Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
You is kind, you is smart, you is important.
I have felt the love God has for me many times in my life, especially when I am feeling the most lost and desolate.
I began school 2 weeks ago today, after a year break. 5 credits at BYU during Spring Semester are equivocal to taking 10 credits, due to the shortened time (7 weeks). One of the classes I am taking is D&C, the first half. I wait-listed for a professor who had extremely high marks on ratemyprofessor.com, prayed I'd get in, & did; though the odds weren't in my favor.
In order to make this blog post coherent, I need to include a fact about my personal life. I don't date. Ever. I've never had a boyfriend, & I've never been in anything even vaguely resembling a relationship. In high school, I thought dating was idiotic; what was the point? You'll never see them after graduation, right?
Once I began college, it seemed a bit more realistic, but not by much. I wasn't attracted to anyone in my classes, and dating someone from my Single's Ward was the stupidest thing imaginable (to me), how awkward would it be after the break up?
As my graduating class began to wed, however, I was often asked, "why aren't you dating anyone?" by my parents, friends, random strangers, etc. I never knew how to answer. Sometimes, I felt like I disappointed my parents; not dating someone. I'd say, "it's not my fault." But sometimes, I'd wonder.
A few months ago, a male friend of mine said to me,
"You're too smart and witty. I'm not saying to dumb it down. Just slow it down. It's super intimidating."
I have never, in my 21 years on this planet, been more offended. I remember getting chills and struggling to sleep that night. I was so hurt. My education was the most important thing to me, & I loved that I was witty. It was literally my favorite part of me, and now someone who I thought was a friend, was telling me it was a hinderance. I didn't know what to do.
Back to that D&C class I had today, & how God showed me, yet again, how much he loves me. As the class was winding down, the professor made a statement. He spoke of a time when some girls who had attended BYU asked their professor why he thought they were unmarried. He said, "some young men are too intimidated by women who are further in their education than they are, and would rather date incoming freshmen." My professor said this when there was literally 2 minutes left of class. As he said it, I froze; I could feel that this was a statement to me, from God. He is everlasting. He is endless. He is the beginning and the end, & he still took the time to let me know, He is aware of me.
I am smart. And yes, I am witty as hell. I have a broad vocabulary; I love to read. I value my education, and I will not apologize for that. I will not change myself to seem more attractive to someone. I am me, and I love it. & I know God does too.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
The Best Is Yet To Come
I've realized that throughout my life, there have always been extremes. Either very high highs, or depressingly low lows. This has resulted in a pretty unbalanced, me.
My childhood was not ordinary. My parents married very young and both came from extremely unstable households. I don't resent them, they did the best they could, but as is known, there is no handbook & mistakes were made. Early on, I learned to expect the worst. I would be told and promised things that never happened, and before my teen years, I had given up hoping for anything at all. Preparing for and expecting the worst became how I lived, and unfortunately, I wasn't too often disappointed.
By contrast, I have had many miracles happen in my life. Things that should not have happened to me. Probably one of the biggest of these miracles, was my acceptance into BYU immediately following high school graduation. Listen, I was not supposed to get accepted into BYU, not statistically. I don't know if God felt bad for all the times I didn't understand white idioms as a child, but he tacked on a scholarship in addition to my admission. You'd think I'd be weeping with gratitude at this point & becoming the most devout, Christlike person in Provo, but no. I was a punk kid & slept through most of my classes (at one point, my backpack consisted of a pillow & a blanket).
Not many people know this, but by my junior year, my parent's generally tumultuous marriage had reached an all time low. My little brother Ian is the greatest thing my parents have ever done for me & at this time we became closer than ever. Ian has always been very mature, he rarely cried as a child, and by the time he was 3, tantrums, whining, fussing; it all ended. He had just turned 6 at this point and as we got closer, he began to cling to me; depend on me. I couldn't leave the house without him crying; it got to the point to where attending school made me feel like I was abandoning him. He started calling me mom, and it was at about this time that my mother stopped talking to me. As Fall semester started, I realized I was depressed. I would stay up until 5 or 6 in the morning just lying in bed, and sleep in until 3 the following afternoon. School was the furthest of my priorities, and after some triggers, I decided to withdraw from school, sell my car, quit my job, and move to California. I didn't tell anyone until I was at the airport. I just needed to get away.
