So Ambitious for a Juvenile

The other day, my professor asked: Why are you here? What do you want from your major? With two months left in my undergrad, I ask myself that question a lot. I hate when people look at me like I chose a major that will be useless in life. I hate when people think that the only things worth studying in college are those that so obviously mean that you'll have money. On the first day of my class this semester, my professor asked the same question: Why are you here?
Every person had a different path to be in that class (everyone in the world takes different paths). But a part of almost every person's story was along the lines of, "studying things with the goal of making money seemed pretty miserable." - now before I go any further, I need to make two points:

1. I like nice things. I intend on making money in life, I understand people who study things that they hate in order to give their future children a sweet life. I super respect people who enjoy studying those subjects that make a lot of money. We need  you in this world. And by goodness, everyone should just follow their passion.
2. I am not studying a dead-end subject. There are a fairly significant amount of jobs that I am qualified for that I could make a lot of money doing without a master's degree. So please stop thinking that I am destined for poverty.

But I want to answer the questions: Why are you here? What do you want from your major?

Honestly, I want to change things. I don't need to change the world, I just want to somehow make a difference. Which in reality, a lot of people want to do. This is the path that I've chosen to do so. I am where I am because I picked myself up each time I fell down, because I found something that I'm passionate about and I want to be happy with my life. As I apply for graduate schools, I find myself questioning everything. It's a scary life. I wonder if I am devoted enough. I wonder if this is what I really want...

And honestly, sometimes the answer is that I wish I was playing my trumpet twelve hours a day. Sometimes the answer is that I wish I was becoming a teacher. Sometimes I wish that I was going into clothing design. I wonder why I'm not applying to medical school and becoming the doctor my mom dreamed of. And some days, I wish that I could just sit at home and raise children with the husband that I don't have.

You can tell a lot about a girl by the contents of her shelf.

But then I remember. I love what I study. I love it with all my heart. It's not easy. It can be painstakingly frustrating to want to change everything and have no influence at all. It can be hard to love so many people and want to understand so many people but slip up and hate some and don't understand another culture. But for every little slip up, there are little victories. What I'm studying makes me a better person every day. I don't feel like I'm changing things yet. And though I love all of the small things I can do to make a living in this world, I know that I'm going to be much happier when I feel like I am inspiring change. I hope to reach that point somehow. Someday. A lot of times, I think this song was written for me.



I want so much. But I know that the only way I can get there is through the little victories. Even as I write this, the dreams I've dreamed for myself seem too big. It feels impossible. It feels like something I don't know if I really want.

But the thing about passion is that it doesn't matter how impossible life feels, it drives you forward. 

I wish I could explain to you what these words mean to me. But from the same talk this was given in, there was another quote that helps me remember what all of this is truly for:

this work is about love - not statistics.

Being Alive

I know I've been a bit dormant in my blog writing lately, but I've been a little busy. It is my last semester of school and I just can't even express to you all the crazy wonderfulness that is happening in my life.

BUT - it is time for my Independence Day post, if you are confused about what I mean then I suggest you check out these past posts if you have time:
Past and Present
It's Time to Begin
Honestly, I want to see you be Brave

I often say that I should rename this blog "Young, Alive, and Free." And I think that's what Independence Day celebrates. It's the celebration of being these three things and how I improve each year. Last year, I felt like I had made so much progress, but I am amazed by how much more I've grown.

I had a lot of growing opportunities this year.

I learned this year that I have strength beyond my own comprehension.

I have had to learned to look at myself and recognize the problems, but not let them paralyze me. This has allowed me to work on them.

I've had to learn how to pick myself up after falling flat on my face.

 I have learned to trust. I have learned it repeatedly. I have learned about hope.

I have learned that the support I have from my friends and family should not be taken for granted. 

I have learned that true happiness is being happy even when I'm sad.

I know who I am, where I'm going, and what I stand for. I know my purpose. I know that God has a plan for me. And I trust so fully in that plan. In these things. I feel happiness.

I am young, alive, and free.

I say all of these things knowing that I have not perfected anything. I have so much more growing to do so I can have something to celebrate next year. And that's exciting to me. I selfishly hope that I can inspire more people to have their own Independence Day. A day when they realize their own beauty, their own power. A day to recognize who you are, where you're going, and what you stand for - whatever that may be.

The lockscreen of my phone is a picture that says "YOU ARE ENOUGH." And I think that so often we focus on where we are lacking, that we forget that we have already done so much. And because of how much we've grown, we are capable of becoming so much more. And what we have within us is enough to become that. We just have to keep progressing.

So, Independence Day has come. And more than ever before. I feel young. I am alive. And I am incredibly free.

when it rains, it pours. and then it runs out.

