Food for thought for all you gentlemen and boys.

This one is addressed to the male population of the world, because I feel you need it. Consider this my gift to you as a woman. I'm doing you a favor here, I promise you that. So listen up.

I have run into some firsthand issues when dealing with men recently and it has been frequent enough that I feel the need to help you out and offer up a tiny morsel of womanly insider trading knowledge. You're going to want to continue reading. I guarantee it.

Gentlemen (and the rest of you males), hear me and hear me well. When a woman tells you that she does not want a relationship/boyfriend, take that as truth. Do not ask questions. Do not read further into it. Do not think that you are going to be the guy that changes her mind about that. Take what she says at face value. Respect her wishes and save yourself the trouble. Understand that she means what she's saying, accept that, move on, save your precious time and energy for someone who is going appreciate you and actually give you a second of her time, and call it a day.

This girl that you are currently trying to sweep off her feet is not interested. Plain and simple. And more likely than not, she is honestly and sincerely trying her hardest not to hurt your feelings by letting you down easy. It may be that she is genuinely not interested in having a boyfriend at this point in time, but it might also be that she is even more genuinely not interested in you. Period. I can almost guarantee that this girl responds to you with one word answers, never talks to you first, and doesn't suggest hanging out. Ever. In any way. She answers your questions and politely turns down your offers, but very little else. Sound familiar? These are all sure-fire signs of a woman who has no interest in building a relationship with you. So, for your own sake, take the hint. It really is in your best interest to give up the chase this time. In this case, the more times you swing does not increase your chances of hitting a home run. You're going to strikeout. Every time. You have my word.

And just because I really do care about the men of the world, I'm going to provide you with a little added bonus. We're going to have a lightning round of what NOT to do if you're trying to get the girl. DO NOT, under ANY circumstances ever: try to pry information out of her, insult her exes no matter how big of jerks they were or how much she may resent them, blame her...for ANYTHING, try to compare your situation to hers (It's not the same, stop trying to make her think you have things in common. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND. Period.), act like her boyfriend, call her pet names, remind her that she is emotionally unavailable (Believe me, she knows.), be clingy and/or needy, try to talk to her every minute of everyday, rush her, play the pity card, ask her out multiple times if she's already turned you down (She's not playing hard to get. Get that out of your head.), try to use her as your rebound girl, stalk her (either physically or the cyber variety), try to be a home wrecker, interpret her sarcasm as flirtation, or be pushy with her (persistence is not always flattering). But, most importantly, NEVER disregard the things she says because it's not what you want to hear. Selectively listening is not cute. NONE of these things are going to drive her into your arms. Just take my word for it.

Now that we've taken care of what NOT to do, let me educate you on what actually works. Here are some things that us ladies do find attractive: Sincerity and honesty. Genuine chivalry. Having a clever, intelligent sense of humor. Respecting our space. Treating us as equal human beings. Being able to take a hint and read the signs. Being able to hold a substantial and even thought provoking conversation. Allowing us to move at our own pace and not trying to rush us into things. Accepting us exactly as we come. Being true to your word. Having genuine concern for other people and their feelings. Approaching life with humility. Being a decent human being. It's really very simple, we're not asking for much. The good girls are looking for nice guys. Be one. Simple as that.

This all may come off a bit harsh, but a little tough love never hurt anyone. So, now that you have a little lesson in Not Being A Total Tool 101 under your belt, go out and show the world what you have learned. You might even find that being a legitimately nice guy is better than whatever it was you thought you were doing before. It may take some practice, but I have faith in you. In the meantime, you're welcome.

Self destructing and living to tell the tale.

I will be the first to admit that I am an expert at hurling myself into dangerous situations, especially when it puts my sanity or emotional welfare on the line. It's one of the many quirks I have acquired over two decades of life. I'm a firm believer in taking risks and eliminating the "what if" dilemma as much as humanly possible. Although I have become rather proficient in choosing the "right" battles, I don't exactly have it down to a science. For the most part, I know when to put up a fight and when to back down and admit that it just isn't worth it. However, in either case, I'm usually not great at saving myself simultaneously. On the contrary, I'm quite good at haphazardly causing myself pain. I'm a self-proclaimed masochist. I'm not an impulsive person and I know very few people who might describe me in that way. But I am a passionate person. And this is the sparkling attribute that gets me into trouble nine times out of ten.

I'm the "all or nothing" type. I don't believe in doing things halfway or settling for mediocre, or really anything less than extraordinary. I work hard for my dreams and even harder to keep the ones that have already come true. I don't fall in love often, but when I do, I fall harder and deeper and more thoroughly than is probably advisable to my health. However, this predicament then plots me at the exact opposite end of the spectrum as well. I fall apart precisely the same way: harder, deeper, and more thoroughly than should be physically possible. And the worst part of all of this is that I'm usually the one to drive myself to this point of ridiculously unreasonable destruction.

