So just run, run, 

Who needs closure? 

I could just get over

You on my own.

And I could be the One

If you would let me touch your heart,

But I'm not faster than the fears

That gave you your head start,

So, run, run, run....

the wind, it blows, 

and seasons throw

me into age and grace,

light fills the room

in various hues,

and i miss you every day.

the mail, it piles,

my wardrobe styles

both change and stay the same,

the church bell tolls,

the news unfolds,

i miss you every day.

the lines are long,

i love this song,

and then it's overplayed,

movies release,

and roadworks cease,

i miss you every day.

the coffee brews,

alarms are snoozed,

everyone is on their way,

fireworks ablaze,

Happy Holidays, 

and i miss you every day.

memories resonate, 

midnight questions fate

as i solitary lay

in the bed you made

against my gainsay

and i miss you every day.

vibrance will dim,

present will win

over past and faded flames,

eventually,

you'll be over me,

and i'll miss you every day.

Hearts are fragile, but they're brave,

All the more because they break,

To risk a love

-well, it would take

A strength so delicate.

Be delicate with me.

Be loved with me.

Be in between the lines

Of recklessness and fear

Where we can trust what's here,

I trust what's here.

It isn't easy to believe
Beginnings ever do not cease,
To let this in,
Allow release,
Is a chance we both must take.

Believe with me.

Be loved with me.

Come live between the lines 

Of past innocence and tears

Where we can disappear

In safe surrender here.

Don't overthink it, love,

There's too much to conceive,

God is in the details

So we don't have to be,

Some things don't need questioned,

Blessing is a mystery,

Is this how it feels

...to know?

Be delicate with me.

Be loved indeed.

Be in between the lines

Where hopes meet peace.

Be strong with me.

Take my hand and see

We're in between the lines

Of recklessness and fear

And we can trust what's here,

      

          I trust what's here. 

♬ What a thing to believe in a dream... ♬ 

Today a dear friend passed away after a valiant battle in the war that is ALS. I was introduced to this man as Dr. Miller, my high school principal. But he became just "Nick" throughout the years as he was a worship leader at my church, the father of a close friend, and generally an edifying person in my life. 

My senior year of high school was a disaster for me. A complication with my long-standing heart condition rendered me bed-ridden for the first 10 weeks of my final semester. My attendance was sporadic the remaining two months of school as I recovered. If it weren't for my amazing teachers and principal, I would not have graduated. No amount of hard work on my part could have accomplished all I needed to do had they not banded together for me. I consider that success a team effort and a testament to my school. As I carefully climbed the platform steps on graduation day (I'd only been able to walk steadily at this point for just over a month), I approached Dr. Miller beaming with pride, excitement, and relief. He clasped my hand and said, "Congratulations! I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it."

About a year and a half after that precious moment, I found out I was pregnant. Though I will never refer to my son as an accident, the circumstances were definitely unplanned and were a shock to many, including myself. Firstly, I was a bright and intelligent young woman and didn't exactly think it was a wise career move to get pregnant in my freshman year of architecture school. Secondly, my doctors had warned me my heart might not survive pregnancy and delivery. But most importantly, I am and always have been a Christ-follower and this situation was a moral lapse for me. I never turned my back on God or anything, but we all deal with different struggles and weaknesses and the relationship I had been in for half my life was mine. No one was more disappointed in my trespasses than me, though some people surely competed.

I had been an active church member and youth mentor. So I wrote home to several friends and teens that were still in my youth group to break the news myself. I asked for understanding and forgiveness and was surprised to receive it from some people I didn't anticipate. I was also surprised when the one person I especially expected grace from declared how "devastated" they were, and how I had shaken their own beliefs by this immense disappointment in someone they so looked up to. Whew... I can see this with better perspective now, but at the time, it was a knife to the heart.

I returned to my home country from studying overseas to have the baby there. I was just in time to attend graduation at my old high school two full years after my own moment of pride. I questioned going but had friends graduating whom I wanted to support. So I approached the gymnasium in the parking lot, adjusting my maternity dress over my uncomfortable 6-month belly and contemplating my swollen ankles and serious case of pregnancy face (yes, that is a real thing!). I didn't feel very confident, but just as I was about to walk in anyway, an old teacher saw me. She greeted me cheerily and seeing my tattle-tale belly, asked when I'd gotten married with a quizzical expression, no doubt related to my young age. I sheepishly said I was not married to which she replied curtly, "Oh," followed pass-remarkably by, "How disappointing, I expected better from you," before she swiftly left me in the dust without another word. I removed the knife from my heart once more and proceeded to the ceremony with my head held high in feigned pride, where I was met with further looks, questions, and whispers.