"I don't want to become someone who can't live up to what they've already done"

I have yet to graduate from college. But it is going to happen soon. So I find myself preparing for the future.

There is so much I'm planning on doing with my life and so much I need to do in order to make that future possible. It's overwhelming. It's exciting. It's something different.

But then again, as I evaluate myself today - it is something different than what I could have ever imagined for my life. I never knew this is what I wanted. I never knew that this is the person I would become. 

For instance, when I came into college, I said I did not ever want to go to graduate school. I wanted to get a bachelor's degree that could support me without any sort of post graduate work. I did that. But I am choosing to apply to graduate schools because I have found the things I love and I want to do so much about them.

And that's what really matters to me. That is what should matter to everyone. To find a passion. And then do whatever you can in order to make the passion something you can do every day for the rest of your life.

I didn't always know my passion. Like I said, I thought I knew what I wanted. And there was honestly a point in my life where everything crashed and burned in front of me. But the beautiful part about things that burn down is that it allows for regrowth, rebirth. In my life, it meant a realignment of goals and desires. I recovered in the best way I could. And I'm now allowed to live a life better than I could dream of.

There are some things about that crashing phase of my life that I have come to terms with. There are so many things that feel resolved and so many things that I'm at peace with. In fact I wrote this blogpost to express my feelings of moving on. And I believe it. But I find myself wanting to make amends. I want to make a comeback. It's not so much that I haven't let go - it's that I hate being on bad terms with anyone or anything.

I like to think that it's a sign of being at peace with my life how it has turned out. Because I am. And in that way, I have comeback. I have comeback from the darkest, deepest failures of my life and I have made them into something beautiful, happiness.

So I don't need to make amends. I have already lived up to what I've already done. I have already passed that, I don't need to go back. It's so easy to want to go back, to change a specific failure into a new victory. Which is basically how I was feeling. But then I remember that the victory which is my happiness now - would have never happened if I hadn't have failed. Sometimes you have to lose a battle to win a war. Sometimes your comeback doesn't mean fixing what was wrong but moving past it.

And when you find happiness. You keep that. And don't question it. Take it, and run with it. And don't let it go, just let it grow.

p.s. This is a shoutout to the beautiful people in my life because I failed.

Nothing Comes Easy When Everyone's Rushing

There's a great movie I watched a lot as a child. In it, there is a character that is an immigrant to the United States and as he tries to give a pep talk to the main character he says very simply -

"Peoples is peoples, okay?"

In the movie this part is kind of funny because it's this man rambling on about something that doesn't really make sense and the line sounds so obvious and redundant. After some recent events though. I get it. I get what this character was trying to say. I get why they wrote it. It's because peoples is peoples.

People are not obstacles, people are not objects, people are not problems to be solved. People are not to be used. People are people. They are real. They have feelings, they can change, they can act for themselves. Just because someone has a problem doesn't make them one. We must separate the two. We can't define people because of what they've done or what they've been through.

I had a friend a few years ago. He left a huge impact on my life for how little I knew about him and for how little he knew about me. But that's actually why he had such a huge impact on my life. He didn't need to know about people's pasts to be their friends. He didn't have to know what you had done or where you had been. He met people, talked to them about their days. Talked to them about their beliefs. Talked to them about the person they were that day. And his friendship meant everything to me because everyday was a new day and I was able to be the person I was, I felt like I could be the person I wanted to be too.
He understood. He knows. That people are people.

I know that this is probably confusing and I'm pretty sure I'm not saying anything the way I want to. But I just think I need to remember to accept people for who they are. Even if I do know about their past - that's not who they are today.

Because peoples is peoples, okay?

The Heart Of Life

As most people in my life know - I worked at a lake three summers ago. It was the most beautiful, incredible, life-changing thing I've ever done. I talk more about those four months of my life than the other twenty-one and a half years I have lived.

It's not like it was easy and the most fun. Don't get me wrong. There were hard times. There were sad times. There were time when I wanted to pack up and go home. But I promise you, every single second I spent there was worth it. I became myself there. It is one of the places I feel most at home. 

I insist on going back to the lake every summer. And when I get there. I feel so natural. Life makes sense. I understand things better. I slow down. Three hours at the lake is equivalent to about three days in regular people time. I never want to leave. But every part of me knows that I need to. That the lake has done it's work and that I need to move on. But I can never and refuse to ever forget it.

 

Whenever I go, I take several photos. It was this time around that I realized something...this place. It never changes. I have so many pictures of the same two mountains just on different days weather wise. But I fear that I'll forget them. And every time I see them, I'm reminded of how majestic they are and I feel an intense need to save their beauty and have it with me wherever I go.

