us and in doing so we lose a little part of ourselves, too. A part that once was made of pieces of them.

Back then, we made plans. With friendship bracelets and pinky promises to all be bridesmaids in each others' weddings... you just think you're going to be friends forever because how could life be any different? Those friends were all I'd ever known. You start to see how life happens and time happens and friendships slowly dissipate to nothingness because you move out and you move away and you move on. Sometimes you let it fall apart because of a silly fight or (likely more often) you both just stop putting in the effort because you're surrounded with the love and support of new and wonderful people. Sometimes nothing is broken, but you just drift apart. You check the "irreconcilable difference" box on the friendship-break-up sheet and you pack your stuff and you don't look back.

I don't think about it much. But more and more big life moments are happening in the lives of people I once-upon-a-time thought I could never live without. Engagements and marriages to people I've never met. Babies and cross-country moves. Thanks to a little creation called Facebook, I can actually watch you living a life without me in it. And I'm happy for you, I am so very very happy for you. But it's in these moments when I wonder what it would be like if we were celebrating together, as we had always planned. As opposed to reducing what we once held dear to liking a Facebook update or (if you're extra lucky) sending a quick text message. But then I get back to the everyday grind and hop on that little train taking me in the direction of my life.

To my once-friends, - those forever-in-my-heart people - this is to you. And the season of life we lived out together. And the future you've built for yourself. I'm sorry I wasn't there for the big stuff. I'm sorry I don't know your fiancé and his family or what your ring looks like in person. I'm sorry I don't know your baby's name and I'm sorry I didn't pick up the phone to call you and say congratulations. I'm sorry we both let the friendship we had just drift away. And since I'm likely to keep missing out, this message is for you - especially a girl I once knew who is now a woman - my once-best-friend-turned-stranger:

So much is happening, the future is exciting and big things are rumbling. I'm happy and I hope you are, too. I hope you meet the partner of your dreams (if that's what you want) and that you are living the life you imagined for yourself. I hope you find a way to absorb the joy in every day - with a career, with a family, with a dog, or with the mere sunshine on your face and the beauty that comes from being alive and well. I hope you are well, but we both know I have no idea how you are. 

I'm thankful for the time we shared. For the sleepovers and midnight phone calls. For the skinny dipping. For the hours of laughter and Dateline on Friday nights. For the after-prom parties and frozen pizzas. For introducing me to wonderful people and to awful people. For standing up to the Mean Girls when they picked on me. For taking the blame when I spilled red nail polish in Mom's new van on the 4th of July. For the dorm room dance parties. For not getting mad when I locked us out of your house in the rain. For being one of the five phone numbers I had memorized in middle school. For being my brother's confirmation sponsor. For bringing me chocolate when I was broken up with. For cutting up his t-shirt in the name of revenge. For learning to drive together. For being in the car when I backed up into a stop sign. For the Target runs. For the combined birthday parties at Joe's Crab Shack. For the birthday cupcakes from Schuler's and the handwritten cards. For the friendship love letters. 

So much of who I am is because of you.

I thought we were the life-long-forever kind of friends. We had plans to sit on front porches in rocking chairs and adopt all the dogs in the world who need love. We planned Maid-of-Honor speeches and imaginary bachelorette parties. We ran around our little town with the windows down and the music turned up because I didn't have air and you didn't care. We lived a good life, you and I. I would do it all again. Thank you for being you in all the little moments and especially in the big ones.

You knew me better than anyone, and I will never ever forget you. It would be the impossible task of forgetting part of myself.

I'm sorry if I wasn't as supportive as I should have been. I'm sorry something got in the way of whatever we had. I'm sorry I just didn't get who you wanted to become and that I have no idea who you are today. I wish you the best - in your career, in your personal life, and in whatever is important to you these days. I hope you have a life filled with everything you dream of. A long long time ago you planted a spark in me, a spark of independence and the determination to do whatever the hell you want. Thank you for that - for being the first to push me out of my comfort zone and into the world.  

I will always carry a little bit of sadness that somewhere along the way we lost each other. We let life hurl us in different directions and we don't share a single thing anymore. And I doubt you'll ever read this, but if you someday stumble upon it please know that I wish you happiness. I wish you love. I wish you the kind of friendship we always wanted but didn't have - the kind that lasts a lifetime. And though we will likely never see one another again, I will forever be thankful for the girl that you were and I will always love her.

xo,
S.