I finally mustered up the courage to attend my home church soon after. I had grown up in this church and it was filled with 'aunts' and 'uncles' who knew me better than my own blood relations. Ideally, Christians are meant to understand the need for grace and forgiveness better than most, having humbly received it themselves. And I'm proud to say that many in my community showed me unconditional love and support that went above and beyond. But I had had enough rejection and judgement to make me wary of entering that building, unsure of what reaction awaited me. As my belly led the way, I waddled in, alone and preparing myself for faces of shock and confusion. But instead, the first faces I ran smack-dab into that morning were those of Nick and his wife, Alison. They approached me with their arms around each other with huge, effortless smiles. Beaming with joy, they welcomed me into their embrace and proceeded to say the one thing I had yet to hear throughout this entire experience, "Congratulations!" Then they said they were so excited for me, that they were sure my little one would be a real blessing, and that they knew I'd make a good mother, clasping my hands with a squeeze for encouragement. What's more, there wasn't a hint of pity, insincerity, or disappointment on their faces. Wow...

See, I was well aware of the connotations of my situation. I was aware that my future had been altered; that difficulty lay ahead. I was aware that this was unexpected for my character and that my life would forever face consequences. But I was also aware that not all of those consequences would be bad. One major thing, in fact, would be splendid: my son. I was already aware that I loved him and I was acutely aware that the mourning period for a life that never would be needed to be over to accommodate the life that lay ahead, both for him and for me. People expected me to keep reliving my story and my shame. They wanted my repeated explanations, justifications, and apologies every time it was fresh for them. But I had lived every minute of it and was prepared to be proud of myself again. I couldn't linger in the loss and grief. I was prepared to welcome my son knowing that my shame was not his, my mistakes were not his, and he was and always would be my first-born child. He deserved to be celebrated.

What Nick and Alison did was see past the tragedy and the circumstances to the core truth- that this was a blessing. This was a life. This was a celebration. They congratulated me first on the proudest feat of my life: motherhood. And that simple word spoken over me made me feel less alone and gave me the strength to go take my seat that day with pride that was not feigned, but flowed from deep within and would continue to do so.

The last time I saw Nick was a few years later when I was the mother of a beautiful toddler. It was to say goodbye when he and his wife moved from my home country onto another adventure. I hugged him and said I would miss them. And he looked down on me with that towering, paternal height and in his classic, nonchalant way said, "You're going to be fine. You're a smart girl, you've handled yourself well. I know you're going to do great, do you know that?" I think I answered with some joke to relieve the moment because, for me, there was nothing nonchalant about that kind of affirmation. And I couldn't quite express to him how much it meant to me.

Now, here we are in tragic circumstances where loss and grief abounds. And this is indeed a tragedy that I will not undermine as I sit here with tears and sadness as my company. But I will do what he did for me and see past the circumstances to the core truth and say:

Congratulations, Nick! You have run the race and received the prize for a life well-led, and a legacy left behind. You now get to be with the Lord, whom you served well, and live in freedom and health. I celebrate your life and the effect it had on me and mine. Thank you for the love and grace and example. And know that, until we meet again, we will live out our days on earth with a little added strength because you were here. 

...And I bet you're gracing the heavenly hosts with your mad guitar skills. We love you. We miss you. And we will remember you. Thank you.