But I realized something else.

Every time I see this place, it means something different to me. It's not like it visually looks different. It's not that the mountains change. I change. 

When I left Redfish, I knew that my life would never be the same, but I didn't realize what was coming toward me. I didn't realize that I had so much more change ahead of me. But those changes would have been so much harder if I didn't know who I was. And I'm so glad that during my time at the lake, I found out who I am.

Because no matter how much changes in my life and how much I change. I know who I am. And I know that because of four beautiful months in a beautiful place.

 The previous three photos were taken in three different  years.

This is from my 19th Birthday. Never have I felt so loved by being thrown in a lake. Twice.

I feel like I will never be able to adequately express what this place means to me. Words are never enough for feelings. But I promise you. I feel things.

No matter where we go. We always find a way back home.

Still I Call it Magic

"It is better to be trusted than to be loved"

Recently, I went through an experience and I tried to classify it as heartbreak, but that was foolish of me. What really happened was that I felt like I had been betrayed. I felt like I trusted someone so much and it all fell apart. I had too much trust and now it just feels like a lie. It hurt so much more than any heartbreak and it's been harder to recover from than anything I could imagine.

I wish I could define trust. I wish I could understand it better. I wish I could say that trust is tangible and measurable. I think trust is so much more than honesty and truth. I think trust is your expectation of a person. It's how much and what you believe the person is capable of doing in your life.

It is when a person discontinues to meet these expectations that things fall apart. The person no longer becomes capable of all that you believed they were. And that's when trust fails us.
Trust is such a personal thing. It's choice that each of us has to make for each person we meet. It's something that we create, that we each define differently. It's a feeling.

I put too much trust in one person. It's not his fault that it hurt when it all fell apart. It's my fault, because I was the one who set those expectations. And that's the hard part. Knowing that I made it possible, and that I could do it again. Because it is the trust I had that hurt me so much, I'm scared out of my mind to trust again. But the pain is going away. The trust that I felt was broken before is being strengthened again simply because the love that I had is stronger than one person's mistakes. Than my mistakes.

And that's beautiful.

People can do much good when they feel trusted. People are able to see what they are capable of when we see it for them and show it. It's incredible. Trust is worthwhile, it can strengthen us. We can't stop trusting.

So I don't know if trust is better than love. I think they're interconnected. I think they build on each other. That's just what I think, but what I know is that it's all going to be okay.

"And if you were to ask me

after all we've been through -

Do I still believe in magic?

Yes I do.

of course I do"

Feel Again

I honestly have more on my plate than is comprehensible to me right now, so obviously, I'm writing. I just had a breakthrough you know, well maybe not a breakthrough...but a thought.

I have bragged in the past about my independence, my ability to be free and be myself and to be happy. And I don't take that back. But I do think that I have spent more than a fair amount of time in life waiting for a man. There. I said it. It's not that I need one, it's that I feel so awesome that it's almost like I deserve one.

I'm not delusional, I know that it takes time to find someone that's good for you and that there are plenty of lovely girls around me that have never had the opportunity to even date a boy. And that is unfortunate for them. And it's not unfortunate because they've never had the opportunity. It's unfortunate because literally OUR WHOLE LIVES have been filled with the church, our families, books, movies, television shows, our friends and advertising telling women that men are basically guaranteed in this life. How are women supposed to feel when that just doesn't magically happen in their lives?

I feel like I've wasted so much time planning a future that isn't actually guaranteed, who can actually guarantee that? I can't. Many have tried. But sometimes, I can't help but wonder why. Why love? And maybe I'm just upset or bitter or sad or frustrated with love right now, but that's where I'm at.

And then I realize. That I know why everyone is obsessed with it. Why the world raises us telling us that love is guaranteed. How love seems to work it's way into every part of our lives and why it can be frustrating and why people make it out to be so important.

It's because love is worth it.

And I sometimes almost resent love for being worth it. But then I remember that it's fantastic. It's powerful. And I'm not talking about friendship love either, I'm talking about straight-up romantic, unconditional love. It's wonderful. The way that it can hurt and help and break down walls and solve problems and make everything okay again. It's better than the movies. It hurts more than the movies let on. It does more good than the movies let on. I don't know. I know I should be feeling awful most of the time, but I can't. I can't feel bad because of what happened, I can only move on with hope. Because I know that it's possible. I know that I'm capable. And maybe I'll get to fall in love over and over again. Maybe I'll never feel this way again. But at least I know that I can. At least I know that I have. And that is beautiful.

So maybe it's misleading, and maybe it's hard. But I'm glad. I'm glad that we live in a world that believes so fully in love. Because love is worth believing in.

Be Here Now.