Say what you need to say.

"I'm in love with you, and I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. 

I'm in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, that oblivion is inevitable, and that we're all doomed and there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will swallow the only earth we'll ever have, and I am in love with you."

Augustus Waters. 
The Fault in Our Stars (John Green)

I'm not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things either, Augustus. And I think that's why when I read The Fault in Our Stars, this line blew up the page. My eyes skimmed it once, twice, ten times. How often do we deny ourselves the pleasure of saying true things in the name of fear? 

I am that person, you are that person. The one who fears rejection and uncertainty and imperfection. I continue to struggle in the battles of self-worth, accepting love from others, and presenting the truest and most authentic version of myself. But I fight the good fight every day. I don't win all the time - and neither will you. We are in this messy, muddy, one-day-at-a-time thing called life together. Putting yourself out there for the world to see, to judge, to nitpick and throw their nose up at - I am convinced it is the most difficult thing to do. But it is also the most rewarding.

We all live life with things unsaid. Actions we wish we would have taken. We all harbor alternate lives that have gone unlived because we chose to stay in the safe zone. There are regrets in life and we don't get take-backs or redos. You can't change what has (not) been done. But you can choose to be brave. You can choose to say the words that come to your mouth and are bursting from your seams. You know what I mean. The "don't do it", the "I'm so sorry", the "I love you".

I try to embrace straightforwardness. Saying the tough stuff. There's an uneasiness that bubbles in my stomach and a tightness that swells in my chest when something feels unresolved and there are words still left to thrust into the void of space and time and life between you and me. Putting your heart and soul out on the table - handing the pieces of you on a silver platter over to someone who could readily squash it with hammer in hand - GAH it's frightening. 

But there is a thriving that happens when telling someone: "You are wonderful." "You are beautiful." "You mean the world to me." "You are a good person." And even sometimes: "That really hurt me." "I can't do this." "Stop." I want to live my life with truth on my lips.

I wish I had some dramatic tale of love and loss or a moment of realization - the "Aha! I finally understand and my life is forever changed" kind of story to tell you. But that's not really the way it all works. You live your life, you have regrets, and with time you learn that life is just a bit more of something good without things left unsaid. Life is fuller, life is better when you let the words pour out. When you shut down those silly little voices in your head that lock up your heart. When you step into the light and claim your feelings. This life could all end tomorrow, with all the thoughts in my head and feelings in my heart hidden away from the people who put them there. But I won't let it happen like that. 

There's a freedom in unshackling yourself from the doubts and insecurities you harbor within your little world and sharing them with the people surrounding you. This is a call, a prompting, and challenge - to stay the tough stuff. To make the hard decisions. To embrace the challenge of putting your whole self out there for the someone else to see. Because it's big. And it's scary. And sometimes it can be down right weird to just let it out. We've been conditioned to live within the lines of what someone somewhere at some time deemed "appropriate" behavior. Where we run around in circles acting like we're fine when we're not. I say to hell with that. Screw perfect. I'd rather be brave and fly - fly with my highs and lows and honesty and truth and fullness. Sometimes it's going to hurt, that's just the way it goes. But I refuse to look back one more time and wish I had laid it all out and not walked away. 

There is something magical about letting people know you want them and need them and that they are special and important to you and that there's nothing more you want than to be with them in this very moment and for all of eternity. And sometimes it's grabbing a hand to hold. Or saying how you miss them so much it hurts. It's letting someone else know that you just want to hold them because being as close to them as humanly possible is in this moment the most magnificent thing in the world.

There is nothing more beautiful than being bold and being brave with your life. And there is nothing more hazardous to the human condition than masking your heart's desire. 

We will never know the magic that can stir between ourselves and other human beings without taking the leap. Mail the letter. Send the email. Say the words. It's really really scary, but so is a life of regret and all the words tossed aside in the name of fear. 