Something hurt me yesterday. I saw something and it stung. I've been trying to heal from something recently and this made me feel as though no time had passed at all; like I was stuck, breathless and trapped in the pain with nowhere to turn. As though maybe I always would be. Audrey Assad's album Fortunate Fall has really been ministering to me this week and in the song Good to Me, this one line says, "When I'm bowed down with sorrow, I will lift up your name." And that has been my 'mantra' the past month: no matter what, just praise, just lift up your head to the Lord and focus on Him. When you're hurt and confused and too much of the wrong thing is flooding in around you, just fill every available space with what you know- in your head- to be right. Pray when it hurts, listen to worship music when you can't deal with silence. It won't necessarily work right away, but it'll keep you moving in the right direction at a time when it's far too easy to slide into the wrong direction. It's like exercise; it will hurt at first, but eventually you'll realise you're fitter. But if you spend that same time not exercising, you'll just get more out of shape and farther from where you want to be. I quoted in my senior yearbook the song, "You're my glory and the lifter of my head." Whenever we sang that in church growing up, I imagined kneeling down with my head bowed in sorrow, as Audrey sings, and God gently bending down towards me, placing His finger under my chin and tenderly tilting it towards Him as though to say, "Here I am, child, look at me." 

It never ceases to amaze me how God comes through. I'm not sure if that's good or not. I mean, He always proves himself, when am I gonna stop being shocked? I think what gets me is when He's there for me in subtle ways, in ways He doesn't need to be. He created me, loves me, provides for me- does He have to care about the little things? No. And yet, He does. His eye is on the sparrow, how much more is it on me? I'm supposed to be His servant, and yet He serves me. 

There's a verse that says, "Draw near to God and He will draw near to you." (James 4:8a) And there was a time when I thought that verse was backwards. Why should I draw near to You first? Sometimes I need You to come to me. But I was convicted by the realisation that that verse should really say, "Draw near to Him and you'll find, He was right beside you the whole time." Because God has made ALL the first moves. Please don't forget that. He made us, He loves us, He provides for us, He sent his son to die for us, and then He even granted us free will so that loving Him back would be our choice. He's already near, you just need to lift your head and see it; see past the mess that you're putting in His way. 

I saw this photo on pinterest recently that said, "Head up, princess, your tiara is falling," and it made me smile. When I was pregnant and feeling shameful walking back into my home church for the first time, with a 6-month belly leading the way in, one of the first worship songs sung that day said, "I'll trade these ashes in for beauty and wear forgiveness like a crown." And I felt God in that moment bend down, tilt my head towards Him and say, "You can't wear a crown with your head bowed in shame." It was such a little moment, fleeting almost in its fragility. And yet, He spoke to me, subtly, in a time when I truly needed something gentle and reassuring to quietly pierce through the chaos, guilt, and anguish. He's my glory and the lifter of my head. He's God and yet He's there for me. Wow... It's crazy how some things come full circle; how God teaches us the same lessons over and over at different points in our lives to reinforce their truth. God has given me a crown. I'm a daughter of the King; a princess. So, head up, princess.

So, as I drove home from work yesterday, I flooded myself with worship music once more just to fill the space with as much of the right thing as I could. And I talked to Him saying, "God, it just hurts. It hurts too much, I can't not see it, I don't know what to do." And I just felt Him say, "Then don't look at it, look at me. Lift your eyes up to the mountains where your help comes from. I'm right here. I love you and what you lost is not as good as what you have in me. You still have me, just keep looking at me." Because when you look down, you see the problem and the mess. It's all in your face and it's all you can see, the negativity, the wrong stuff. It narrows your scope. But God gives us the chance to be lifted out of it, to give the burden to Him to carry so we can just gaze upon His glory. Amazing... So I cried the whole way home focused on the beautiful sunshine framing the clouds on that blessedly Spring-ish day placing the image of His love in front of the painful one. And the Maker of all things ministered to me and reminded me of His love for me all night. You're just too good to me, God. You're my glory. You're the lifter of my head. You are good to me.

Joel 2:25, "I will give you back what is lost/ I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten..."

Psalm 34:18, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

in good times and bad,

i will praise You,

when happy or sad,

You're the one who

provides my every need

and reminds me to believe

You're in control, 

and there's no impossible.

I love you, bunny! 

I'm proud of you and pray that this year is your best one so far full of lots of love, laughter, discovery, and joy. Can't imagine a life without you in it.

Bonne Anniversaire, mon coeur!


You were born to make this right, you were born to change this life, you were born to chase the light.