I was in pure bliss for 4 weeks. Ian would call me on my mom and dad's phone almost everyday saying that he missed me and asking when I'd come home. Eventually, I stopped answering. His voice-mails would tear me apart. Often he'd be crying saying that he missed me and he needed me. My dad called me from BYU on one occasion in an effort to convince me to come back. But, I was happy in San Diego. I was living with my aunt and uncle and in those 4 weeks, my aunt Jolene taught me what it was to be a mother. She was the most loving, caring, understanding, interested person I had ever been around. She remembered things I would casually mention, we would go to lunch, we would talk for hours, she would drive me to church & pick me up on Sundays even though she isn't Mormon and Sunday was her day off. She was another miracle God gave me, to teach me what it's like to be loved. My dad called me one day in November to let me know that he was coming to San Diego to drop my great grandma off in Mexico. I hadn't seen her & missed her terribly. I agreed to go with him to Tijuana, but was resolute that I wouldn't return with him to Utah.
Long story short, I came home with my dad because the truth is, I will always be a Daddy's Girl. Nothing makes me happier than making my dad happy, and I knew that in the long run, returning to school was the best thing for me to do. I remember sitting in the car as my aunt kissed me good-bye, "You are always welcome here, " she told me. She didn't want me to leave, but in that loving way that only she's mastered, she supported me. I returned to BYU Winter of 2012, and after a depressing semester, I was told that I had let my GPA slip and was suspended from BYU for one year. I wasn't upset. I have always known that things happen how they're supposed to happen, I was totally at peace. My mom stormed out of the office & let me know how much of a disappointment I was to her, and my dad & I moved into a condo in downtown Provo.
I began working with my dad and we became closer than we had ever been. My dad became my best friend; I still remember staying up until dark thirty in the morning talking about the Gospel and eating ramen while watching Storage Wars.
One day, my dad's lawyer came in to Diego's to order some food. He knew about my interest in law so we often had conversations & knew each other fairly well. As he finished ordering he said, "So, the divorce is final." I looked at him with a blank stare, "What?" my parents have been saying they're going to get divorced since I was 10; I still have the journal entry I wrote in magenta crayon that is wrinkled with tear stains, from the first time they sat us down to tell us. What did he mean 'the divorce was final'? "Yeah, like your dad can date other women, now." Okay. I am easily the most jealous person I've ever met, and I am particularly possessive of my dad; just thinking of him dating other women made me nauseated. As cold and unfeeling as I had become, the minute his lawyer told me this, I felt myself regress to a child & the ball of emotion in my throat was on the verge of making itself manifest. This was it, I thought; I've become the statistic. I'm the 1 in 2 people who come from divorced parents. What am I going to say when I start dating someone, and he invites me over to family dinner, and his parents ask about my parents & I have to say, 'they're divorced', and his parents think, 'oh, she comes from a broken home,' and they decide I'm not good enough? Clearly, I lost it.
I was now, 21, not in school, from a broken home, without a car & to add insult to injury, my skin decided it was time that my acne, which never came in high school, showed up. I was in a lull. I was worthless. I wanted to move to Kentucky and live with my gay best friend, James whom I am in love with & just forget I had ever lived in Utah. But God had other plans. My dad served an LDS mission when he was 18 in Paraguay. His mission companion was Carl Hernandez, who I met not long after my world was starting to dissolve. Carl is the assistant dean at BYU Law. One day he came to Diego's & introduced himself, "Come sit and talk to me, I'll tell you about your dad." I was particularly mad at my dad on this day, but as I heard Carl talk about the kind of missionary my father was & his unshakable testimony, I began to see what an amazing man I have as a father. "I heard you wanted to go into law, come see me sometime." HA! If only he knew what a screw up I was, "I don't think school is for me," I responded, "Just come see me, we'll talk. If you don't, I'll call here until you do." I don't know what he saw in me, & I don't know why I felt I had to, but I made an appointment to see him a few weeks later. This is the third miracle; meeting Carl. I asked my dad to come with me, not really knowing what the objective of the meeting was, we met, I told him a synopsis of my depressing situation & sat back, sort of expecting him to say something along the lines of, "Oh, well I didn't know you sucked at life, never mind." As we sat in his office Carl said to me, "Jessica, you were accepted into BYU for a reason. I can tell without looking at your grades that you are very smart. If you'll let me, I'd like to help you." Again, I don't know what he saw in this messy-haired, slump shouldered, sad-eyed person on his couch, but he stood up, walked to a bowl he had on his desk and gave me a polished rock that had the word "BELIEVE" engraved on it. He knew my hope was dead. There was something about the way he looked at me that told me he could see into my soul; he knew I was depleted, but he insisted that I believe in him, and believe I could make it back to school.
