Instagrammification

We spend a lot of time perfecting ourselves for social media - that's no secret. Filters and carefully angled snapchats with witty captions. And we suck it up like some type of addictive substance, the intangible we long for but can't possibly have (mostly because its all manufactured) - aimlessly scrolling and scrolling and liking pretty sunsets and videos of puppies as our own sunset screams outside the window we never peek through.

Honesty alert: I spend entirely too much time comparing myself to strangers on the internet. Their perfectly placed throw pillows and blankets. The precious little puppy sleeping soundly on the couch. Beautiful, homemade meals and all the right lighting from those tiny little globe lights on their favorite outdoor patio some place warmer than here.

I absolutely love seeing this snippets of others' lives - wedding and engagement photos, backyard barbecues, and friends reuniting. Pictures of babies and vacations and perfectly positioned sunshine reflecting back at me from your ocean view - I eat it up. And then, inevitably, my face moves from the screen and back to my living room or bedroom. And I see the unkempt shelf in the bathroom. Or the clothes I still haven't worked up the courage to shove back in the closet. Or the messy bun, smudged make up, and sweatpants reflecting back at me in the mirror. And that's when the shame and the guilt and the negative committee that meets in my head stands up and starts chanting all the self-loathing untruths I let tear me down.

The way we have evolved social media's use makes us unhappy and turns us into internal emotional terrorists. I believe social media has an essentially good core - to maintain connections with minimal effort. However, it's also grounds for comparison and envy and internal turmoil. It has this uncanny ability to take moments you normally find joy in and sick twist and turn it into a popularity contest. Who wore it/planned it/photographed it better than I did? I've paused to ask myself: Does anyone actually care what my new running shoes look like? Or about my day strolling around Chicago? If it's not on Instagram did it really even happen?

Why do I care if people on the internet think my life looks interesting? 

We don't see life as it truly unfolds when it's been carefully crafted - put through the arduous and very strategic process of Instagrammification. It's not people as they are - it's a distorted, calculated version of life, and I'm just as guilty as anyone else. I've deleted far too many photos where I was perfectly content - alive and happy - but convinced it wasn't social-media-worthy sharing because I couldn't quite edit out the imperfections of my body or face, which gives me pause: Am I only documenting this moment to get thumbs-up and red hearts?

It's easy to resent the supremely fit girls behind the screen and the perfect bowl of soup in the beautiful white bowl with the parsley so elegantly dropped right in the center while I eat my bowl of Lipton Extra Noodle Soup and catch up on Scandal on another Friday night in (which is pretty amazing if you've never done it). But the beauty of your own life is not to be ignored or cast off as less-than. Somewhere along the way I let social media become less about me and more about you. Not the literal you on the other side of the screen - the general YOU. Out there. With all the stuff and friends and fun I need but (I think) I don't have.

We've turned ourselves into little screen-addicted drones - certain that whatever is going over there is better or more special than whatever is or isn't going on right here.

When did I become so ungrateful? When did I become so narcissistic and uncomfortable and envious? I don't have answers to those questions but I do have a response.

It ends now. 

I'm taking stock of what I've got and when I take the chance to look around, I'm one happy girl. I have everything I need and more and with that knowledge, there's a power in finding freedom from the strangers I compare myself to in a non-existent space.

I'm learning to accept and embrace the little life I've built. It's filled with an 8-5 job, laundry baskets, and uneventful grocery store runs. I spend too much time and money at HomeGoods and Target and every morning the most difficult thing I do is get out of bed. Finding a bargain deal is my happy place and I eat wine and popcorn for dinner more often than I care to admit (they're just so good...). I will never be a party animal - you're much more likely to find me in the kitchen covered in cilantro or basil and way too much garlic. I'm stumbling into my own happiness - a simple and quiet existence fueled by my new budgeting obsession and a desire to see the depths of people's hearts.

Far be it from me to never post again or filter out that zit that showed up in the middle of the day. But I promise to share as authentically as possible. And more importantly to be more than a human behind a screen. I want to give you more than likes and tiny hearts - I want to be in the heartstrings of your life, messy and cracked and tangled and warped. I'm in it with you - unfiltered.

If my life was a book, I think I'd like to read it.