It was rather recently that I found myself caught in the midst of another one of my own absolutist webs. It was frightening, to say the least. I existed in a very dark place within myself for a very long time. For an indistinguishable expanse of time, I lost myself. Not completely, but just close enough to the point of destruction where I constantly felt as though I was drowning. The past few years have been rocky. So much has changed and I, in turn, have changed with it all. I've lost people close to me, I've had my heart broken repeatedly, I've sacrificed myself on more occasions than I care to quantify, and I've allowed myself to fall into traps I swore I was too smart to fall into. There are a handful of people I could place the blame on, but it's time to be an adult and take responsibility for my own misguided behavior. With that being said, no one, and I mean absolutely no one, is to blame for all of these downfalls but myself. I made these mistakes because I was, and am, naive. I thought that I knew better, that I was wiser and a more seasoned human being than I actually was. I trusted people that I shouldn't have. I believed words that had no weight or truthfulness at their core. I got too close to people I should have stayed far, far away from. I forgot who I was. I forgot to remember my faith, my beliefs, and the promises that come along with that. I forgot what was important. And then I fell apart.

I tell you all of these things not to complain (although, it does sound a lot like complaining), but to offer up myself as a living testament of someone who has fallen apart so absolutely and somehow still managed to pick herself up and put the shambles of a person she had become back together. This is one of the principal reasons I write at all. I write what I know, what I have experienced firsthand, and what I feel could possibly be beneficial to someone who may stumble upon it. This time, it's a story of recovery.

Losing yourself is terrifying. Self destructing like I did is certainly not something that I would ever classify as "fun." But I think it's important to go through things like that. I think we need those dark times in our lives because we're human, and therefore stubborn. We need to fall down sometimes in order to realize that we can't do it all on our own. We need to be humbled every once in a while. As much as it hurts and as scary as it is while you're in the middle of the storm, if you're able to stay afloat long enough to feel the calm, it somehow makes it all worthwhile. There's a purpose behind the trials we endure. Sometimes we just have to be patient and wait for those purposes to make themselves evident. But no matter what, we gain something at the end of all of it. We learn, we heal, we grow, and we ultimately change. We come to terms, we learn to appreciate all the things that go right, and we keep going. It's essentially the cycle of life.

I've been through a raging fire or two in my lifetime and I have no doubt that I'll have to battle my way through a few more before my time is done. I don't know when they will come or what they will be characterized by, but of a few things I am absolutely sure. I'm sure it will be difficult. I'm sure it will feel like an eternity while I'm in the middle of it. I'm sure it will leave me with scars that will never completely fade. And I am sure that it will be worth it. We're thrown in the middle of storms, not to be punished or destroyed, but to be strengthened and bettered when all is said and done.

So now I can stand here, in one piece, and admit that I've made mistakes and admit that I was wrong, truthfully, hopelessly wrong. And confess that I wouldn't take any of it back. If given the chance, I wouldn't ask for a "do over" because everything I have done, both good and bad, has brought me here to this point. It's a place of contentment and acceptance. It's the place that I've been searching so desperately for all this time. I can breathe here. It's safe. I'm happy. I've been waiting a long time to be able to say that. It's time to move on now. And I'm finally ready to do just that.

Forgetting to be thankful and remembering why that's ridiculous.

Thanksgiving is a day of paying homage and giving recognition to the things in our lives for which we are thankful. But, unfortunately, I was having the hardest time feeling gratitude all day long. Everything inside of me felt off and wrong and I simply couldn't find it in me to embrace that overwhelming feeling of thanks that usually envelopes my entire self during this time of year. And, frankly, it made me absolutely disgusted with myself.

Holidays have been a little different for my family the last couple of years. And by different, I mean weird. Not bad, just weird. There are reasons for this and we're all aware of them, but this Thanksgiving was more so than the last few holidays that we've all gotten to spend together. My family isn't really one for traditions and I have always been the only one that actually outwardly expresses much excitement for the holiday season, so I know that wasn't what made it feel so off. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that my family is already relatively small and missing even one person - which we were this year - has a big impact. Maybe I just got overly excited which in turn shot my expectations for the day through the roof, which is probably very likely. I have that tendency.

I've always wanted to have a big family (although, ideally, it would preexist since I don't really want kids of my own) that has their own special holiday traditions that they follow faithfully and great, big gatherings that last all day and involve a lot of catching up, laughter, and reminiscing. I have always wanted a traditional family, as hard to believe as that is. But that's not what I've been given. I've been given a family that's a little unconventional and more than a little crazy. I've been given a family that is more sarcastic than affectionate. I've been given a family that can fit around one table at gatherings and doesn't have to yell across the room to get someone's attention. I've been given a family that knows that we love each other despite all of our dysfunction even if we don't say it often enough. I have been born into a family that is perfectly made for me. That is something to be thankful for.

As much as I might think that I want a perfect, huge, cookie cutter family, I know that the one that I have is better than any other I could make up in my own dreams. I'd give my life for any one of them and adore them with every part of myself. That goes for my family that is both biological and not. My family and I have been blessed with so many amazing, special people who have come into our lives and hearts and become a very important part of our family. I have sisters with whom I share no blood relation, brothers that care for and protect me like their lives depend on it, uncles and aunts that have no genetic link to my parents, and a dad whose last name I do not share and eyes I do not have, but who loves and accepts me as his own daughter and has been the greatest example of what a Godly man is. For all of these people and their presence in my life as well as my family's, I feel eternally grateful and blessed. I thank God everyday for allowing me to know them and be a small part of their lives.

