99 Problems

This week, in one of my classes, we studied Sigmund Freud. I know most people hear his name and shrink back and change the subject. But really, learning about him led to a mini journey of self-discovery right in my classroom. So here I am, prepared to make myself vulnerable to my blogging audience. So I present to you:


My fatal flaw: __________________ .

Everyone has one, right? Well maybe not everyone. But I definitely do. I have several. But this is my fatal flaw of the dating world. I much rather not admit any vulnerability at all. That means that I struggle.

When I was young, like real young, it was pretty normal to start picking crushes when you were like in the third grade. So I chose mine. And in a strange way, we were dedicated to each other. He was MY crush. No one else claimed him. I was happy. I was ten. As I got older and moved away from that crush, I started to not just choose one boy to be madly in love with, but instead two or three. I had to keep my options open. Because I was twelve. I was moving into the real world of dating [yes, this is how things worked in my middle school (if you don't believe me, talk to my friend who is now engaged to the boy she started dating in the eighth grade)]. Love was real then. It was also a strange experiment. But it was real.

I was talking to my friend the other night. She asked me if there were any attractive men I had my eye on. I reported to her that there were ten on my list. As of two weeks ago (in which I added two to my list). In my head, I love the idea of companionship. But also in my head, I love the idea of being myself. Which is what my flaw has become. I want everything. But I also want nothing. And I want those two situations to be happening at the same time.

I feel like I've lost all control. I do the things that make me happy. Sometimes that means that I hang out by myself, sometimes that means I find myself in the companionship of men. I use to have a saying in high school: "When will I learn that if I play with fire, I'm going to get burned." Well, I didn't like the idea of getting burned. So I have spent years learning the art of playing with fire. And you know what, I've never really been burned. Maybe stung a few times, but nothing dramatic. And I like it that way. Like I said, I don't like to show my vulnerabilities. So if I can just do whatever I want and not have any personal repercussions, I'm going to do it. I know when the moment is that I can get what I want. And if I can't get it, then I don't want it and I don't try. It's a pretty basic process really.

I always tell myself that I'm going to be better. I always say that I'm going to make an effort. That I'll stop playing with fire. That I'll just let things happen. And then I don't. I keep playing, pretending to be invincible to the elements. I fear that I may have burned some along the way and not known. And I feel bad. Because my whole world revolves around the fact that I don't get hurt. That nothing stops my happiness. Acknowledging that I make things maybe a little hard on the boys that are in my life would inhibit that happiness.

I'm not one of those girls who sits at home and wonders why I'm not going on any dates. I know why. I mean, I look at my past relationships and I wouldn't want to date me. I'm reckless. I'm careless. I want everything and nothing. Who wants to be with that?

I don't know why I feel it necessary to tell the world this. Maybe I feel like if I say I want to change, I will.

Maybe it's just because of Freud.

And I think I'm okay with that.

Take a Walk on the Sunnyside

I decided this week that I spend too much time thinking about the things that make life hard rather than the so many wonderful things in my life that make life easier. Like:

1. My Dad. He's is legitimately one of the best supports I have. He thinks that everything I do is perfect. I'm also pretty sure that he thinks I could go to the moon and back. He also thinks I am a rockstar.
2. My Mom. She is a voice of reason, even if I don't feel like reasoning. She also agrees with me. All the time. Because as it would turn out, we have the same mind. She also makes me laugh. A lot.
3. My brothers. All four of them. Because they are older now, so they have stopped trying to make my life hard.
4. My two beautiful sister-in-laws. Because they are too kind and raise perfect children.
5. My best friend and cousin who is in Nebraska right now. And although he doesn't always know it, his letters usually say exactly what I need to hear.
6. My friend who is across the country who lets me say whatever I want and doesn't think any less of me. And even though being friends while having multiple states between us is really hard. He stays friends with me anyway.
7. Haddles. Who through it all. Is still my bestie. And that's all that matters.
8. My doctor who knows how to fix the things that make my life miserable.
9. My coworkers.
10. My employers who let me work my own hours and understand that sometimes school can kick your trash.
11. The faithful friend who takes me to the doctor and sits in the waiting room for an hour and fulfills his calling.
12. The friends that let me come and talk to them for long periods of time and still let me come back.
13. My classmates who make class bearable and make studying easier.
14. My aunt and uncle who let me do laundry for free and eat their food.
15. My roommate who helps keep me sane and also shares the cleaning load with me (her load is often heavier).
16. Music.
17. My dance class.
18. The people I know who smile when they see me.
19. Sunny days.
20. My faith and the gospel. Life would definitely be hard without it.

Basically, as hard as life seems it could always be harder. And I'm glad it's not.