We were spilling souls and sitting on comfy pillows late at night. That's what you do when you've got life to let out with someone you haven't shared your everyday with in a while. So we gushed and giggled and thought back to our September selves. The ones full of heartache and anger and confusion - what seems now like a lifetime or two ago. We talked about love and happenstance and the choices that make you. The ones that in a moment leave you decimated and flat out on the ground. The times when you're literally lying on the floor, in a puddle of yourself, crying out to your ceiling and the heavens and begging someone, anyone, to answer the question, "Why?"

But sometimes you are granted the opportunity to turn the corner. To put the rocky seas of hurricane waves behind you and find calmer waters and new people and a love for yourself you would never have found without the down-on-the-floor-my-life-feels-like-it's-over kind of nights. She said to me, after reflecting on all the pain of before and all the joy of today -

"If my life was a book, 

I think I'd like to read it."

I've been having this oxymoronic thought lately about decisions and life and the sum of all we do and all we are and how we get to the place called TODAY. So much of my life is just what happens - circumstances completely out of my control, simple happenstance. But that contradicts what we're often told - that it's our decisions that make us. You walk through life making choices and and at the end, your are a sum of the decisions you've made. But so much of what has changed me, struck me to the core, and guided the path of my story has nothing to do with what I wanted for myself at the time. I didn't choose to have my heart broken. I didn't choose for her to turn her back. I didn't choose to have a job offered to me right at the moment I needed it most. The fabric of life is often sewn together in the midst of the ripple effects from the decisions of others.

If I am to believe that - that so much of the way it all plays out comes from what happens to me - it feels like I am discounting the role I play in my own life. I own my story - I admit to my mistakes and rejoice in the triumphs that have come from the choices I've actually made. I'm not afraid to claim what I've done and how it has turned out.

So I'm choosing to live in the land between. It's not a position of indecision. Rather, I've peeled a little under what we accept to be true - that you decide how your life will go and that's just it - and have found a pattern. A pattern of distinguishable happenstance occurrences that present to you a life path you may not have traveled down otherwise. It's less of a choice kind of thing and more of a let's-just-wander-down-this-path-and-see-what-happens kind of thing that never really ends. Different people pop in and out and leave you with love and hurt and fullness and emptiness. You ride the ups and the downs and all along the way little things lead you this way and that and before you know it you look up and find yourself in a place and a time and with people you never would have planned for yourself back at the start.

One of my very best friends (and perhaps the wisest woman I know) describes the notion like this: the act of decision making is not something you do, but the ongoing process of evolving circumstances that we live into - which brings an inner peace to who you are and where you are and what you're doing in this moment, in this place, with these people. Not always forever, but certainly for now.

I've written about letting go - not planning your entire life - because that just doesn't work, or as I often say, "that's not a real thing." This is more than that. This is the step beyond - where you move past the reluctant acceptance that you cannot decide exactly what comes next and you embrace with vigor and joy seasons that come as they will - with gusto and adventure and a sense that the best things are yet to come with a trust that when you do let go you will discover all the things you weren't aware you were looking for. Like gritty, real love. And authentic friendship. A perhaps a sense of self.

In the last two years I've learned that trudging forward without a roadmap doesn't have to be painful or scary. I admit, still, that I have no idea what I'm doing. But I do believe it's about taking the right risks and challenging the narrow notions of what you once thought a life worth living could look like. You just put one foot in front of the other. And make a little choice. And another. And you just keep choosing. And you might not feel it right away, but it's you blazing the trail of your life one little step at a time. 

There's something special about folks who are willing to Let. Things. Be., instead of taking a saw and chisel to every little moment in life that doesn't turn out exactly the way they expected. There is something abundantly beautiful and brave about accepting the unknowns and surprises in your story. It's like riding on the back of a motorcycle for the first time - absolute fear and absolute freedom. And in the same way, you must lean in to the turns on the winding road if it's going to be an enjoyable ride. 

I choose (as much as I can) to waltz with happenstance. To let life unfold as it will - and to celebrate the fact that all those things I did, in synchrony with all the things every one else has ever done, are the things that brought me here. And the not knowing, the bliss that comes from blindness to what happens on the next page of this life, is the best part. I will excitedly keep turning the page, because this story - my story - is one I love to read.  