And I am thankful beyond words for my roommate and best friend. She is a saint to be able to deal with me 24 hours a day, 7 days a week and she is such a blessing in my life. I know without an ounce of doubt that God put her in my life for so many reasons and I couldn't be more grateful that He has. No matter how frustrated she gets with me, or how long she has to wait for me to get ready, she will always take the time to listen to me go on and on (and on) about the same things time after time and even cry with me if the occasion demands. She knows all of my mistakes, regrets, and flaws and still loves and embraces me despite them. That is more than I could ever ask from anyone. She is my other half, my better half, and the hand that's always there to help me up when I fall or just hold tight when I'm falling apart. We drive each other crazy and argue like an old married couple, but I wouldn't trade her for the world.

I'm also thankful for the little things. I'm thankful that I laugh more often than I cry, that I have more friends than enemies, that I have the opportunity to get a quality education, that I have friends whom I've been able to keep over great amounts of time and distance. I am thankful for the mistakes I have made and the lessons that followed. I am thankful for good days and rainy days and days when I'm just content with existing. I am thankful that I have people who support and feed my dreams. I am thankful for the sights, sounds, and smells that I am constantly surrounded by and that I am able to experience them all. I am thankful for all of the doors that have been opened for me and even those that have been shut. I am thankful for the divine council that I receive when I seek it and the God that I love. I am thankful for all of these things and that is something to never forget.

And finally, but maybe most of all, I'm thankful for my actual family, the one I share a bloodline with. I'm thankful for my beautiful, wonderful, talented, hilarious, crazy sisters. They are such amazing women and I sometimes can't believe I'm related to them because of how different we are, but I don't think I have the capacity to love them anymore than I do. I'm thankful for my beautiful babies, otherwise known as my niece and nephew. They are such blessings in my life and all those they touch. Their presence in my life fills me with a joy I've never known and a love I didn't know I was capable of. I'm thankful for my grandma who had such a huge hand in raising me. I don't know what I would do without her or what kind of person I would be if it wasn't for her. She makes me both laugh and cry like no one else can. I love her so much and I am so grateful for the times I get to spend with her. I'm thankful for a mother who couldn't have done a better job of raising me and loving me unconditionally. I don't think anyone could believe in their children anymore than my mom does if they tried. We have had an indescribable bond since day one. We disagree like any normal mother and daughter, but at the end of the day, she is the only person I want there when I have nothing left and want to break down. She is my rock and the greatest mother I have ever known. I don't have the family I have always dreamed of, I have one that is beyond any I could dream up.

So, this is what I know. We are not handed whatever we desire, we are given what we need, what is best for us, and what will ultimately mold us into the people we are destined and created to become. Remember that everything you have could be gone in an instant. Don't waste a single moment taking any of it for granted. Love what you have, and who you have. Say "I love you" and hug each other more often than might be necessary. Don't stay angry and don't ever forget that you are exactly where you are supposed to be. Give thanks. Always. Because there is so much in this world to be thankful for. I know that now.

Thoughts and things like that.

I believe that life is not worth living if it is not done with passion and purpose. I believe that the best kisses are those that have been long awaited, slow and gentle, underscored by a strong sense of longing in the purest sense. I believe that vulnerability is a virtue and the truest indicator of great strength. I believe that silence often has greater power than words. I believe that genuine humility and a natural, intelligently clever sense of humor are the most attractive assets. I believe that each of our stories are purposefully orchestrated and entangled in such a way that one cannot exist without the other. I believe the best conversations happen at 3 a.m. I believe that we fall in love with the wrong person because they are right for us at the time. I believe that beauty is not selective, but lives in every single living thing. I believe that timing really is everything. I believe that scars of all kinds are signs that one has truly lived. I believe that the saddest people are the best at hiding it. I believe that letting go is the most challenging feat for human beings. I believe that blood is infinitely thicker than water. I believe the best moments in life are the ones that weren't planned. I believe spontaneity is necessary. I believe you have to allow yourself to lose yourself every once in a while. I believe to truly love someone, you have to forget what you want and realize what you both need. I believe that sometimes walking away is the strongest thing you can do. I believe that life is a beautiful thing. I believe that amazing things will happen if you let them. I believe that when you leave your life in God's hands, you will find peace.

I believe that one day this will all make sense.

Standing at the corner of So Close and So Far.

I like projects. They keep my mind occupied and my hands busy. So, I tend to take on one new project after another, after another, after another. It's an endless cycle, but it keeps me sane. They're usually small, inconsequential and only semi-productive little tasks since I'm not creative or crafty enough to get very elaborate with them. This is just a little background information that may be useful to know before I go on...

I started a new project recently. It's a short term kind of thing. And, honestly, it sounds a little silly when you say it out loud. Since Taylor Swift's new album just came out about a week ago and she inspires me in ways that I can't even explain, I decided to honor her and her incredible new album by going through the track list and dedicating a day to each song in order from the day the album was released. Each day, I have chosen my favorite (or sometimes just the most applicable) line in each song and quoted it via Facebook. It's one of my tiniest projects thus far, but I somehow felt obligated to go through with it. Today was the 7th day of this project, so it was dedicated to the 7th song on the album, "I Almost Do." The song is gorgeous, for lack of a better word. Not to mention, it really hits home, as I'm sure many girls would be able to say about this very song. But, for me, it dawned on me in a very eerie way that it was a strange coincidence that today of all days was the one dedicated to this specific song.

As I listened to the song, listening carefully to each lyric, one verse felt almost as if it were piercing swiftly through my chest as it filled it my mind:

"We made quite a mess, babe. It's probably better off this way. And I confess, babe, in my dreams you're touching my face and asking me if I want to try again with you. And I almost do."