Based on a few discussions I've had with girl friends, I've been analysing recently what there is to the bad boy allure. Now, there's the obvious stupidities, but I should've long outgrown those. Not only am I no longer a teenager but as a teenager, I dated the tortured soul I was trying to save and I've more than learned from my mistakes. I will always be someone who sees potential, looks for the good and then tries to promote those qualities in that person. I think that makes me a good person and, often, a good friend. But if my past relationships have taught me anything it's that when someone has potential- it's just that! Potential. Meaning: They aren't there yet and they still have the potential to not actualise their gifts. It doesn't mean you were wrong about them it just means they had a choice and, sometimes, they make the disappointing choices and that's beyond your control. Walk away. Post haste.

So, I've had my fill of fixer uppers and am ready to just be with someone who comes ready-made, already! Boys need not apply. Men only. Thank you. But then why am I insanely attracted to Mark Wahlberg for all the seemingly wrong reasons? And why, when I met a nice, squeeky-clean, Christian sweetheart of a guy a couple years back did I call my sister and discuss why we can't seem to be attracted to guys who don't have an edge? Why do we complain about guys being jerks, then find a guy who's actually made it to adulthood intact and not reward him for that strength with anything more than friendship? Basically, because girls have been conditioned by fictional love stories that work out in the end to equate drama with the beginning stage of epic love and, therefore, feel without it, there is a lack of some necessary spark. Sadly, we don't seem to move on once that 'stage' becomes an actual state. But guys out there, don't rag on those romantic movies and stories too much because, in all fairness, you've done your fair share of sucking, too. And if we weren't stupid enough to give you second, third, and 100th chances in the hopes of getting that love story, there'd hardly be any couples in this world and the global population would suffer drastically. So, yes, my gender has its stupid moments (and the opposite gender has its jerky moments, too) but I resent that being the explanation for my issue after all I've been through. Surely, I'm too smart for this! Then what is it? 

I thought about it and realised I might actually have some healthy reasons for this attraction inclination: 

1.) For one, as much as I'm a "good girl"- I've never done drugs, never smoked, never been drunk, and have generally lead a lifestyle pursuing Christ- I'm hardly perfect. I've made Mistakes (and yes, that is a capital M) and have needed a lot of forgiveness in my life. I'm a redeemed soul by God's grace for the lack of judgement I've had in my past... and, er, present. It's an ongoing process and always will be. And while we all 'sin and fall short of the glory of God,' I feel like those who haven't made a good ol' monumental mistake don't grasp forgiveness the way I need my partner to. I know that I used to not understand how one could sink to certain levels because I hadn't and, pridefully, believed I couldn't.  Some people are just stronger and better people than others, right? But I have since done things that are so out of character and shameful that I need someone who knows, first hand, that you can do things that aren't you and still be you. I am not my screw ups, I'm the person you see in between them and when you've been there- truly been there and looked in the mirror and thought, "What the heck just happened?!"- you learn to see others for who they are 'in between' as well and appreciate the strength it takes to get yourself back to being your true self after each fall. You realise it's only because of God's victory that you are ever truly victorious anyway and there's empathy, understanding, and forgiveness. The 'bad boy' understands grace and can remind you who you truly are and I need that. 

2.) Secondly, as I just said, there's a strength in rebounding from mistakes. I'm not saying there isn't a strength in avoiding mistakes either, because there definitely is and kudos to those of you who are, humanly-speaking, monumental-mistake-free in general. Well done. Truly. I'm also not saying I want someone with a ton of un-dealt with baggage, because that's not it either. In fact, what I'm saying is, I wanna know that you have 'dealt with' baggage. I want to know that life has thrown you some curve balls, you've been humbled by making mistakes but you have picked yourself up and decided to be stronger. You've decided to take life lessons and learn from them and they've taught you to deal with conflict and failure and be better for it. The 'bad boy' is strong, not damaged, and can be strong for you, too.

3.) Someone who has been through the fallout of life's negative experiences has had to make one of the most difficult spiritual decisions one can make: whether or not to truly.....T-ah-RULY submit everything to God. I've known plenty of Christians who proclaim that Jesus overcomes and heals and redeems, yet they hold onto their hurt and let it affect them indefinitely. I guess I want to be with someone who has downright messed up because sooner or later, we all do. And I need to know that when you do, whenever that day comes, that you'll be capable of forgiving yourself and allowing God's redemptive power to truly permeate your spirit and life. I need to know that you're not the kind of person who kicks yourself forever or drags your family into the dysfunction you've allowed to set up camp in your soul. To lead my family, you need to know how to go to God and give up the things that will get in the way of you, and us, living a life of freedom. The 'bad boy' has learned to fully accept redemption and is therefore capable of being the leader of our pack. (That was SUPER cheesy, but I had to do it. You know I had to...)