There is no time to waste, for time is precious and limited. We are finite, perishable items, and you might never feel ready. It's a disservice to yourself to believe you'll ever be ready or that a place exists where things such as perfect and prepared and finished exist at once. No one is ever ready to do much of anything, and if you wait until you are you'll be standing still forever. There is no such thing as ready, there is only now. So bring all your beautiful words to the surface, speak your truths, and choose to live out loud. Burst at the seams. 

Now.

Now.

Now.

Know thyself.

"You realize that you are your best friend,

and that you can do anything, or nothing, 

And have good moments together."

(Veronica A. Shoftstall, 1971)

These lines come from one of my favorite poems, which I previously posted in its entirety here. These particular lines have been jumping off the page recently, walking right out into the open and playing themselves out in my life like a smack in the face. 

I'm currently living in Austin, Texas for the blink of an eye that we call summertime. And while I was so consumed with visiting friends and sharing stories and enjoying the brief moment I had in Columbus, I didn't stop for a single moment to consider what I would do without the comfort of friends and welcome distractions - that once I arrived at my destination, I would know not one person. Not a single familiar face. So with big eyes and a spirit of adventure, I set off on an exciting journey - brimming with idealism and anticipation for wide open spaces. And while I have enjoyed the autonomy and novelty of an unfamiliar place, I also underestimated the silence of anonymity.

It's no secret that I long to be with others - sipping tea, watching movies, and sharing deep thoughts, passions, and secrets over cheap wine. I define myself by the connections I build with others - the intense pursuit to satiate my extrovertedness by knowing and loving on people. I take such joy and purpose in talking to others, being authentic and real and baring souls. 

I, too, am fiercely independent, a trait I've never been able to conceal. But being alone, in solitude ... just me, and my little heart, and a brain that won't stop churning for fear of missing something while simultaneously overthinking every. little. thing. ... I've chosen to shy away from all of that. I rely, instead, on others to build me up and fill me up while I do the same for them. The intimate relationships I've intentionally created and tended to with others I have not created within myself. All the energy I pour into others has left little time to cultivate and embrace the single soul I will never be parted from - my own.

The past year, or really slightly more at this point, was a time of intense change and transition, and I have the growing pains and stretchmarks to prove it. One of the best lessons I learned, though, through the long nights and the tears and moments of doubt, is that I am completely capable of standing on my own two feet. I've screwed up. I've fallen down. I've scraped my knees and bloodied my hands. But those moments, the lessons in pain and heartache and being alone ... were and continue to be the best thing for me. Understanding of the self cannot occur when you're entertaining others' voices.

But being alone is not equivalent to being lonely. The time alone, the experiences of independence and self-reliance, occurs when we grant ourselves the opportunity to intimately know the reflection in mirror. To realize what we're made of. To understand that being still is just as important as hurling ourselves into the next big thing. We must set aside time be with quiet. To listen to the repetitive heave and ho of our own breath and to feel that little heart inside each of us, quietly pumping a consistent and reliable soft thud - a silent reminder of the strength and value and worth present in each of us if we merely take the time to recognize it.

I've relied on others for so long, for so many things - to make me feel worthy and validated and loved. But I realize now that I do not need others to make me feel whole. We are created as individual beings for a reason. Coupling off, finding a sense of belonging with others is natural. But we are built one at a time and we come into the world (most often) by ourselves. Yes, you were made whole without a need for intervention.

I pray you see the amazing work your hands do and the way your simple presence changes lives. I also hope you can recognize that for yourself in the moments of solitude. That you can look in the mirror and see the life and grace and joy that's there. That in the peace and the still you can revel in your own truths, discovering and clinging to the essential you-ness that exists. Because you are good and kind and worthy and whole and significant. And darling, I've learned the hard way, no one's gonna get you to believe those things except yourself.

It's a difficult journey, one I'm still traveling, as we've been trained to seek validation and self-worth from others. There will be stages in your life when you are alone and your self-reliance is what's got to get you through. Which is why I so desperately believe we must grapple with ourselves and cling to the person within. To spend time with your pretty little self to figure out who you are, what you want, and to stop running from the image in the mirror. For it is not until we are able to see our own brightness, our own significance and value and contributions - to love ourselves the way we love others - that we can truly enjoy the companionship of our our loved ones without depending on them to validate our existence or using them as a means of escape.

Let Love In.