It couldn't have been more perfectly worded or any more perfectly wounding in the most heartbreakingly beautiful way. It has almost been five months now. Five months since I have been on my own, emotionally speaking. Five months since my world was thrown into a chaotic hurricane of paralyzing silence and numbing confusion. And I was really starting to feel like I was coming out of the end scenes of that nightmare. I was finally able to admit that this is the way that it's supposed to be, and we weren't right for each other, and that I'm better off without that relationship and that person as such a definitive factor in my world and I would never, ever get myself into something like that again. I was actually believing all of these things, too.

Then last night came, as if on cue, to lull me to sleep away from my fleeting daily nightmare into an actual dream that shook me nearly to the point that I was at five months ago. He walked in, looking exactly as I remember and sat down on my bedroom floor. As he sat there, he just watched me and asked me all of the questions I've been dreading giving the answers to. He asked about the things that happened after everything ended, everything I was trying to keep from him, everything I was feeling, everything that I knew would stab us both through the deepest chambers of our minds simultaneously. And then finally, when I had told him everything he didn't want to hear and I didn't want to admit, he just looked up at me and asked me if we could try again and make things right, the way we had always planned. And I couldn't give him an answer. But I almost did.

I don't believe in coincidence. I believe in fate, like the naive, twenty-year-old girl that I am. I know I'm not supposed to believe that dreams carry any weight in communicating anything from a subconscious state to a conscious one, but some things are simply impossible to ignore. This was one of them. I won't end this with some profound, inspiring revelation of a conclusion, because there isn't one. Not yet. All I know is that I just have to wait and see. A very wise person recently advised me not to base my future on my present circumstances. So, I will wait. For what, I'm not entirely sure. But I will sit patiently, awaiting whatever brilliant beam of light is destined to illuminate this dark spot in my path. Every nightmare must end at some point. At least, that's what they keep telling me...

Home.

Home is where the heart is. Home, sweet home. It's more than a house, more than a city or town, so much more than just a place. It's a refuge, a sanctuary, a safe haven. For me, it's the first place I run when I have been lost for a time and need to be found. The concept of "home" differs from person to person. For some, home is not, in fact, the house that they grew up in, but some far, distant place where they found their true selves. This is not the case for me. My home fits the obvious definition of the word. It is the place that I did the greater part of my growing up. It is the four walls that built the girl who eventually became a young woman. It is the smells, the sounds, the traditions that inhabit the home in which I woke and lived and dreamt until the day that life opened a new chapter that required me to leave this place. No matter how much like "home" anywhere else that I may lay my head might feel, it will never truly be the place where I find my escape. It will never truly be my home.

I went home recently after being away for almost two months. Granted, this is not exactly a long time to  be away; I've been away longer. But each year that I've been away, I have grown more drawn to the place that I was born. It's strange. I viewed this place, when I lived in it permanently, as a suffocating place, a place with nothing to offer and even less to stick around for. I saw it as a black hole, a place in which to get trapped and never find a way out. So, naturally, as any wide-eyed eighteen-year-old would, I fled at the first chance of escape. And I did so with the intention of never looking back. At first, I didn't. At first, I coveted my newfound freedom. I boasted of it to those who had not been "fortunate" enough to get out in time. And I was in love with this new place that I found myself in. Truthfully, I still am. But, truthfully, it's not my home. I love this place and I love my school and the people that I have grown close to in my time here. I love being on my own and I love the idea that I have a bright future ahead of me because I am here. All of these things are true. Yet, every time I think of home, I feel a pull at my heartstrings and each time I go home and come back again, I can't help but feel that I am leaving my heart there, with the people, the places, the sights, sounds, and smells of the town that shaped me and the house that built me.

Both the house and the town I call home are modest; nothing spectacular or strikingly beautiful. At least, not to an ordinary, unfamiliar pair of eyes. But to me, this place holds magic and the ability to fuel even the wildest of dreams. I know this, because this is what it has done for me. This place, my home, has witnessed my greatest feats and my most devastating failures. It has held me through my deepest heartbreaks. It has heard endless laughter and endured countless tears. It was the sole spectator of my first kiss, as well as my last. It is the place that I truly fell in love for the first time and the place that was my comforter as I watched it all fall apart. I once resented this  place because it held so many memories that, at the time, I wished I could erase from my memory completely. Now, each stop light I pass has a fond memory attached, some painful and some heartwarming. But, I no longer wish those memories into oblivion. I hold them dear, no matter how much recalling them causes me to ache deep within my soul. These things, each and every one, are the abstract and broken pieces that have built me and made me whole.

I am lucky to have a home that I love so deeply. I am even luckier to be able to come back to it each time and receive the same heartfelt, warm welcome as the times before. I am beyond fortunate to not only have my family in this place, but those people who have accepted me as their own family over the years. There is no greater feeling in the world than coming home to the place that you love and being welcomed by people who love you in a way that is beyond my ability to fully grasp. I know with full certainty that no matter the circumstances, I will always be welcome here. I will always have a place that I can call home. No matter how far I stray, or for how long, I can always come home again.