I'm taking a lot of credits this semester. I feel like I'm always busy and that I can't give enough of myself to all of the people and things in my life. I just want to be able to give more. And be more. But as I get myself worked up about being perfect, being a good friend and being someone worthwhile. The type of person that other people want to know and be with. I realize that I need to stop getting worked up and just be. And of all of the physical things I can give, aside from love (which I give unconditionally to many many people), one of the greatest things I can give is time. And whether I'm giving this time to my classes, my employers, my friends, or God, this time is valuable and I need to not be distracted. Which leads me to this simple phrase that was said in one of my classes and I have been saying to myself several times a day ever since:

Be where you are.

I have not perfected this art yet. I still let my mind wander and don't give my all to where I am all of the time. But I'm trying. And I love the idea of making the most of my time not by multi-tasking. But rather giving my devotion and self to where I am. To focus on the people who I am with because if I'm there, I made the choice to be there and I need to make people believe that I want to be there.

This applies to classes, work, hanging out with friends, and homework. Like I said, I'm not perfect. But I've noticed a difference. It makes me happier and I'm getting more out of what I'm doing and I still have time to accomplish everything I need to. And I don't freak out so much about being enough of a person. Sometimes it still feels like there aren't enough hours in the day. But less-so now. So 

Be where you are.

Make the most of your time.

There's more to life than trying to get everything done as fast as possible.

Enjoy what you do.

Love yourself and love your life.

I Love You Better Now

- and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbors worthy -

Thomas Merton was a monk and a writer. He was born in France and eventually moved to the United States. And months ago, I read this quote by him. "Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. That is not our business, in fact, it is nobody's business, what we are asked to do is to love and this love itself will render both ourselves and our neighbors worthy." It's truly beautiful but what I've never really noticed is the end where it says that loving itself  makes us worthy of love.

I would like to say that I was recently thinking about love, but I mean, it's something I think about a lot and have been thinking about for a while. But at church today the question was posed

"How do you better love yourself?"

Loving oneself is a delicate balance between, self-confidence, self-esteem, vanity, and humility. But Thomas Merton says that when we love others, we ourselves become worthy of love. Every human being has loved. Romantically, platonically, completely, unconditionally, unrequitedly, perfectly, or imperfectly....humans inherently have a great capacity to love. [This is a long and beautiful subject that I'm not going to go into completely - but if you're interested, check THIS out] But really I believe Thomas Merton. That if we can love others, we can love ourselves. We are worth loving, we are all worthwhile. And if we have applied love in our lives to others, why shouldn't we be able to apply that love to ourselves?

In a book (movie) that I love, it says, "We accept the love we think we deserve." The moment I heard this, I tried to comprehend it. I often associate it with a quote from another movie it says that "Every woman has the exact love life she wants." and then later on in the story it says "But I can't imagine that this is what you want."

I know that might seem unrelated, but in my head it makes sense. It all comes together. No person on earth knows how to love perfectly. We all have things we have to learn about love. But I think we too often forget the importance of loving ourselves. If we love others, we can love ourselves (even if it seems hard sometimes, trust me, I KNOW). And if we love ourselves, we want more love. We want to be loved right.

We are worthy of love, most certainly from others, but just as importantly, from ourselves.

So Bring on the Thunder

I once was talking with my friend and she said

Lightning doesn't hit the same place twice in a row.

Now it doesn't matter if she was speaking metaphorically or what she might have been metaphorically speaking about. All that matters is that I've thought about it so much since she said it.

Growing up in Northern California, I'm not a stranger to thunder storms. But usually, when I think of lightning storms. Two very specific events come to mind. The first is the storm that was happening as I was at high school orientation for the first time. I didn't know at the time that it was going to be my last California thunderstorm. But I'm so glad that I took the time to appreciate it. The second storm I always think of is the first storm we had at Redfish. Each of these times make me think of the changes that went through after them. My move to Idaho, my intense growing experience that happened while I was as Redfish and the semester that followed it.

This friend of mine was trying to remain optimistic for me. And I appreciated it. But the metaphor was a lie. Lightning struck twice in a row and it was hard. Both times. And both times require extensive recovery. And you know what, that's okay.

The way I see it, lightning is always followed by thunder. Lightning signifies change. Once it does hit, good or bad, better or worse, things will change. So even though lightning did hit twice and yeah, it was not fun. Change is on it's way. Because if you want to dance in the rain, you're going to risk the sting of lightning. But then you'll experience the rolling beauty of thunder and the storm will rage on. And by all means, keep dancing. Keep experiencing life. Allow the lightning to come to you. Allow yourself to be hurt. To mend. Allow the progress to happen. Don't sit inside, wishing for the rain to stop. Wishing that you could walk into the sunshine without any pain.