My closet is organized by sleeve length, with all the cardigans hung to avoid creases. My desk drawer at work is color coordinated, painstakingly labeled, and my email inbox is frequently purged. I use a labeled expandable file to hold my coursework. I am concrete. I enjoy structure and fact. It gives me a sense of safety and control. I find comfort in plans and schedules and expectations, so I've created a world of tangible and controlled - a place where I feel safe.

This is nothing new, and if you've known for me for longer than a day or two you could pick up that I've likely always been this way.  I have these (not-so-subtle) quirks, that expose the crazy - the innate need to plan and have a handle on all things at all times. It enables me to move through the chaotic space of life with some semblance of comfort.

I'm a strange little bird, and I've accepted my tendencies as a part of my identity. I thrive on preparedness and don't like to leave space for creativity and flux and the unknown. Uncertainty is crippling. The control and demand for concrete-ness is an intentional armor I don every morning. It protects me from the violent back and forth of the everyday chaos of life but as a result I don't have great sea legs. Flexibility is not my strong suit.

Even more frustratingly, I struggle to trust others who can't be concrete for me. I require frequent reminding that people care for me, that they love me, and in order for me to really believe it, to accept it as truth, I want it in concrete format. I want it to be said or written down. If I can't hold it in my hand or hear the words fall out of your mouth I struggle to believe it. It's the same reason I hated chemistry and embraced biology - you can't see atoms and molecules (for all I know, someone made that whole thing up), but biology...now that's a different story. I always understood biology. It's in your face and you can touch it. There's no denying it's there. 

I'm a woman who needs the smack-in-your-face kind of signs. So I wrote this - an open letter - to the self-doubters, to the control freaks, to those of us harboring insecurities. To anyone, to everyone. We all need to hear this now and again.

I have a dirty little secret. A struggle I keep to myself. One that only surfaces and rears its ugly head when someone tries to get close and pull open that little door inside my chest where my heart is locked, tightly sealed away for its own protection. It's a painful process, an arduous journey, to be let in. I love and I share and I'm all about affirming others. My secret isn't that I put my heart away for safekeeping - many people do. It's that I've been unwilling to believe that anyone would want to see it. To open the door. To trust someone else to value it enough that they won't take it out, take a peek and toss it aside. I've been living with a genuine fear that as soon as I let people in they'll see me for who I am and walk away. 

You see, there have been a few people in my past, as I'm sure there have been in most, that I handed my heart over to. I was authentic and genuine and full of love. And it was great. Until it wasn't. Somewhere along the way something more valued came along and I was cast aside like yesterday's news. And it broke my heart. Though it's mended, it's awfully scarred and that raw feeling of rejection is something I never want to experience again.

So I built a little wall, a chasm, a preventative measure to ensure it won't happen again, to prevent the pain of love and loss and rejection. I'm happy to let you in and share my story. But only so close. And then it's ... "WAIT, STOP! Don't touch that. You might break it again. You care about me? No, you can't possibly." 

Me? 
But I am flawed. 
I am broken.
I am messy.

I've been fighting a constant and uphill battle with worthiness, self-love, and vulnerability. It's easier to keep that final boundary up. It's a lot easier to maintain just a little bit of distance. And that, my friends, is pathetic. Because we are loved. We are cared for. But we have to believe that. This fear comes from within and fed by insecurities and doubt manifests as control and chasms and walls. 

People are knocking at the door of your heart and it's time to let them in.

It's going to be scary. It's scary because it matters. Because when you accept it - the care, the affection, the LOVE - you're handing over yourself. Putting yourself out there for potential rejection but trusting that it won't happen. When people love you, in order to feel the joy and happiness that comes along with that, you must first learn to accept it. You've got to be willing to take that leap of faith and hand over your broken, mangled heart held together will glue and tape. You've got to trust they're not like the ones who hurt you. They won't carelessly toss you aside. They won't leave you. But you have to trust them enough to show you.

Muster up the courage to put your little heart in their hands and believe that they will carefully, cautiously hold and protect it. Stop pushing the people waiting at your door away. You can't live in the past and you can't measure them by the mistakes others have made. Be brave.

But WHY? you ask. WHY do I have to take down the wall? Release the control? Crawl on my knees out of my safe place?