This place, that I once regarded with such disdain, is my safe place, the one I now run to rather than run from. Now, instead of being ashamed of where I come from, I boast about being a girl from a farm town with a mall that is only one story and where tractors are the primary source of traffic. It is now a place that I can take pride in being from. It no longer holds all of my regrets and unforgivable mistakes. It is now a gracious place to lay down my worries and fears and know that I am protected and loved there. It is where I am able to find clarity and absolute peace. It is the place I return when I have nowhere else to turn. This is where I find myself when I feel as though I have lost it all. It is my refuge, my sanctuary, my safe haven. It is my home, forever. Only time will tell if it will be the place that I return to for good. But if I do, it will be because it is the only place that I feel whole, not because I was unable to escape. I only hope that, one day, I will be able to give to this place as much as it has given me. I hope to leave my mark on this place that is so deeply engrained in my heart. I don't care what anyone says, you really can go home again.

Sometimes what you need most is a giant slap in the face.

I'm human, therefore I'm stupid. I'm a girl, therefore I'm irrational. These are my explanations for the state I found my mind in today. I walked around for most of the day sulking in my own pathetic pool of self-pity. I had gone from the happiest I had felt in months to hating myself, hating my circumstances, and hating that I hated these things so deeply. I was feeling unloved, utterly unappreciated, and all alone. But maybe most of all, I felt pathetic for having these feelings and allowing them to control me. I have hit some of my lowest lows in the last few months, and although today was by no means my absolute lowest point, it was up there in the ranks. I was either angry or on the brink of tears for almost a full 24 hours. This is not normal for me. Ever.

Call it a case of "the Mondays," PMS, or just being plain moody. However you choose to word it, it doesn't change the fact that I was being absolutely ridiculous. I have a tendency to get in my own way. Anyone can tell you that. I'm stubborn and uptight and excruciatingly hard on myself. This is the root of many of my major problems in life. I can't let go and I can't forgive myself for my own personal failures. I'm my own toughest critic, and that's something that I know most people can relate to. Lately, I have been even harder on myself than usual. The fact that I feel like I'm starting from scratch and learning to walk all over again is something for which I have come to resent myself. I've become increasingly impatient and restless with my progress, or lack thereof. It's a creepy split-personality kind of feeling. As much as I hate the usage of the "head and heart" metaphors (because in the sense they're used, they are exactly the same organ), I'm going to disregard my cringe reflex and be extremely cliche here: My head is yelling at my heart to stop being so stupid and just let go and get on with life already. But my heart still needs time. Time to finish hurting, time to get out all of its leftover feelings, time to heal and heal completely. I don't know how much time that is exactly, all I know is that I need to stop fighting it and just accept the fact that this is what is best for me.

I know that I'm not there yet. A. because the tiniest things still set me off. And B. because I'm trying to convince myself that I'm fine even though all I want to do is immediately go back to sleep as soon as I wake up in the morning just so I don't have to deal with my own feelings. I'm a mess. Plain and simple. I'm still not sure who I am on my own. I don't even know where to begin finding the remains of that independent, self-assured, bubbly girl that once inhabited my body. She apparently ran away in the hearts of the men she fell in love with who didn't quite love her enough.

All I know is that I have to thank God for what he has blessed me with. I may be more lost than I have ever felt in my twenty years of existence, but I am still blessed beyond reason. I have amazing people in my life who can lovingly slap me across the face and remind me to be thankful for everything that I have because it's more than enough. I have a wonderful, loving roommate who waits it out while I sift through all of my moods and then listens to me vent and repent over a pot of spaghetti that I made out of self-pity and the hopes of catharsis that it surely brought. I have more than I could ever ask for and I don't deserve an ounce of it.

So, maybe I'm not okay and maybe I won't be for a long time. But, maybe that's okay. I have been asking for patience from everyone around me all along. Maybe it's time that I start being patient with myself.

Two's Company, But Three's a Crowd.

My roommate said something to me the other day that really made sense to me. In the middle of one of my many exhausting frustrated rants she says to me, "Why do Christians have to make dating so complicated? The world has it right. I just don't get why we have to make everything so awkward." Honestly, she's right. At least, as far as my opinion goes. But regardless, she has a good point. As Christians, we tend to over complicate the issue of dating. We make it so difficult for it to happen organically. Maybe that's because our options aren't always plenty or because we feel we have to go about it a particular way, like there's a step-by-step process we have to follow exactly. I'm really not sure.

This may anger some people and I apologize in advance for that. It's okay if you disagree with me. This is just one person's opinion, and maybe I'm wrong. All I can really say is that I try to live my life by the Book (the Bible, in case anyone was wondering) as closely as I possibly can. Of course, I'm only human and I slip up...often. And yes, I will admit that there are some things in there that I would love to argue aren't meant to be taken absolutely literally. Let's just get that out right now. That doesn't mean that I don't agree with them, just that I feel that they're open for a little more interpretation than most people are willing to allow.

With that being said, I'm going to share my take on Christian dating with you. You may not like it, but here it is: I think Christians have a reputation for making dating seem really mechanical, forced, and frankly, very fake. I word it that way because I know that this isn't always the case. I'm speaking from what I have personally witnessed in the Christian dating world. And quite honestly, I hate it. It makes me want to abandon dating altogether. That's horrible, I know that, but hear me out. I've dated people that would be considered "worldly." In fact, depending on your perspective, you might say that all but one of the men that I have dated were. I've said that my love life would make a pretty good bad religion joke, and it really would. Obviously, my relationships haven't worked out up to this point. But that's the nature of most relationships. 99% of the time, they don't work out. The other 1% of the time you end up married. Things don't work out, people break up, relationships end. It's not always happily ever after. It happens. It's natural and it's absolutely normal. I'm not completely heartless so, of course, I don't enjoy when relationships end. I'm a girl and, I hate to admit it, but we all want that fairytale ending and I'm no exception to that rule. But I'm also a realist and I know that happily ever after is hard to find.

