"i made a promise such a long time ago that i would take in experiences-- all of them, 

so i could tell the people about them and maybe save them, but it gets so tiring.

i try to take in all the experiences for everybody, letting anyone say anything to me. 

and i realized i'm not different. i want what everyone wants. i want all the things.

i just want to be happy."

-girls, hbo

where i find you

i don’t recognize myself

tinted green of jealousy and physical ailment from my selfishness and inability to simply be happy for others
self-loathing so strong my body aches in rejection

i’m often struggling to feel happy at all

where i lack happiness, i lack in compassion and a listening ear

my saving grace has been reliance on the one who has grace enough to save a wreck like me

and a wreck like me really needs saving quite often these days

and out of His grace I find myself no longer wondering, “why is this happening?” instead i ask Him, “what are you trying to teach me with this? what can i learn here?”

i find myself on my knees all of the time. praying for a sign, for an answer, for something

calling out to God for something i can understand

for something that makes sense

for something i can reason with

but reason to me is not reason to Him

this holiday season was of particular difficulty.

overrun by things of least importance, the hustle and bustle and neglect of what really matters, i find myself wishing i could turn back time and do it all over again.

recreate the memories now engrained in time

make new the things i know i can’t change as much i wish i could

but again, i ask “what are you trying to teach me, God?”

i will wait in silence. with any shred of obedience and patience i can find within myself, and where i fail, i will lean on His unending grace with steadfast hope.

for a foolish sinner that is me, i have a God who perfects unconditional love.

-S 

dirty laundry

i met with my mentor yesterday for a few hours over iced tea, which was ironically, or maybe not ironically, called "happiness".
we talked about things i've talked a lot about before; friendships, relationships, figuring out who you are, etc., but never have i understood these things we talked about in this way. she gets what it's like to be me, because now as a married 30-something who used to be a single 20-something like me, she gets its. she gets the heartache of being single. the confusion in self worth. she gets it, she was there once too.
she explained things in a way where i realized i had always felt them too, but i never knew how to explain it, or really never knew where the feelings were coming from:

the feeling i would get after talking to a boy that was just a friend. a really close friend. it has always been so natural for me to go deep in discussion, to want to fix things, to help people with their problems, and in turn also tell them mine. i would tell them everything. secrets and desires spilled out, continuously uprooting myself for them.
and the next day i would wake up exhausted and empty and gross.
i would become so invested in this person, whoever it was at the time, and them in me and the next day i would just feel gross...like an emotional hangover. i never knew that feeling of exhaustion would later turn into regret. regret that i gave too much the night before. too much of my mind, too much of my heart, too much of me.

after tea with her yesterday, i went home and took a shower and still i felt dirty. i let the water fall over me and around me, as i tried and tried to scrub this feeling off my body. i felt not my own. i feel not my own. like there are parts of me scattered all over town, hiding in the hearts of men who didn't want me, but acted like they needed me... oh the danger in feeling needed... pieces of me i couldn't get back even if i tried.
i feel like everybody elses' but mine. and the worst part was that no one took it from me, i gave it away. i gave in to the lie that i was special, that i was his "favorite girl". whoever he was at the time, i always believed it. i found immense comfort and complacent worth in being someones "favorite girl." i always believed them, so i willingly gave myself away.
i feel dirty and used and exhausted. like dirty laundry; worn and dirtied and thrown, no longer useful and in desperate need of washing.

i'm exhausted from being the stand-in.

the girl always used for my mind, my time, my energy, my words, my strength.
wrung out and left to dry over and again by the men in my life who have left after having found the girl to replace the stand-in with. a girl who gave everything i had to give, but the difference was that they wanted to kiss this girl as well.

so right now i feel dirty and empty and exhausted and used. and i think that's a really okay place to be in; totally empty with nothing left to give, and in turn fully reliant on the holy spirit of god to fill me back up with His grace and redeeming love. 

"trust in Him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to Him, for God is our refuge. -psalm 62:8

....pour my heart out to Him, for God is my refuge"


-S

under the same sun

lessons i've learned under the summer sun:
(in no particular order)

---> i can have messy, day-after-the-beach- hair, minimal-to-no makeup on if i want to. and strangely i've never felt prettier than that simplicity.

---> treat sleep as a suggestion rather than necessity some nights. stay up to see the sunrise. have an adventure while everyone is asleep. a lot of life can and should happen in those dark and beautiful hours.

---> i often find myself reverting back to really wanting him. and in that pursuit i continue to lose myself and what i want. over and over.

---> the art of discernment is a lost art. one i'd like to bring back, one i'd like to practice fiercely.

---> sometimes, every great once in a while, the attraction is so strong it can become the bane of your existence. the not-quite-but-almost existential dilemma you've come to over and again; that lust is just that, a child's game. that wanting and having mean two very different things.

---> swimming in the ocean under the moonlight is far better than any alternative.

---> watching fireworks from the roof of your house with your best friends is the best way to do independence day.

---> one day i'll be strong enough to walk away and not leave a single piece of me with him. and that it's OK if i'm just not there yet. 

---> listening to the thoughts and minds of generations before you should be a required practice.

---> to stop saying, "i hope he likes me" and start saying, "i hope i like him."

---> don't be ashamed of where you're at. you'd be surprised to know that most everyone is right there too.

---> one day i'll be enough for myself and from there, everything will follow suit.

-S

let's be frank...

i am made up of the encouraging words of my mum.

of the playful game of hide and seek until dusk.

of the whispers muttered in the dark, withheld from authority

of the decisions crippled by fear.

of the security of constant best friends.

of the reading into moments, when that crush was had on you.

of the division in the family; the only one to carry this perspective.

of the rich smells from nostalgic summers past.

of the uplifting utterance made by the steadfast.

of the "quiet" mockery about the goody-good, in classroom corridors.

of the books and words i have held on to.

i am made up of many parts, weaved together. yet, the struggle lies within remembering. remembering that i am the sum of the parts beautifully weaved together. a myriad of cultivated moments. quirks from this or that. 

while pondering the reality of what consumes my mind most, the unspoken came to my attention. without acknowledgment, i have devoured the lie that i am insufficient. the lie whispering, if i worked dilligently enough, i could become (like) the people who i see are greatly valued. as i swallow my pride to reveal this in the light, truth is i put so much pressure on the way i look or how i am. i have created this idea in my mind that who i am is not enough. the not-so-pretty reality and result is in that little friend we love to hate: mr comparison. they say that comparison is the thief of joy. and boy-oh-boy, i could vouch for that. 

this flawed filter i choose to view myself in, i fear is detrimental to how i love others. and i desire diddly-squat to stop me from loving with everything in me, therefore i must love myself. this is my prayer and my cry to you Lord. save me from self deception & lend me your eyes. 

i am made up of confused paradoxes. and that, that i will cherish.

sincerely, 

B