I'm not sure if this makes much sense. I have a lot of emotions flowing through my body today. And I really like that. Because it makes me feel alive. It makes me feel like I can change. That good things are happening and better things will come. 

Lift Your Head and Stand Your Ground

Sometimes I worry that I might be too mature for my own good. And then I do something ridiculous like wear leggings with cats flying through space on them. Or I'll do something irresponsible like write a blogpost instead of my paper.

I'm only twenty-one years old. I have been through a lot in my life, and really I was fairly young when my mom stopped painting the world as a pretty, perfect place. But I wouldn't say I've had a life that forced me to grow-up immaturely and I would definitely say I'm a far cry from getting a special segment on Ellen or Oprah. I would say I've had a normal life, in which I had to start my journey to adulthood at the ripe old age of seventeen. I think most people could probably say they did the same thing. And it has been quite the journey, full of all the things that make people learn how to grow up (failure, heartache, financial stress, pain).

I was a quiet child. I was shy. I always enjoyed listening to people. I was constantly worried about being rude or someone that could have mean words said behind my back. Interestingly enough, I now study Sociology. I study how people interact and why they do what they act because of these situations. Along the way of my college journey - I have been allowed to better understand myself and the people around me.

Now let's just start off by admitting that I am human. I have just as many flaws as the next person, if not more. I also understand that other people are human and have flaws. Friendship is recognizing the flaws in someone and still talking to them anyway. And I have a lot of friends who are really patient me. Which is awesome. Because I sure do talk far too much and I sometimes can joke about things to a degree that people think that I personally am attacking them and sometimes I'm a horrid gossiper. I get impatient with my peers who cannot figure out how to be adults. But all of these things I'm trying to stop and aside from the talking too much thing, I do pretty well. I try to apologize. I try to make up for it. But like all humans, I falter.

This semester. I have been fighting a beast. I will not say if this beast is a person, my own thoughts, a disease, a book, or an animal. I will not say if this beast is actually real or a figment of my imagination. I will not say that I have conquered this beast. Because that would be not true. I have been patient. I have submitted to what the Lord has handed to me because it is better to be happy and share love than to be frustrated and cause contention.

I will admit these things though:
1. Maybe I have not always had the best attitude about life this semester. And as much as I'd like to blame the beast, it is not entirely the beast's fault.
2. The beast has made me into someone who entirely not myself. Many times. And I don't like who that person was. I will be happy when the beast exits my life, I will feel like myself again.
3. The beast has caused me to feel:

inadequate

FAT

stupid

messy

unintelligent

weak

hideously UGLY

unsuccessful

mean

worthless

I have felt like I am not smart enough to be a college student. I have felt like I don't deserve to have friends. I have felt like the world would be better if I turned into the shy girl who never talked. I felt like no man will ever love me. I have felt like my hair is keeping me from being beautiful. I have felt like I may never be good enough to accomplish anything of merit in this life. I have felt like crying.

I have felt a lot of awful, horrible things because of the beast's power.

I've been trying to release myself from the beast's power for a while now.

Since the moment I recognized the beast was trying to change me.

And although it has not been an easy fight, I have been mostly successful.

But I'd lie if I told you I haven't thought some of these things in the past week because of the beast.

But I have learned so much from the beast. First off, whatever the beast makes me feel, I am not any of those things listed above. I am a person and I deserve the right to be who I am.

And I want to be better. To turn my weaknesses into strengths. To not let anyone else be effected by the beast. I want to love more. I want to love better. I want to forget the beast and I also want to remember the beast so I never go through this again.

So I guess this is just a long post about why I haven't been writing. And about how we are all good enough. And we can all fight beasts. And we can all find strength to get through the rough times. We are all people and deserve to be treated as such. And if there is a beast in your life, a person, your grades, your thoughts, anything...FIGHT against it. Be who you are, because you are capable of so much.

Just Haven't Met You Yet

My junior year of high school was the year that I really recognized that I starting to lose my connection to California. I missed it. All of the time. I still do. I continually felt the need to be there to feel like home again. I'm sure that everyone misses the place where they grew up. I'm sure that's why my mom insisted on us moving back to Idaho after her being gone for nearly thirty years.

That was the year that I was taking AP English with one of my all-time favorite teachers. We had to write an essay in which we used description of a place to evoke emotion to our readers. A pretty basic assignment I would say. I chose to write about something that I had a lot of emotions about. Rinaldi's Market in Linden, CA. My teacher was amazed. She loved the paper, it was a major improvement from my previous assignment and it was full of my dramatic teenage emotions. My mom cried when she read my paper. I sent it to my friends in Linden and they loved it too. You may be sitting there, thinking to yourself: really, a grocery store? What makes it so special?