The majority of relationships that I have witnessed between two Christ following individuals have been the kind of thing that makes me feel embarrassed to say that I share the same beliefs. Essentially it's one of those things that causes me to think "...and that's why people give Christians a bad name." A good majority of these negative feelings that I have towards this subject sprout from my freshman year of college. I got wrapped up with a group of people who had some good intentions but a lot of wrong ideas about how to go about living by the Word. That's when this whole thing started. I got my first taste of what Christians have made of dating as young adults. That first taste was enough for me to know that I wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. Not to mention, at the time I was in a relationship with a boy that I cared about very much.

Here's what really gets me about their dating "process." It is, in fact a process. It begins with the dates that "aren't actually dates." But really, if it looks like a date and sounds like a date and walks like a date, IT'S A DATE. They go on these dates and if they decide they actually have feelings for this person they then begin the plotting and planning of the very public (and usually very overly cliche) ceremony wherein they ask the girl to be with them and it usually includes flowers or some sort of offering. And, of course, everyone and their mother is there to witness this affair. You would swear they were getting engaged. After all of this goes as planned, the two people are "dating." But, of course, not in the sense of the word that the rest of us normal human beings utilize. This "dating" is a new stage in their lives. In fact, it's almost as if they have joined a new social class, or species even. They are separated out and put into a completely different group than they were in when they were single. Let me emphasize this: They are NOT engaged. They are NOT getting married. They are doing what normal people do, but they're making it seem like it's a much bigger deal than it actually is. And it makes me absolutely sick.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I'm a very private person when it comes to my relationships and therefore can't relate to people who feel the need to broadcast and share every aspect of their relationship with everyone around them. I'm not an open book about those kinds of things, plain and simple. My last relationship was extremely private, and if I could do it all over again I probably wouldn't change that part of it. As far as I'm concerned, relationships should be between the two people that are in that relationship. It shouldn't be about anyone else. And it shouldn't be forced or planned or premeditated. We're not 14 anymore. It's time we started having relationships the way that adults should. I know that the issue of dating isn't explicitly drawn out in the Bible, but I'm pretty sure He didn't want us to flaunt it.

It should not be so complicated. If two people are meant to be together, it will happen when the time is right. Don't force it. Don't make it about anyone else because, frankly, it is no one else's business. And please, for the love of all that is holy, STOP making such a scene out of it. It's embarrassing for the rest of us Christians who are trying to bring others in, not drive them away. I am all about being Godly in my relationships. I don't want to conduct myself by the world's standards. I want and strive to follow God's guidelines for my relationships with others, but there is no need to make it so incredibly uncomfortable for the rest of the world. You still inhabit the same body that you did before. You are not a different person because of your relationship status. Your position in life does not change because your relationship with another human does. Remember that, meditate on it, and embrace it. And please, PLEASE stop making everything so painfully awkward. The rest of the world will thank you for it.

Things I learned on my own.

I'm on my own for the first time in a long time. It's been a lot more refreshing than I thought it would be. I thought I would share some of the gems that I've learned during the beginning of this new chapter in my life. Because these things would just be a cluster of a mess if I tried to compile them into an actual entry, here's a nice organized little list. You're welcome. :)

• If you're losing who you are because of who you're with...run. 
• Get out of your comfort zone. It will be good for you. I promise.
• You really do have to kiss a few frogs before you find your prince. But I don't think they meant that literally...
• If you're constantly trying to change someone, you don't really love them. You love who you want them to be. 
• Honesty is honestly the only policy.
• Your first love always has a part of you in one way or another.
• Just because two people are in love with each other, it doesn't mean they're right for each other.
• You're only young once. Don't rush that.
• Take a risk every once in a while. Be a little impulsive. Go with your gut. It will probably turn out a lot more interesting than you might expect.
• Take time loving the people around you. Especially the ones who have stuck around for all of your nonsense. 
• Work hard, no matter what you're doing. Someone will take notice.
• Don't waste your time being shy. There's actually some pretty cool people out there. 
• Let people in. They might just pleasantly surprise you.

Never say never. Unless it's true.

As a general rule, I'm typically an exceptionally realistic person. I'll admit, I have a tendency to exaggerate and act like I believe in things that I know can never truly happen. But I really do know better. Perhaps the thing I know best of all is who I am and who I'm not. Or, rather, what I am and what I'm not. These days, it seems as though I'm not more things than I actually am. Honestly, that's a pitiful reality to become aware of. I could sit here and list off all of the things that I have discovered that do not apply to me, but I wouldn't want to put anyone through that kind of agony. So, I'll narrow it down to what seems to be the source of a lot of personal internal conflict. It comes down to this:

I never have been nor will I ever be one of those "pretty" girls. And before anyone feels the need to criticize me for being extremely vain or shallow, please just let me explain myself. From the time I was old enough to comprehend the fact that the world did not revolve around me, I began to realize that I wasn't the kind of person that fit in with the "right" people. There was something apparently missing from my personality or appearance, or perhaps both, that prohibited me from being accepted. I was never the girl with the perfect hair or the perfect wardrobe and I was always just a little bit on the weird side. I didn't fit in with the popular crowds and that always got under my skin. I just tried my hardest to pretend like it didn't. This started early, and since the beginning of this realization, I have developed a sort of complex.