The Liars Look Like They Have it Together (And Other Truths)

I'm 24 today. And while that by no means certifies me as an expert on life or qualified wisdom-giver, I've decided to share a few personal truths I keep in my things-you-should-remember-because-you-learned-the-hard-way bag.

1. No one actually has it all together, and if someone says they do you can be certain they're a Grade -A liar. Truth is, we are all just winging it. I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing. Embrace the uncertainty, and stop comparing your beginning to someone else's middle. You were never intended to live out a duplicate life and it would be so boring if it all played out as we expected.

2. It's ok to ugly cry. 

3. There will be days you need to put on your big girl panties and say "enough" and move on. Mourn and be done with it.

4. There is nothing more beautiful than two people who continue, day after day, to choose one another.

5. Ripping off band-aids still hurts.

6. You must always remember how to breathe. It will get you through nearly everything.

7. Be careful with your words. Once they've left your mouth, there are no take-backs.

8. You will be hurt by the people you love most. It's a fact. We are human, and therefore imperfect and prone to inflicting accidental pain. But grace and forgiveness are the best gifts we can give to one another.

9. You will hurt the people you love most. It's a fact. We are human, and therefore imperfect and prone to inflicting accidental pain. But grace and forgiveness are the best gifts we can give to one another, and often to ourselves. 

10. Kindness still matters.

11. Honesty is the highest form of intimacy.

12. You need hobbies. Activities that bring you joy. If it brings happiness to someone along the way, fantastic. And if it just brings you pride and peace, that's more than enough, too.

13. You exist on purpose, for a purpose. You may not know yet what that purpose is, but the most important day of your life will be when you do.

14. People come into your life for seasons and reasons. Seasons can be long - years, even lifetimes. Or they can be short - weeks, days. So when the time comes to release, do it. Just as you were born to play special role in the history of mankind, so are all with whom you interact. For you have served an intentional and meaningful purpose in their lives as they have done for you. Not everyone is meant to be a forever friend.

15. Stop giving your heart to people who make you question your worth. There are many genuine, open, willing hearts out there - they want to be known, and to know you. I pray that you learn to let go of and walk away from those who do not choose you. You deserve a fighter in your corner, not a question mark.

16. You will suck at things, it's true. But you excel in others. Instead of focusing on the few things with which you struggle, invest in your talents and gifts. You will influence the world by honing your best skills as a power for good more so than dwelling on your weaknesses. You can't be the best at everything. So instead, be the best you.

17.  Whatever you decide to jump into - a new job, a new relationship, a new place - be all in. Half-assed anything is not worth your time. Life is too precious and short not to be absolutely enthusiastic about the groove you've got going on. 

18. Learning never stops. Read books - they are the gateway to new lands, scientific inquiry, and can seriously damage ignorance. Words have the power to change you unlike anything else.

19. Be brave. Feel the fear and do it anyway.

20. It's ok to still ask your mom how long to boil rice. Or eggs. 

21. There is no shame in dancing in your room, by yourself (or really, with others) in your underwear.

22. Some things just need released into the void. You will not always get apologies. Your relationships will not always end cleanly. You will not always get to say the things you want to say. But that little tote bag you carry - of shame and guilt and heartache and anger and regrets - it is doing you no good. You must gracefully let go of what is not meant for you because the past is a wicked dictator if you let her be.

23. Some things you need to fight for. There will be moments where you may have to stand, often alone, and shout into the crowd. You will shake your fists and stomp your feet. There will come a time where you have to drag your friend or family member or even yourself away from the darkness. There will be dirt under your nails and scratches on your knees but I promise it will be worth it, because there are things in this existence worth all your passion. Find those things and people, and never never never give up. 

24. Love is a verb. It is a commitment - a thoughtful, conscious effort. Do not search for someone to complete you, for you were created whole. Instead, embrace a complementary soul - one that fills your cracks and crevices and you theirs. A soul that encourages you to be the best version of yourself, without asking you to be someone else. And once you find a soul that grooves with yours, cherish it, for it is rare and it is most wonderful.

Your life is not a waiting room.