So I guess it's not fair to say I'm straight up attracted to actual bad boys, which is why I've put that term in quotes above. I just want someone who has enough life experience to forgive and be forgiven, to leave mistakes behind, and to be stronger for it. I don't want someone who messes me about and makes me feel insecure, like real bad boys do- I actually want someone who gives me security. I guess the 'squeeky-clean' guys don't generally appeal to me because I, maybe mistakenly, feel there's slight judgement or naivety to be found there. And maybe, admittedly, that's not fair and most likely not always true. But what is true and fair is that those guys just wouldn't be compatible with me and I'm probably not what they're looking for either! So maybe I'm not totally dysfunctional for my attraction to Marky-Mark cuz I know he could throw a punch! From what I know of him, he's come a long way in his life. And that's the most attractive 'manly' quality of all. Maybe I just admire the strength involved in overcoming a less than perfect past and want to know that my man- my grown up, non-boy of a man- will appreciate that in me, too.

This video is hilarious. Subscribe to all these guys cuz they're super funny and entertaining!

love has always been against the odds for me

yet i wait patiently and faithfully...

and i still believe in fairytales,

that in the nick of time

he will be mine

as i'm facing defeat.

and i still believe in fairytales,

i'm just a loving girl

who still deserves

to be swept off her feet,

and i still believe.

on a white horse or in a Mustang,

i don't care how he comes, as long as he stays,

...and i still believe.

i don't even know why it is
i loved the last one,
soon it will be the same for you.
it's so hard looking back
when you're already in the next chapter,
but i really want to hold onto the truth.

so i write about it, and i sing about it,
it's the only thing i know how to do-

the way you looked into my eyes
the way you'd seem so satisfied
when i'd say, "hey, babe,"
sometimes i even miss it now
the way you'd kiss my brow as i'd vow:
'when this is through
i promise to remember you.'


will you remember?
say you'll remember-
could you please remember....


me?

I love you, but I hope she'll love you more
I love you, but it's time for letting go,
I'm letting go.

I love you, but I hope she'll love you more,
I love you, but it's time for letting go,
I'm letting go.

I love you, but I hope she'll love you more,
I love you, but it's time for letting go,
I love you, but your life awaits and so does mine,
I love you, but I trust somehow we'll both be fine,
I love you, but I hope she'll love you more,
I love you, but it's time for letting go,
I'm letting go...

I'm letting go.

So, these are some photos I took at my friend's wedding that I attended last April (scanned from film prints and then facebook-copied so the resolution sucks, I know!). I met the bride in 4th grade and despite having sporadic bouts without contact, we seem to have gone through some similar things in our lives over the years and have remained friends.

Something I haven't even told her (ha~) is that I was a little nervous for her when I heard she was engaged and that the date was set. She met this guy, got engaged and had the wedding planned all within about a year. I'm a long engagement type of person, but I remembered she and I having had a conversation a few years earlier in a period of our mutual singledom where she'd said that once she knew she wanted to share her life with someone, she would just want to start that life as soon as possible. (Very When Harry Met Sally:)


So, I went to the wedding and met her now-husband for the first time at the rehearsal dinner. They had nine people on either side of their wedding party and I sat there- eating some pretty sweet pasta with the looming threat of a group dance lesson for wedding preparation immediately following (it's super hard for someone my height to dance with a guy who's so tall, each one of his strides is about the length of my entire leg! haha...)- and listened to all these stories these friends were telling about this couple. It was no surprise to me that my own friend is awesome and loved by many. She's beautiful, has a heart for God, and is a total catch on so many levels. Was this man worthy of my amazing friend? Apparently... yes. (Well, as worthy as any man is of an excellent woman. I'm pretty sure he gets that;)


Here's something that I was not aware I'd been doing until that moment. See, I'm in my mid-twenties and a lot of guys my age are not grown up yet. Some, I fear, will never really assume the role of a mature, godly man. I'm not saying you can't be youthful at my age- in fact, please feel free to be youthful at any age. But there's a difference between youthful and juvenile. People ask me why I'm single- that's an awesome question by the way, thanks for asking! And despite having had past reasons like, "It's a transitional period in my life- I'm not over my last relationship- I need time for me/my son right now," the answer recently has been: "I haven't found a guy who is what I need, let alone anything extra that I want." And I'd slowly been internalising this belief that I would eventually have to settle for a guy that was a decent Christian and relatively mature, even if he wasn't even where I was in those arenas.