I will be the first to admit that I am nothing spectacular among the female species, and, like all women, I'm incredibly insecure. The fact that I never really had an in with all of the kids who seemed to have it all had a hand in my excess of insecurities. I made attempt after attempt to be accepted by people who hardly knew that I existed. That's the kind of thing that leaves scars that stay with you for life. So far, mine have. It's given me a complex to the point that I automatically think that everyone I meet is going to see me as the uncomfortable, awkward, new kid that I was when I was 9 years old. That has remained with me for 11 years. As hard as I try, I can't talk myself out of that fear. But I need to.

I'm not the new kid anymore. I've survived the inevitable awkward phase. I've endured the horrors of high school. Now, I'm entering into my junior year of college. It's about time that I learn to embrace the woman that I was designed to be by the only One that matters. For those of you who know me and know me well, I like setting goals. As my new year's resolution this year, I had set a goal for myself to learn to love myself in the body I was born into. This was brought on by a quote I stumbled upon a while ago. I don't remember it exactly word for word, but it was talking about women in their twenties being the most insecure that they will ever be in their lives. This quote also mentioned how ironic this fact was since women are at their physical peak during this time. So, being the challenge chaser that I am, I chose to make it my goal to break this stereotype, to love my body and all it's flaws, to accept myself exactly as I am, and to make no apologies for any of it.

So... I'm not 9 years old anymore. I'm a 20-year-old woman, whether I like it or not. I may never be one of those perfect, "pretty" girls. I may never be the girl who lights up a room just by walking into it. I may never be the object of any man's desire. I may never be a size 2. But I'm exactly who I need to be. I'm exactly who I was created to be, and it's about time I start recognizing that. Life is too short to be so insecure and unsure of who you are and how much you're worth. It's time to stop feeling sorry for myself and start believing in myself instead. Whether I believe it or not, I am going to wake up in the morning and like what I see in the mirror. I am going to allow myself to feel like one of those "pretty" girls and keep my head up. I'm going to live boldly and go confidently towards what I want. I am going to allow myself to believe that I am accepted and beautiful in my own skin. Every girl deserves that for herself.

Here's to another goal and another obstacle to overcome.

Today would have been two years. Today should have been a celebration, not another day of mourning. Today would have marked two years of a relationship that I thought was going to last forever. Today is just another unpleasant reminder of just how wrong I was.

On this day two years ago, my whole world changed. Now, two years later, I'm trying to figure out how exactly I'm going to start all over on my own. Today I'm still just as in love as I was two years ago and every day after. But this time I'm alone in this...

I've been thinking a lot lately, mainly because I've been given a lot to think about recently. Things have changed. Big things...important, weighty things. Things that defined me in a profound way are dramatically different from the way they were a mere few weeks ago. Now I'm faced with the challenge of collecting the splintered fragments and deciding whether to attempt to carefully yet frantically piece them back together or to cast them out altogether, walk away, and start all over.

Now, anyone who knows anything worth knowing about me knows that I'm not one to give up, throw in the towel, wave my white flag... however you want to put it, it's not something I do. I don't surrender when I'm invested. That's another thing: It takes a lot for me to commit, but once I do, I'm fully, completely, unshakably committed. I'm the "all or nothing" type. If I'm with you, I'm with you and that's the beginning and the end of everything. Once I make a decision, I stick to it and making me change my mind is as near to impossible as it gets. So, as you can imagine, endings don't particularly sit right with me. Especially when they're endings of relationships. Letting go of a person who inhabits a significant space in my life is not something that I cope well with. It never has been, but this time...this time it's infinitely harder than it's ever been. It's nothing I can put into words, nothing I can explain, nothing that will make sense to anyone else.

Don't get me wrong, I had fair warning. I had been anticipating this outcome. It was a long time coming. I was just hoping that I was wrong. I was holding onto the hope that, once again, he would surprise me and respond in just the right way and say all the right things and remind me all over again how perfect he is and how much I love him and want to fill my forever with him and only him. I knew I was dreaming, because this time was different than all the others. I could wish and hope and dream to the ends of the earth, but in the back of my mind, I knew that this would be the thing that broke us. This was the thing that would make everything we had built up so high come crashing down around us. I was completely cognizant of that, and yet, I jump started the avalanche. It was faith that brought me to that decision and it's faith that keeps me standing here now.

Relationships are difficult, no matter what the individual circumstance of each specific relationship may be. Being with another person on that level is no effortless journey. Relationships are messy and complicated. But, standing where I stand now, I can still say that they are worth it. The good ones are, anyway. This relationship, which has recently slipped through my fingers so swiftly, was one of the good ones. It heavily characterized my life for the better part of two years (five years if we count everything that lead up to it) and I don't regret any of that time. It was not time wasted by any means. They were some of the greatest and most definitive years of my life. I wouldn't give back a second of it for anything this world could possibly offer. I will forever cherish the memories of those two fleeting years. I will always deeply appreciate and look fondly upon the time that I was able to spend with one of the greatest men I have ever known. He truly was, and is, one of the good ones. Unfortunately, at least for right now, it just wasn't right. I learned a lot about myself and about life and relationships during that time with him. He taught me what I want in a man and what I absolutely do not, how to argue lovingly, how to ask for what I want, how to fight for what I love, and how I should be treated in a relationship. He also taught me how to love, and really love another person. For all of these things, I am eternally grateful. His presence in my life has been both a beautiful blessing and a heartbreaking lesson.