I can't really explain it. When this world seems to be getting so big, it's nice to know that a place like Rinaldi's exists. Or maybe thinking about how it was in the past makes me remember that I'm from a small town and that no matter where I go or what aspirations I have, that's where my roots are.

The other day, I was working on an assignment for class and I went through and read my paper about Rinaldi's. The first time in years. And guess what - it was a really bad paper. But there were some beautiful parts to it. It was titled "I Fell in Love at a Grocery Store". I remember how proud I was of that title. Then, I kid you not - seven months later, THIS VIDEO was released. It then became my dream to actually fall in love in a grocery store. But this isn't actually a blogpost about how I have recently fallen in love or anything.

This post is mostly about how sometimes it's really nice to remember where you came from. 

It makes you want to look at where you're going and make it count.
I have this internal debate every time someone asks me where I'm from. It would seem so sad to forget the place I grew up. But I hate neglecting what Idaho gave to me as well. So I usually say both.

Because I like who I am.
And these places are a part of that.

Honestly. I want to see you be Brave.

It's time for my annual independence day post. "Independence Day?" You may be thinking to yourself...but in case you were wondering, on October 5, 2011 - I broke up with a boy. And then I went a whole year without dating anyone. I didn't hold a boy's hand. I wen on a total of one date (to some, this may not be a big deal, but for me, it was). And you wanna know something. I LIVED. The culmination of my thoughts were written and I took on another year. And you know what. I didn't go without dates. It hasn't by any means been a boy free year. It hasn't been a year without being hurt. But I still wanted to Celebrate.

"I'll remember those three letters. It will be O.K."

Last year, I was celebrating being able to be myself. Learning how to live and embrace my free spirit. I became comfortable with me. I know that I can be who I am and no one can change who that is. People can make me want to be better, inspire change - but I will always be who I am. And that was a good thing to learn. That was something happy to celebrate.

"Let your words be anything but empty"

Ever since the first time I heard this song, I felt like it was the most perfect anthem. This year, I think this is what I've learned. I've learned how to use my power. That I have power. To not be afraid to be or say what I feel. And yeah, maybe it's brought on some heartache, but the joy that I've been able to have afterwards and the lessons I've learned because of it is immeasurable.

I've learned how to recognize my weaknesses and improve my character. I've had other inspire change and then I've made the changes. I've improved, and that's really cool. So really, there is every reason to celebrate.

And I think that everyone should find reasons to celebrate their lives. Celebrate the changes. The miracles. The positive things in life. Because change is good. Progress is necessary and the beautiful thing about the life we've been given is that we are allowed to progress and improve.

So Independence Day has come and I am happy. And I am me. And I am still young, I am alive. And I am incredibly free.

I Whip My Hair Back and Forth

With people I've just met or people who don't even know me, a lot of the time, the first thing said to me is:

"I LOVE YOUR HAIR. Don't you just love it?"

and then as people get to know me, the question that almost always comes up is:

"Has your hair always been short?"

The responses to each of these questions respectively is "Thank you and yes it's the best thing I've ever done" and "No." It kind of blows my mind to think that there are people in my life who have never known me with long hair. It's strange how my short hair has become a part of who I am. When I cut it, I wrote a blogpost titled "It's just hair." But to be honest, it's always been more.

I realized at a pretty young age that my hair was my greatest asset. It was a beautiful color, it was fine and broke easily. My mom always kept it at my shoulders and had me count my brush strokes when I brushed it every night. It was my main point of vanity until I started putting it in ponytails as I got older. That was an attempt to hide it I think. Or I just stop caring because in middle school, I didn't think I'd ever be pretty so why try...

In high school, things changed a little bit. It became my greatest asset again. I loved my hair again, that was cool. But no one ever noticed it. It's not like it had a lot of power over people or that it made all the boys drop at my feet. It was just there. 

Soccer was where hair really counted. That ponytail is a symbol of status. Working for the soccer team at BYU, I have noticed a lot about female soccer players, and in turn, myself. But hair is an important part of that. The way each girl does her hair expresses individuality and seriousness of play. It just means something. I don't know if I can fully describe it. But trust me.

Being on stage, hair becomes extremely important. And this is an example of the ridiculousness I use to put myself through. But it's true. Whether you're acting or dancing, your hair is there and it changes things. I went and saw a dance performance last week. And I realized the importance of having long hair to put into perfect buns as a ballerina and beautiful up-do's as ballroom dancers. You notice when a woman is on stage with short hair.