I don't know what Carl saw in me, I don't know what my aunt Jolene saw in me, & I don't know what the admissions committee at BYU saw in me; but I do know that God places certain people in our lives with a purpose & I am eternally grateful that these people are in tune enough with the Spirit to follow the instructions God gives them. Under Carl's supervision & instruction, I reapplied to BYU, got re-endorsed by my bishop and stake president, and yesterday at 8:00 pm opened an email with shaking fingers which read, much to my relief, that I had been re-accepted. My patriarchal blessing says to work hard in school, & to realize that trials can be opportunities for growth; let's just say, this past year, I've had quite the growth spurt.
There aren't a lot of things I am sure of, but I know for a fact that the best is yet to come.
My childhood was not ordinary. My parents married very young and both came from extremely unstable households. I don't resent them, they did the best they could, but as is known, there is no handbook & mistakes were made. Early on, I learned to expect the worst. I would be told and promised things that never happened, and before my teen years, I had given up hoping for anything at all. Preparing for and expecting the worst became how I lived, and unfortunately, I wasn't too often disappointed.
By contrast, I have had many miracles happen in my life. Things that should not have happened to me. Probably one of the biggest of these miracles, was my acceptance into BYU immediately following high school graduation. Listen, I was not supposed to get accepted into BYU, not statistically. I don't know if God felt bad for all the times I didn't understand white idioms as a child, but he tacked on a scholarship in addition to my admission. You'd think I'd be weeping with gratitude at this point & becoming the most devout, Christlike person in Provo, but no. I was a punk kid & slept through most of my classes (at one point, my backpack consisted of a pillow & a blanket).
Not many people know this, but by my junior year, my parent's generally tumultuous marriage had reached an all time low. My little brother Ian is the greatest thing my parents have ever done for me & at this time we became closer than ever. Ian has always been very mature, he rarely cried as a child, and by the time he was 3, tantrums, whining, fussing; it all ended. He had just turned 6 at this point and as we got closer, he began to cling to me; depend on me. I couldn't leave the house without him crying; it got to the point to where attending school made me feel like I was abandoning him. He started calling me mom, and it was at about this time that my mother stopped talking to me. As Fall semester started, I realized I was depressed. I would stay up until 5 or 6 in the morning just lying in bed, and sleep in until 3 the following afternoon. School was the furthest of my priorities, and after some triggers, I decided to withdraw from school, sell my car, quit my job, and move to California. I didn't tell anyone until I was at the airport. I just needed to get away.
I was in pure bliss for 4 weeks. Ian would call me on my mom and dad's phone almost everyday saying that he missed me and asking when I'd come home. Eventually, I stopped answering. His voice-mails would tear me apart. Often he'd be crying saying that he missed me and he needed me. My dad called me from BYU on one occasion in an effort to convince me to come back. But, I was happy in San Diego. I was living with my aunt and uncle and in those 4 weeks, my aunt Jolene taught me what it was to be a mother. She was the most loving, caring, understanding, interested person I had ever been around. She remembered things I would casually mention, we would go to lunch, we would talk for hours, she would drive me to church & pick me up on Sundays even though she isn't Mormon and Sunday was her day off. She was another miracle God gave me, to teach me what it's like to be loved. My dad called me one day in November to let me know that he was coming to San Diego to drop my great grandma off in Mexico. I hadn't seen her & missed her terribly. I agreed to go with him to Tijuana, but was resolute that I wouldn't return with him to Utah.