As I've started to get a little life under my belt, I've noticed myself wondering about time and intention and a lot about this foggy future concept. And with that has come a few realizations about what it means to be alive. What we're to do this here and now business, while our hearts quietly, loyally, pump away, non-stop, day after day - breathing life into both the loud and quiet moments.  

I'm futuristic. We know this - if you read my posts or know me at all, we know this fact to be incredibly true. I not only want to know what's going to happen today, but also what I'll wear tomorrow, and what I'm going to eat this week, where I'm going next month, and what the big plan is for next year. I want to know if I'm moving cross country or if I'll be nesting elsewhere. I want to know if I live out my days in Ohio or on a lovely beach. I want to know on our first date if you're going to be the one to love me forever. So I rush and I worry and I spend less time taking in the lights around me and instead piddle away my time on trying to sort out the murkiness of all that is to come. I don't live in the here and now very often, but every time I do I'm reminded why it's the most magnificent of experiences. I'm the kind of gal that takes the most precious of moments for granted.

But I don't want to live this way forever. It's not fun. It's not peaceful. It's got it positives certainly - I'm almost always prepared. I don't often forget things. I'm the girl that always brings the coat just in case she might be cold. But as the people who love me most remind me, every day, the mistakes are what make you. The moments in time where you decided, in an instant, to just live your life and be all in, to jump into the darkness and enjoy the windfall along with the inevitable trips,scrapes, and bruises and even more than that, the stories that go along with it. Because no matter what you do, life will keep coming and it's got no intention of telling you what's around the bend. It's full of pleasant surprises and celebrations - clinking glasses and champagne toasts. There will be fullness and happiness and love. But there will also be loss and tragedy and sadness and heartbreak and funerals.

We don't get to live designer lives. There is no picking and choosing what happens to you from the grand catalog of potential life experiences. And instead of fighting again the current that will never relent, we should settle in the flow and ride the waves. And as we do, we should take a moment to look around and soak it in. Because right now, I think life is pretty good. 

We spend so much of our precious time with headphones in our ears and our faces in front of screens. We watch documentaries about nature but never hike the trail down the street. We watch films about love and romance and all the most lovely of things, but we choose to separate ourselves from others for the fear of being known or vulnerable enough to expose our imperfections. We wait for life to happen to us instead of happening to life. 

So let me break it down for you. Your life is not a waiting room. Your hopes and dreams are real and meaningful, but if you don't take the chance to get your nose out of that screen and your head out of the clouds, the best things in life are going to pass you right by. Because now is good. And now is here. And the people and places and love and beauty and time you've got in this moment might not last forever.

I propose a challenge for you and for me. To be present. To be here. To put down the iCal and the gCal and agenda book. To stop begging to know what's next or to have it all figured out. Your story will unravel however it chooses, and I truly believe that whatever is meant for you, will happen. That your plan and purpose will expose itself no matter how much you plan for something (or someone) else. 

I challenge you to this: open your heart to this moment. To holding a hand, to a spontaneous kiss. To laughter in coffee shops and last minute meals. To letting go of the little bag you tote around full of your fears and the hurt you've refused to release into the universe. To fall in love and just let it happen instead of questioning every word, step, motive, stripping away the joy of the whole experience. To embrace the chaos of 7 billion lives, as wonderful and mysterious as yours, orbiting one another. To invest in those who invest in you. 

For today, this coming season, and the rest of your life, I wish for you these things:

I pray that your life is filled with magic and madness and that some of your dreams really do come true.

I hope that you read wonderful books and kiss someone who thinks you're absolutely mad but absolutely fabulous.

I hope that you create something that lives on - whatever it may be - for others to admire and appreciate and for you to know you've left an imprint on the face of this incomprehensibly large but unimaginably tiny blue planet.

I wish you happiness and singing and dancing and joy and peace and patience and kindness and the warmest of sunshine on your face.

I send you hope. For the future, whatever it may hold, and that you choose to let it come as it will, allowing the universe to surprise you along the way.

This life isn't going to be perfect; it was never meant to be. I will drop this truth on you straight: You will never "arrive". That place where you're confidently doing all the right things at all the right times with all the right people does not exist. But this place, doing these things, with these people - it's pretty enchanting if you let it be. 

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.