This post is already getting long, but recently, a coworker and I were discussing how much we love our short hair and that although we pretend we cut our hair for ease. We also cut our hair to make a statement. My statement was particularly directed toward an idiot boy who said that girls were no longer attractive once they had short hair. And the statement is that as beautiful as long hair is, sometimes, a girl can really rock short hair and it can be beautiful just as much. This isn't a plea, by any means, for every girl to cut their hair short. 

This is just a plea for you to do what you want and to be happy. 

We're Only Several Miles from the Sun

When I worked in the store at the lake, there was a man who would come in every day to buy yogurt and a piece of fruit. Every morning, without fail. This man is none other than the original Elvis. He claims he was named Elvis before Elvis was even a musician, therefore he is the original. This man is older. He has tanned, wrinkly skin that looks like it's been turned into leather. He always wears a fleece vest with nothing underneath it and a pair of cargo shorts. I mean always, he could be a cartoon character. He sometimes drives his pickup to the lodge, which at all times has his bike and kayak attached to it. If he doesn't drive, he rides his bike there. He has grey hair that become wavy as it gets longer. He has a kind face but sometimes has crazy eyes.

He likes to talk to people, constantly asking them questions about their lives. All the girls in the store enjoyed talking to him. He was just a regular in our day and it was nice to have a customer who was kind and actually kind of cared about your life outside of being the person selling them overpriced souvenirs and necessities.

Elvis thought that I was a genius. He was impressed with my interest in math. He wanted me to marry his grandson who was studying engineering at Michigan State. I've always thought Elvis to be a strange sort of genius, you know like the ones that helped build the atomic bomb and then were never quite the same again. If anything, he is a character. 

But more than Elvis's strange habits, wardrobe, and ideas on life. I have always admired his ability to connect with people. Last week, I saw Elvis. It was the first time since that summer. He remembered my name, my major, where I go to school. It was incredible. Some people would think it creepy, but there's more to it than that.

In today's world, it's so common to find pride in being forgetful and shame in being able to remember things and people and those little things. You're more likely to hear someone confess to forgetting names easily than to hear someone admit that they can remember everything in a conversation they had with one person one time. Sometimes people who do remember feel the need to pretend like they don't so they don't seem creepy. But maybe we need to change that because when someone remembers, it makes you feel happy. It makes you feel loved. I guess that's the moral of this whole story. We should put more emphasis on kindness, on listening to others and really letting it sink in. Because the more we remember --the more we can truly touch a person's life. 

If I only had a heart

I've been thinking a lot  lately about love. Not the kind of love that girls normally think of though. It's the kind of love that you feel for your friends. It's the kind of love that a person can potentially feel for everyone. To me and those with my beliefs, it is the love of Christ. It is charity. To others, it is simply the feeling of being understanding the human race or being one with nature or being one with oneself. But whatever you believe this love is, it is humanly possible.

This quote inspired this post.

Sometimes I don't understand it. Sometimes I don't know how I can love a person so much and feel so much pure joy in their being and their being in my life but also feel completely frustrated with them and not want to even be with them. I think that's the hardest part. I feel all of these positive feelings for a person but can have such negative emotions. It doesn't make sense. Sometimes I wish I could just love each person in my life perfectly all the time. Or sometimes I feel like it would be easier if I didn't love anyone. But that's not really possible.

I don't really know what I'm trying to say. One time someone told me that she believed that I have a bottomless heart. I will forever be flattered by that statement. But I don't think I've reached that point yet. But I think I have the potential. I think everyone does, actually. Love is such a peculiar feeling. It can't be explained. It can't be measured. It is simply something that you have. It's something that you grow. That you make better. It's something you earn, something you can lose. It has so many different facets and so many different expressions. It's simply what it is.

So I guess that maybe I'm trying to say that I don't love everyone perfectly all of the time. But there are moments in my life where I've known that it was possible. And if I can feel that, then everybody can.

daughters will love like you do

I don't know how I feel about bragging about my father on the interwebs. But I feel that maybe he will appreciate that I feel like he's worth bragging about. I know yesterday was Father's Day was yesterday, but better late than never, right?

I actually got into a fight with my friend in which we were trying to decide which one of our dads would win in a fight which would establish them as the true best dad. It was pretty intense. But really, I think my dad's pretty fantastic. I've always been a "daddy's girl". I'm not ashamed, I'm actually quite proud (let's not devalue my mother, I'm my mother's best friend, but my daddy's girl).