Long story short, I came home with my dad because the truth is, I will always be a Daddy's Girl. Nothing makes me happier than making my dad happy, and I knew that in the long run, returning to school was the best thing for me to do. I remember sitting in the car as my aunt kissed me good-bye, "You are always welcome here, " she told me. She didn't want me to leave, but in that loving way that only she's mastered, she supported me. I returned to BYU Winter of 2012, and after a depressing semester, I was told that I had let my GPA slip and was suspended from BYU for one year. I wasn't upset. I have always known that things happen how they're supposed to happen, I was totally at peace. My mom stormed out of the office & let me know how much of a disappointment I was to her, and my dad & I moved into a condo in downtown Provo.
I began working with my dad and we became closer than we had ever been. My dad became my best friend; I still remember staying up until dark thirty in the morning talking about the Gospel and eating ramen while watching Storage Wars.
One day, my dad's lawyer came in to Diego's to order some food. He knew about my interest in law so we often had conversations & knew each other fairly well. As he finished ordering he said, "So, the divorce is final." I looked at him with a blank stare, "What?" my parents have been saying they're going to get divorced since I was 10; I still have the journal entry I wrote in magenta crayon that is wrinkled with tear stains, from the first time they sat us down to tell us. What did he mean 'the divorce was final'? "Yeah, like your dad can date other women, now." Okay. I am easily the most jealous person I've ever met, and I am particularly possessive of my dad; just thinking of him dating other women made me nauseated. As cold and unfeeling as I had become, the minute his lawyer told me this, I felt myself regress to a child & the ball of emotion in my throat was on the verge of making itself manifest. This was it, I thought; I've become the statistic. I'm the 1 in 2 people who come from divorced parents. What am I going to say when I start dating someone, and he invites me over to family dinner, and his parents ask about my parents & I have to say, 'they're divorced', and his parents think, 'oh, she comes from a broken home,' and they decide I'm not good enough? Clearly, I lost it.
I was now, 21, not in school, from a broken home, without a car & to add insult to injury, my skin decided it was time that my acne, which never came in high school, showed up. I was in a lull. I was worthless. I wanted to move to Kentucky and live with my gay best friend, James whom I am in love with & just forget I had ever lived in Utah. But God had other plans. My dad served an LDS mission when he was 18 in Paraguay. His mission companion was Carl Hernandez, who I met not long after my world was starting to dissolve. Carl is the assistant dean at BYU Law. One day he came to Diego's & introduced himself, "Come sit and talk to me, I'll tell you about your dad." I was particularly mad at my dad on this day, but as I heard Carl talk about the kind of missionary my father was & his unshakable testimony, I began to see what an amazing man I have as a father. "I heard you wanted to go into law, come see me sometime." HA! If only he knew what a screw up I was, "I don't think school is for me," I responded, "Just come see me, we'll talk. If you don't, I'll call here until you do." I don't know what he saw in me, & I don't know why I felt I had to, but I made an appointment to see him a few weeks later. This is the third miracle; meeting Carl. I asked my dad to come with me, not really knowing what the objective of the meeting was, we met, I told him a synopsis of my depressing situation & sat back, sort of expecting him to say something along the lines of, "Oh, well I didn't know you sucked at life, never mind." As we sat in his office Carl said to me, "Jessica, you were accepted into BYU for a reason. I can tell without looking at your grades that you are very smart. If you'll let me, I'd like to help you." Again, I don't know what he saw in this messy-haired, slump shouldered, sad-eyed person on his couch, but he stood up, walked to a bowl he had on his desk and gave me a polished rock that had the word "BELIEVE" engraved on it. He knew my hope was dead. There was something about the way he looked at me that told me he could see into my soul; he knew I was depleted, but he insisted that I believe in him, and believe I could make it back to school.
I don't know what Carl saw in me, I don't know what my aunt Jolene saw in me, & I don't know what the admissions committee at BYU saw in me; but I do know that God places certain people in our lives with a purpose & I am eternally grateful that these people are in tune enough with the Spirit to follow the instructions God gives them. Under Carl's supervision & instruction, I reapplied to BYU, got re-endorsed by my bishop and stake president, and yesterday at 8:00 pm opened an email with shaking fingers which read, much to my relief, that I had been re-accepted. My patriarchal blessing says to work hard in school, & to realize that trials can be opportunities for growth; let's just say, this past year, I've had quite the growth spurt.
There aren't a lot of things I am sure of, but I know for a fact that the best is yet to come.
Sunday, February 3, 2013
Him
This year has been pretty epic for me so far.