But then, I sat at this table hearing nine- count them: nine- men, and I will use the word men here, who all supported each other and this groom and edified God in their lives and relationships with each other and their significant others. These guys assured my friend that she was marrying a man who could truly be the head of their household and that hit me like a ton of bricks. See, my household consists of me and a 6-year-old. Look around... there's no one else. So who's the spiritual head of my household? Me. Someone needs to be, so it's me and while I feel I am capable of leading my son spiritually, I don't want to settle for a decent Christian guy. I want a man who can lead a woman like me. And not to be conceited, but I'm worth more than decent. For the feminists out there, I'm not saying I will be any less than a full partner in my marriage... but that's exactly why he shouldn't be any less than one either. And I also know that my God, who has brought me this far making me the woman I am and my son the amazing character he is, has not done so only to deliver someone who is less than what we need... and deserve.


I realised I'd been preparing myself to settle, but the wedding that followed the next day was so full of peace. I'd never seen a bride so jitter-less or a couple so soundly excited in the anticipation of their future and confident that this step they were taking together was divinely appointed and that they had found the partners they were meant to find. I want that- and nothing less. So, why am I single? Because I have yet to have any relationship prospects that are what I actually need. And what do I essentially need? I could run you through a list, but here's the overall point: I need a man who can be the spiritual head of my household because whoever can be that will be the other things I need. He will be an example to my son of what a man should be. He will respect me and cherish me. He will be capable of shouldering the burdens of my family's life and the battles we encounter spiritually. And if God took the time to make me the multi-faceted person that I am, I'm pretty sure He won't have forgotten to add in the other details I would need to feel understood that involve music, creativity, travel, humor, etc. So, I guess the even shorter overall point is, I need the man God made with me in mind. I don't expect perfection by any means, but I do expect something worth the wait so I will continue to trust, and in the meantime continue to make myself someone worth waiting for...


Sometimes songs with no words say everything you mean...

a prisoner of complexity,

you don't trust me with your love,

through intricacy of imperfection

you beg for answers from above,

but when the sun shines across your face

you're so beautiful-

my God, you're beautiful,

your life awaits much grace

but you don't care,

you just don't care,

you know how when you break up with someone, certain things that you loved become associated with memories of that person and, as an extension, the pain that eventually came from them? and then these things that you enjoyed now make you hurt because, ironically, they remind you of being happy- but in a way that you can't be again because it was a uniquely patented happiness distributed by that particular relationship over which you've lost the rights. if this sounds a little official, it's because it feels official. divorces are settled in court and everything is legally divided and dissolved. but when you break up with someone you're not married to, you still lose things; they still get half of what you shared with them rendering your half useless and painful to look at because it's so obviously no longer what it was. anyway, the point here? a few years back, i had one of these emotional severances which left me feeling that i'd lost things i had loved- like places i'd gone to, music, and even mutual friends. some of my favourite songs were lost in that breakage because they were all tied up in the memory of this relationship. after not listening to some of my fav songs and bands for about a year, i slowly started reclaiming them by forcing myself to listen to them and allowing them to be associated with happiness and enjoyment once again. it's really sad when hellogoodbye makes you cry! and now they don't:) i wrote a song a couple years back that had this part that said, "i no longer cry when i hear hellogoodbye. i don't even see you when i'm in my own guestroom. babe, i'm not sure where you are, but it's not in my guitar- these things are mine." it's important to disentangle the things you still need to live a functional life from the pain of memories you can and should no longer live with daily. but i was watching Made of Honor the other day which i hadn't seen since it came out in the cinema and i remembered how in the end, when the credits rolled to this song, i'd left as quickly as possible. so, watching it the other day made me realise that, in my musical therapy a couple years ago, i'd forgotten to reclaim this particular song!! i haven't heard it in years, so, i now made sure to do that and am listening to it, as i type, with nothing but appreciation for its wistful nostalgia. you stole my heart many moons ago, (btw, i also got that back;) but you can't steal my music, thank you very much!

don't let things you loved be lost to you forever. chances are, the person or situation which took custody of them from you in the first place isn't worth denying yourself something that was a part of you and has the right to still be.