My dad is fantastic. He's taught me everything I know and some things I've forgotten. He taught me to love math, to play poker, to jump in the cold water and love every minute while you're in it. He's an example of a patient person, someone who always is willing to help, a man who wants to do what is right. He taught me how to be a soccer player who never backs down. He taught me to love old cars. To be proud, to work hard and to be smart with money. He's an amazing example of how to fulfill a calling. He taught me to love animals, to remember your passions. He has shown me that maybe life doesn't always go exactly the way you dreamed, but it will go the way that will make you happy.He supports me in just about everything I do. I think he believes that I could walk on the moon if I chose to do it. And that support is everything to me. My dad has shown me how to love the people around me, how to get to know people. I've always loved the way that people admire my father for simply being himself. He's taught me that things like this are completely possible. And he's taught me most of these things by example. He always gave us time. He still does.

whenever I'm hurt, he's there to help me understand and make it better.

I will be the first to admit that I would have been a mess in high school if my dad had not been there the whole time. As a teacher, a mentor, the provider of advice, the encouragement to carry on. He was there. Even in college, he has helped me find my way and constantly look forward with hope.

 He thinks a lot of things are really funny. I love that he laughs at so many things.

 If you notice, he and I are on the opposite sides of the group, making the same exact face. That is one of the reasons why this picture is so perfect.

I simple love this man. As far as father's go, he's pretty grand.

And just for side shout-out:

My brothers have turned out to be some pretty fabulous dad's as well. They are incredible. Kind of like their dad.

I don't think I have even come close to accurately describing my love and appreciation for my father. But I tried to do my best. And if I have not accurately shown my love and appreciation for my brothers, I have at least shown you their adorable children (minus Annie, I couldn't find a picture of Keith and Annie, but she's cute too). 

The Good Light

I haven't written in a while. I'd like to say that it's because I've been going on adventures. That my break from school has been life changing, breath taking, and beyond my wildest dreams. That I haven't been writing because I'm too busy baking delicious cupcakes and falling in love with a beautiful man. But that's not really what it is at all. I've read some books, put more miles on my running shoes, watched some spectacular baseball games, and have made some dinero (that means dollars in el espanol). Oh, and I've spent some lovely evenings with some of the most lovely people in my life.

I went home last week and was flooded with questions from people I hardly know anymore. Most commonly, I was asked, "Well what have you been up to?". I always felt like I should have a good answer for that question. Like I should be talking about all the things I've been doing this summer. But I have nothing to say. I simply end up saying that I work a lot. That I sometimes go running. And that I hang out with my friends. Nothing exciting. As these words come out of my mouth, I feel so lame. I can't help but wonder what my life is truly amounting to.

I've been stuck in a rut before. I know what it feels like. My mind keeps telling me that I should feel that way now. But I don't. I feel completely contented with my life. It doesn't make much sense to me. But I do find comfort in the fact that I don't have to do extravagant things to live a happy life.

As it would turn out, happiness can be found anywhere, in anything. Really, as long as you want to be happy. You can find things that will make you happy. I know that sounds silly. Maybe even impossible. Maybe sometimes life just is throwing you some really unhappy things and as much as you want to smile, you can't. But I think that maybe happiness is still possible.

In April, a few of my coworkers were discussing their "themes" for the summer. One said it was her "Summer of Sacrifice", another said "Summer of Self-Improvement", and so on and so forth. At the time, I couldn't think of anything I wanted to accomplish this summer. But I think what is has turned into is the summer of simplicity. Because life doesn't have to be complex to be good.

everything is magic

This week has been an adventure. The happy and unhappy kind. But the good news is that it this week is almost over.

Three years ago, something changed in me. I can't describe it. I can't full express to you why one thing changed my life so much. I can't help but wonder why so many big life events happen to me in the month of April. Particularly around this stretch of time. Yet, April always turns into a month of reflection. Life is not always what we expect it to be. I always say that. But today, as I looked through pictures, I looked into my seventeen year old face and thought, "She never knew what was coming to her. Where I am today was unfathomable then."

Through it all though, this girl is right by my side.

I always say that I don't expect anything in my life, but I do. I have this idealized life set in my mind and until Sunday, I didn't realize that maybe my ideal is not always possible or even what is right for me. Three years ago today, life was strange. I walked through my day unsure and without any of those expectations, I was just living in the time that I was in. 

I didn't understand. I cried a lot. That was the last time I cried. It was confusing and scary and sad. I still sometimes don't understand the why, the how. But I know that my life is worth living. It's worth having those expectations, even if they don't turn out how you planned, sometimes, they turn out different, worse, or even better. And that's when life is sweetest. And expectations are okay, as long as you live in the now too.

I want this post to be respectful. I want this post to say what I feel (though I know that is impossible). No matter how much time passes and how much I look forward. I know that I must look back to remind myself how I got to where I am today. So many people come and go. But even after some of them are gone, their life lingers. And for that, I am so glad.

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.