Fall of last year was pretty life changing for me and as always, retrospect is 20/20.
I met a boy in a whirlwind, spontaneous way & quickly became very close to him. I've always been someone who has been generally opposed to people marrying at 19, 20, 21, 22, 23 because to be honest, it's just so young. However, I remember the night we first spent time together, as he sat across the table from me, it hit me; the thought, "I finally understand why people marry young." We couldn't finish a conversation because we were interrupting each other with, "NO WAY"'s and "ME TOO"'s. It was unreal to meet someone I had so much in common with & that I could click with so instantaneously.
He opened up to me about really severe personal things, and I did as well. I felt like I could talk to him and I began to notice that whenever something went wrong in my life, he was the first person I wanted to talk to. After one particularly upsetting day, we talked on the phone for hours and he told me he felt prompted to tell me, "You're worthy of love. You deserve all the best."
I'd known this kid for like, 8 hours at this point. Needless to say, my heart melted. From the beginning, I was his. We began to spend more and more time together and if we didn't talk everyday, something felt off. Eventually, my naturally jealous personality could hardly stand his friendly demeanor with others & I wanted him to be exclusively mine. It was so obvious he felt the same, right? I mean, there was a chemistry. Right?
So why did he keep telling me about other girls he was dating.
Friends told me that was an old trick guys used to get the girls they like jealous, & I believed them.
I've got to tell him, I decided.
I did it via text; I hate confrontations. Long story short, he "loved spending time with me, but didn't sense anything romantic between us". At first, I was nauseated. I just sat in my shock & nausea wondering how I was ever going to breathe again. A few minutes later, I was relieved: at least now I knew & could stop thinking there was any potential. Later, I was humiliated. I had never been rejected, primarily because I had never gone out on a limb like that, I had never liked someone enough to.
He wanted to remain friends, in that sadistic way that most males do, but my heart was completely depleted. I quickly discovered, after a few failed attempts, that I couldn't be around him. Sharing the same space reminded me that he had refused my offer to be his, I wasn't good enough. He didn't like me. I had been rejected.
I tried to completely cut him off, but he would sporadically text me, as did I, random greetings, or questions about retail discounts (he worked/s in retail). After he texted me "Happy New Years, Jess!" I replied with, "I miss you." He responded he did too. This was great, I thought; maybe we can start our friendship over. A mutual friend told me he'd be playing at a local venue & we should go watch him perform. THIS WAS PERFECT, the second day of the year, I'd surprise him and we would all be friends and happy and wonderful. I showed up & sat with our shared friends; he hadn't arrived. When he finally walked in, my heart skipped a beat. As he approached our table, I smiled as I attempted to reach his gaze...it never happened. He greeted everyone around me as he completely ignored my existence. I sat in stunned silence. A few minutes later, he walked away and I overheard someone say, "Isn't that his girlfriend over there?" My heart, or what remained of it, evaporated.
A friend of ours leaned over and said, "Are you okay?" I played it off completely nonchalant. I had been hurt by him before, although not intentionally (it wasn't his fault he didn't like me), but his obvious dismissal that was apparent to everyone stirred a new emotion in me. I wasn't sad anymore, no, no. I was mad.
The next day I deleted his number and realized, 'You know what? I am awesome. I'm funny, I'm cool, people love me. If he doesn't want to be around me, there's plenty of other people who do.'
It's amazing what a paradigm shift can do for a girl. I used to want to be with him so bad, and now I don't want to be anyone's anything. Why bother? Have you seen how many good looking men there are in Provo, Utah? Why would I limit myself? I've been asked out more in the past month that I had been in the last 6 months of 2012.
I don't think about him hardly ever, and when I do; it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Last night I allowed myself to think about him for a while longer and I realized why the idea of love is no longer appealing to me; I loved him. He was 100% 'it' for me. I used to call him Checklist, in my mind because he was literally everything I'd ever wanted in someone. I was so sure. But, I was wrong. How could someone I was so invested in & willing to place all my bets on, let me down? I felt so right about it at the time, and now a mere 4 months later, I see him and wonder, "What the hell did I see in him?" Where's the guarantee that won't happen with the next person I'm "sure about". This is what causes divorce, right? It's just been elongated, then one day you wake up and think, "Hell. What did I get myself into?"