I am worth the effort;
worth the risk.
How do you expect
love to subsist
when you keep it to yourself?
Fight for me
and together we
will fight whatever's left.

(happy alone♬)

This might be kinda long, so if you'd like to opt out of reading this post, go ahead guilt-free. I just need to get it out. I've been thinking a lot recently about who it is I want to be in terms of who I am now. My facebook 'about me' section says:

"I'm a crazy, passionate romantic. I'll dance with you anywhere. I'm a good mother cuz I have a great son. I'm a good friend. I'll go the whole 90 yards for the people I love. I love too much, but I don't think that's a flaw. I love God and find I'm stronger for depending on Him. I'm still a little bit of an idealist and I hope that never changes. I get lost in music. I feel free when I'm horse-riding. I see pictures in everything so I take as many as I can. I think any surface can be a canvas. I'm overly verbal but prefer that to miscommunication. I never think that it's too late for anything. I aspire to always be able to say that I am currently the best version of myself. I have been broken down, but with God's help I have risen from the ashes every time so far. So bring on the next potential heartache cuz I haven't even begun to love to the full extent and I will always refuse to hold back. Always..."

That was long, huh? Kinda like this post...I wrote that a couple years ago. I'm not sure I'm always moving in the right direction. Sometimes, I think I'm just taking steps back and I look at the person I used to be, the girl who wrote that, and think, "I wish I were still her." I aspire to always be able to say that I'm currently the best version of myself. I don't know that I can say that right now.

I am someone who can say truthfully, in understatement fashion, the phrase, "I've been hurt before." I heard Shontelle's Impossible recently and felt like it was a tribute to my last heartbreak. I know what it's like to feel like someone made a fool out of you simply by making you love and trust them. Somehow you're the chump because you opened up and allowed intimacy. I know what it's like to be in so much emotional pain, you can hardly move under the physical weight of it. But I don't want to be someone who lives my life like someone who's been hurt. I've already played the role of stupid chick dating the jock jerk who doesn't deserve her as the cinema audience roots for the nice guy best friend she seems to always overlook. Problem was, I went for the nice guy best friend as well, in a conscious effort to no longer be stupid chick, only to end up being more hurt because the trust was higher and expectation for pain lower. I felt like a whole new kind of stupid chick. I'm now in no mood to assume another clichéd role of damaged chick who's been hurt before.


I don't want to not have learned from my past mistakes or others' mistakes perpetrated on me, but I also don't want to be jaded by my past either. My heart is worth guarding, but not hiding. I'm definitely someone who qualified as a hopeless romantic. I'm not normally the kind of girl who thinks any romantic gesture is too 'mushy' as long as the right feelings are behind it. Despite my sarcastic veneer, I'm hard to gross out on the love-meter and fully acknowledge I can be a yucky, ooshy romantic myself and was always defiantly proud of it. But I wonder if at this point in my increasing singledom (and yes, singledom does increase with time!) I'd even know how to react to any of that. Those who know me best say I give off a 'no, thanks' vibe. Now, that's definitely something I project purposefully when I'm out for the night with my friends and some strange guy approaches me. But do I give off that vibe always? Am I so unprepared to risk getting hurt again that I also can't risk being happy again? If that's the way I've behaved, I haven't meant to. I also didn't mean to become this version of me I've unraveled into. Am I still someone who deserves to be with the guy who deserves to be with me? (If you didn't get that, read it again but it doesn't entirely make sense, so don't worry if you're still lost;)

I'd like to feel that I'm getting to that place of balance where I can accept my past hurts for how they benefit me and can reject them in the ways they'd hinder me. Maybe I can't entirely be that girl again. Maybe it'd be unwise to be as open as I used to be. There should be some effort involved, I'm worth that- and maybe acknowledging this is one of those beneficial lessons I needed to learn. But I've been listening to Paramore's The Only Exception (still not sure if it's a good thing that I relate to it) and I'd like to think that when the right exception comes along, I'd allow it and that we'd find ourselves mutually deserving of the kind of love that's worth the risk and merits my trust again... and some yucky, mushy ooshiness.