Because.
Because you are worth it. You're worthy of a million little things. You're worth every big thing. You are worthy of love. Of time. Of energy. You are worthy of someone who holds your heart like it's the grand prize. Like there is nothing more valuable in the world. Someone who sees you as you are. And wants you. And chooses you.

I've made a promise to myself. That quote - "We accept the love we think we deserve"- it's time to embrace it by accepting the love that others are trying to give. I'm certainly no expert and I have a lot to reconcile with myself. But the first step is to relinquish control, even just a little bit. Enough to stop putting up a wall between myself and people who really want to know me. I'm done stroking the anxiety that comes from hiding a heart and expecting everyone to hurt me someday. I'm starting at the beginning: releasing the fears, trusting those who want in, and letting myself be seen. Raw. True. Authentic. 

Join me. It's time. Be brave. Let go. Open the door. Let love in.

The Truth About Forever

There's this myth about someone: THE ONE.

I don't believe in it. I don't think it's a thing: there is no ONE.

There, I said it! I'm going to get haters and hopeless romantics beating down my door, I know. But I'm one of those romantics, so before you try to beat me to a pulp, let me explain.

My father, in a rare moment of relationship-centered conversation and wisdom, imparted a nugget of wisdom I can't seem to shake, something that actually turned my world upside down. The groundbreaking comment?: "Don't believe the hype. There is no ONE person meant for you and only for you." 

Without a doubt, there are and will be people you complement, people who understand you, people who will connect with you. And you are fully capable of loving many people throughout your lifetime. Heck, I think you can love multiple people at the same time. (Now, how you handle that is a totally different story, but I digress...) But you get to pick your One.

And it takes a lot more than love.

It sweeps you up and makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside. Your eyes light up when you see their name flash across your phone screen, when they call you late at night. You know you're in love when your conversations last for hours and you could talk for hours more. You know it when you're ready to pack your bag and fly across country to spend a weekend, a day, an evening together. It can knock your world sideways like a wrecking ball. And in those moments, where you're enthralled and enamored and non-sensical...it's absolutely the most amazing and frightening feeling.

But that doesn't last forever, and for good reason. The act of falling in love is temporary madness. Emphasis on the temporary.

Being in love isn't enough. You can have two people absolutely, madly, divinely, in love and watch it all crumble. Why? Because relationships take commitment. They require sacrifice and compromise. And finding THE ONE, the person who is willing to spend forever (or at least willing to commit the next 50-70 years with you), looks a lot more like weighing pros and cons.

There is something we must all come to understand about love, relationships, and the novelty of happily ever after. One does not naturally lead to the next. Let's establish some ground rules. I do not believe love is a choice. I think you can fight it, kicking and screaming, because it's big and it's scary and it's inconveniently timed. Love is a feeling, an intense and uncontrollable emotion that does not respond to willpower. Relationships, commitment, and the stuff that really matters, the stuff that's worth clinging to life for... That's what's left when the love, the all consuming lustful surges, dissipates. It's what defines The One from The Others. It's not about about the love. It never has been. It's the choice to stick around and stick it out. And both of you have to want it more than not.

So who is The One? How am I supposed to find them?

That question is the inherent problem. It's why so many men and women run around unhappy that they've never stumbled into something made of fairy tale lore. Let me tell you a little secret. They are not lost. They need not be found. Forever is a choice. A conscious, thoughtful effort.

So here's the truth about forever.

The One is the person whose flaws you decide you can put up with for the rest of your life. There is (or should be) a lot of thought that goes into this decision. You will share tens of thousands of meals with this person over your life lifetime. They have to be the one you want to parent your children, to spend your vacations with, be your personal therapist (and you theirs), and the person whose day you will hear about 18,250 times (that's 50 years, if you didn't know -not counting the leaps). The person who, despite their best efforts gets on your nerves and hurts your feelings. They have annoying habits and a wacked out family, but you don't want to spend a day without them in your life because this is the same person whom you've decided is worth it.

Because not having them in your life is unimaginable. Because they challenge you to be a better version of yourself. Because they hold your hair, your hand, and your heart. Because for you they will always get up and show up. Because they know how to make you laugh and they cook your favorite foods at midnight because you're sad. Because they get you, and they remind you of the value of your soul when you doubt it yourself.