No thank-you, sir. I'd rather not.
Fall of last year was pretty life changing for me and as always, retrospect is 20/20.
I met a boy in a whirlwind, spontaneous way & quickly became very close to him. I've always been someone who has been generally opposed to people marrying at 19, 20, 21, 22, 23 because to be honest, it's just so young. However, I remember the night we first spent time together, as he sat across the table from me, it hit me; the thought, "I finally understand why people marry young." We couldn't finish a conversation because we were interrupting each other with, "NO WAY"'s and "ME TOO"'s. It was unreal to meet someone I had so much in common with & that I could click with so instantaneously.
He opened up to me about really severe personal things, and I did as well. I felt like I could talk to him and I began to notice that whenever something went wrong in my life, he was the first person I wanted to talk to. After one particularly upsetting day, we talked on the phone for hours and he told me he felt prompted to tell me, "You're worthy of love. You deserve all the best."
I'd known this kid for like, 8 hours at this point. Needless to say, my heart melted. From the beginning, I was his. We began to spend more and more time together and if we didn't talk everyday, something felt off. Eventually, my naturally jealous personality could hardly stand his friendly demeanor with others & I wanted him to be exclusively mine. It was so obvious he felt the same, right? I mean, there was a chemistry. Right?
So why did he keep telling me about other girls he was dating.
Friends told me that was an old trick guys used to get the girls they like jealous, & I believed them.
I've got to tell him, I decided.
I did it via text; I hate confrontations. Long story short, he "loved spending time with me, but didn't sense anything romantic between us". At first, I was nauseated. I just sat in my shock & nausea wondering how I was ever going to breathe again. A few minutes later, I was relieved: at least now I knew & could stop thinking there was any potential. Later, I was humiliated. I had never been rejected, primarily because I had never gone out on a limb like that, I had never liked someone enough to.
He wanted to remain friends, in that sadistic way that most males do, but my heart was completely depleted. I quickly discovered, after a few failed attempts, that I couldn't be around him. Sharing the same space reminded me that he had refused my offer to be his, I wasn't good enough. He didn't like me. I had been rejected.
I tried to completely cut him off, but he would sporadically text me, as did I, random greetings, or questions about retail discounts (he worked/s in retail). After he texted me "Happy New Years, Jess!" I replied with, "I miss you." He responded he did too. This was great, I thought; maybe we can start our friendship over. A mutual friend told me he'd be playing at a local venue & we should go watch him perform. THIS WAS PERFECT, the second day of the year, I'd surprise him and we would all be friends and happy and wonderful. I showed up & sat with our shared friends; he hadn't arrived. When he finally walked in, my heart skipped a beat. As he approached our table, I smiled as I attempted to reach his gaze...it never happened. He greeted everyone around me as he completely ignored my existence. I sat in stunned silence. A few minutes later, he walked away and I overheard someone say, "Isn't that his girlfriend over there?" My heart, or what remained of it, evaporated.
A friend of ours leaned over and said, "Are you okay?" I played it off completely nonchalant. I had been hurt by him before, although not intentionally (it wasn't his fault he didn't like me), but his obvious dismissal that was apparent to everyone stirred a new emotion in me. I wasn't sad anymore, no, no. I was mad.
The next day I deleted his number and realized, 'You know what? I am awesome. I'm funny, I'm cool, people love me. If he doesn't want to be around me, there's plenty of other people who do.'
It's amazing what a paradigm shift can do for a girl. I used to want to be with him so bad, and now I don't want to be anyone's anything. Why bother? Have you seen how many good looking men there are in Provo, Utah? Why would I limit myself? I've been asked out more in the past month that I had been in the last 6 months of 2012.
I don't think about him hardly ever, and when I do; it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Last night I allowed myself to think about him for a while longer and I realized why the idea of love is no longer appealing to me; I loved him. He was 100% 'it' for me. I used to call him Checklist, in my mind because he was literally everything I'd ever wanted in someone. I was so sure. But, I was wrong. How could someone I was so invested in & willing to place all my bets on, let me down? I felt so right about it at the time, and now a mere 4 months later, I see him and wonder, "What the hell did I see in him?" Where's the guarantee that won't happen with the next person I'm "sure about". This is what causes divorce, right? It's just been elongated, then one day you wake up and think, "Hell. What did I get myself into?"