Another funny thing about relationships is that everyone else is always right. What I mean, is that once you're out of it, it's a lot easier to see things that you were blind to while you were in the middle of it. Of course, no one can see what you see from the inside, but seeing both outlooks opens your eyes in a very real way. For me, once it was over, I finally was able to see the flaws in our relationship that had really been there all along. But I loved him more than I worried about our problems and I was always willing to fight through them. But, therein lies problem number one: I was always the one fighting. From the start, I fought through the criticism, the challenges, the adversity, the doubts. I fought for him and I fought for a future for us. I fought and fought and fought. I would never say that he was unappreciative of that fact, but he never really returned the favor. Not that I would have ever asked that of him or thought that he "owed me" for anything, it's just something that stands out to me.

Along those same lines, I also came to the realization that I was constantly compromising, but once again, I was the only one in the relationship doing so. There's a difference between making compromises and compromising yourself. In the end, I was doing much more of the latter. I was expending myself so far that there was very little left to be spent anywhere else. I began to lose myself in my efforts to make him happy and be the person that he needed. Somewhere along the way, I forgot to remember that I needed to be the person that I needed myself to be. I needed to be person that God designed me to be. I was giving all of myself, because I loved him, and still love him, more than I have ever loved another person, and I wanted to do and be everything that I could for him. I love/loved him that much. I was in it, I was committed and I wasn't about to devote myself with only part of my being.

He loved me. I will never doubt that, but in the end there were things that were greater than the "you and me" that we had built. One thing, really. But what we shared was the realest thing that I have ever known. It's something that I will keep with me forever. He is my first love and that's something that I won't easily forget. Only time will tell if I will ever truly be able to let go of him and what we had. It's hard to imagine being with anyone else that way again. I honestly believe that I am the kind of person who only has it in her to love that way once in a lifetime. To give myself to someone so completely again seems almost unfathomable. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I just need some time to heal and become whole on my own again.

So, here is what I have concluded. The best thing that I can do for myself at this point in my life is to just be on my own and allow myself to grow and live out my life without a man as my crutch until I know that I can stand on my own two feet and be content where I am. It might take a long time, but I'm willing to endure that. I know that this is what I need right now. I have spent the last three years of my life building my life around other people. This is the time that I need to be a little selfish and do things for myself and stop forgetting that I have needs and wants and dreams of my own. I have to finally start making myself a priority and recognize that I have worth. This is what I need. This is what I'm going to do from this point on.

One day...one day maybe I will be able to open myself up enough to love someone else, but that's going to take a great deal of time. And when I do, I will make sure that the man I choose to commit myself to is different than the ones before. One common characteristic of all of the men in my past is that each one had a strong desire to change me in one way or another. So, if the day comes that I'm ready for that kind of a relationship again, I am going to search far and wide for the man that accepts, adores, and wants me exactly as I come. That's all I want. It's all I've ever wanted and I won't settle until I find exactly that. But for now, I am going to rediscover what it's like to be on my own and learn to love that feeling again. So, I've decided to let go of those splintered pieces. The best thing is for me to just let go and let life play out as it's supposed to. And for the first time in a long time, I'm doing this for me.

Since I started this, I might as well let it be read.

This is an entry I wrote a few weeks ago, but never published. It seemed unfinished at the time. Now it just seems fitting...

"I couldn't tell you why this happens. It doesn't really make sense to me either. It's just something that has become common in my life when things start to fall apart. It's a frightening feeling, being numb. Completely and totally numb. It's scary not knowing how you feel, but knowing that, considering the circumstances, you should be feeling something. But there's nothing there. It's almost as if you've been completely poured out and all that remains is an empty, hollow shell of a person. All you can do is hope that it's only temporary.

I don't know why this happens. It hasn't always been this way. I haven't always been this way. Maybe this is just my new way of coping. There are no tears, or sobs, or the staggered breathing that has become a sure-fire sign that there was something very not right with me. None of that is there now. I know what's happening and I know how I should feel, what a normal reaction to something like this would look like, but there is something prohibiting me from reacting accordingly.

It may not be possible for me to make sense of why this is the state I find myself in, but what I know for sure is what it's like. You're still able to function and go through the motions of your daily routines. You can go on as if everything is normal, and it almost feels as though it is. But there's something missing, something that doesn't really sit right in the pit of your stomach. You walk around as you would normally, you laugh at people's jokes and smile when they do. You exist, but very little more than that. You just are. A large part of you seems to be dormant. Not gone entirely, just...unreachable.

There are two possible explanations that make even an ounce of sense to me. The first: I physically cannot handle the pain that actually enduring the emotions that are bound to come with something like this would cause. My body simply cannot withstand that kind of agony and my brain is responding by playing defense. The second explanation is that the things that I am supposed to be feeling are so deeply rooted that they are unable to rise to the surface and penetrate the nerve endings in my brain that would send me into a very painful emotional tailspin.

Neither of these potential explanations are pleasant. Obviously. But, hopeless and numb as I am, there is still one hope that I am clinging to. I am holding fast to the absolute ability of God. This is not over, even though I have already made up my mind that it is."