It's not always pretty, and it's definitely not going to be perfect. Society and the media have lied to you and give you terrible dating and marriage advice - reconcile that right now. Cinderella and Prince Charming aren't real and they certainly aren't you.

I won't claim to know much about living in happily ever after. I've broken my own heart in pursuit of The One and forever before. I don't have a checklist or it nearly all figured out, but I do know these things. The One has to be worth waking up to every morning and being excited to live another regular Wednesday with. Humor and laughter and play time are non-negotiable. (If I'm about to spend my life with you, we might as well enjoy it.) Authenticity and the genuine freedom to be ourselves around each other all the time is an absolute must. It's not going to work without natural chemistry, attraction, and a good vibe.

I'm flawed. And I mean Really. Flawed. But THE One, the thing that will set him above the rest, will continue to pick me, as I will pick him, every single day. Despite the flaws and mistakes and really rough stuff, I'll have a life partner - for good and for bad. And frankly, that sounds like a much better reason to spend forever together than some stupid glass shoe.

Emotional Exposure

Full disclosure: this post is chock-full of raw soul-bearing. If you aren't ready for some authentic personal truth, now would be the time to stop reading.

Intimacy is my highest value. Knowing people, really knowing them well and deeply, sharing dreams, secrets, and stories are what make my world go round. The afternoons spent sitting in coffee shops, 4 hour Monday night phone conversations, and lounging on couches drinking wine and chatting into the night are what my dreams are made of. I crave time with people and their stories and their hearts and their dreams. I fill my life with hours of others, swapping pieces of them for pieces of me. 

This craving for others, as much as it is the foundation on which I build my life, also creates the cracks. It exacerbates any insecurity or frustration, enabling me to cast self-doubt into moments that should bring me happiness. My intense desire to give and receive affection can at times be nearly crippling. I long to be in constant communication with other humans. Text messages, phone calls, emails, Facebook posts... the works. When I get a surprise call from a friend, I can feel the corners of my mouth turn upward to a smile. I will ride the emotional high as long as possible when I get an unexpected text or receive a forwarded email with the first line, "I saw this and thought of you." But my highs are high and my lows are low. I am a slave to the emotion. When my phone is quiet for hours, the inbox remains empty, and my text message sits unreplied for days...I feel a heaviness. A weight and burden I wish I could put into words. I struggle to explain the somatic response to the intense emotional reaction, except to say I have a physically heavy heart. My chest feels a pressure that isn't lifted until another high comes rolling in, on the back of another meaningful human interaction. It's a vicious cycle, riding the affection roller coaster. 

Extreme extroverted-ness in combination with an affection-sucking and affection-pouring personality makes me intense and a little bit frightening. I lead with authenticity and an open, trusting heart. It pushes people away. I get that. I'm overwhelming, and loud, and pushy. I'm impatient and let my gut reactions guide my behavior. My reliance on others for validation and as a means of self-worth is not okay - I know that. So instead of changing myself, which I don't believe can or should be done, I choose to change perspective. Stop seeking validation, seek instead support. I am surrounded by outstanding individuals. Others who voluntarily choose to love, care, and listen to me simply because they want to. How dare I, or you, or anyone else, spend another moment doubting that we are enough? That we should evaluate our significance by a standard of words and actions of others? It is called self-worth for a reason; it can only be determined from within.

                 

This is where I begin. Moving one step forward, I choose to stop the chase for a sense of wholeness found in the affections received from others. The only love and care worth having is that freely given by another - no strings or obligations attached. I will not chase people. The time has come to release the feelings of inferiority, insecurity, and self-doubt. I have no gap that needs filled, for there are people knocking on my door willing to be a part of my story. Shutting down the tiny voice inside my head, I remind myself that I am worthy. Of love. Of belonging. Of understanding. I am enough.

What's next? I will continue to fill my life with the pieces of others. I will shower people with love and homemade meals. I will enjoy every moment of meaningful, personal-philosophy-discussing coffee dates. I will laugh into the phone until the wee hours of morning, and I will share my couch and full glasses of white wine with anyone who wants a friend. It's who I am. Lover of affection and connection. So come share your doubts and dreams, I've got ears that crave your stories.