No thank-you, sir. I'd rather not.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
The Crinkle of Paper
When I was younger my dad would come home from work long after I'd gone to bed. I would hazily hear the garage door opening and then closing and him walking in. My eyes would flutter open when I heard the unmistakable crinkle of paper alerting me that my dad had some fast food glory to share with me.
I would tip-toe down the stairs, always surprising myself at how silent I was, and as I turned the corner, he'd be there in the kitchen about to enjoy his meal. He never scolded me for crawling out of bed; I was always greeted with a smile. He'd share his food, always letting me have the last bite and I'd thank him with a kiss and head back to bed content in my stomach and heart.
It's nights like tonight, as I close the garage door behind me and unwrap my burger; when I hear the crinkle of paper, that make me miss my dad the most. I wish he was home, where he belongs. I wish we could talk about everything and nothing. I wish I could tell him about boys I liked and watch him roll his eyes and tell me they're all losers. I wish we could watch worthless TV till 3 in the morning like we used to. I hate that he's not here. I hate that thinking about him can make me cry. I hate that I couldn't change the situation. I hate that I hate my mother for making him leave. But worst of all, I hate that I miss someone who isn't gone.
I would tip-toe down the stairs, always surprising myself at how silent I was, and as I turned the corner, he'd be there in the kitchen about to enjoy his meal. He never scolded me for crawling out of bed; I was always greeted with a smile. He'd share his food, always letting me have the last bite and I'd thank him with a kiss and head back to bed content in my stomach and heart.
It's nights like tonight, as I close the garage door behind me and unwrap my burger; when I hear the crinkle of paper, that make me miss my dad the most. I wish he was home, where he belongs. I wish we could talk about everything and nothing. I wish I could tell him about boys I liked and watch him roll his eyes and tell me they're all losers. I wish we could watch worthless TV till 3 in the morning like we used to. I hate that he's not here. I hate that thinking about him can make me cry. I hate that I couldn't change the situation. I hate that I hate my mother for making him leave. But worst of all, I hate that I miss someone who isn't gone.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
9 Months
I haven't written on here since I got pregnant; I AM KIDDING. But it has been 9 months, so hypothetically speaking, I could have conceived, carried, labored, and delivered a baby in the time of my absence.
Wow, what to say. Hmm. I met someone, fell in love, it wasn't reciprocated; ceased all communication, and now he is dating my brother's ex-girlfriend.
YAY PROVO UTAH'S INFINITELY SMALL YET VAST DATING POOL.
I got kicked out of school because my grades weren't up to par, my parents got divorced, I moved in with my dad; became best friends with him, was forced to move out after 8 glorious months, my great-grandma who I was unusually close to died; I started going to the temple almost weekly, I began attending institute, I quit my job with my dad & didn't come back after 2 weeks like I usually do, I started working with a lady in my ward; I started hiking and spending time in nature, & I read some life-changing books.
In retrospect, I had some really high highs, and some really low lows. I think I've cried more in these past few months than I have in a really long time. I considered and seriously almost did, leave a couple times. The idea of starting over somewhere where no one knows me is so attractive sometimes. But, I didn't leave and I am glad. The reality is I've developed a pattern of running away when things don't go the way I'd like them to.
Now, I don't want to sound hypersensitive or weak, "the way I'd like" doesn't mean what I'm sure whoever is reading this is thinking. I've experienced some terrible things. I've seen and heard things I pray to God no one I love ever has to. My childhood ended when I was about 10, and my self-esteem started about a year ago. I've had every role from mother to peace maker to psychiatrist to therapist thrust upon me. I didn't ask for them, they were forcibly given to me. But as I get older and learn more life principles from some incredible people, I realize this has to stop. I need to grow accustomed to dealing with things and not leaving at the first sign of a storm.
I'm really happy right now, and I hope I can keep this feeling for a long time.
Wow, what to say. Hmm. I met someone, fell in love, it wasn't reciprocated; ceased all communication, and now he is dating my brother's ex-girlfriend.
YAY PROVO UTAH'S INFINITELY SMALL YET VAST DATING POOL.
I got kicked out of school because my grades weren't up to par, my parents got divorced, I moved in with my dad; became best friends with him, was forced to move out after 8 glorious months, my great-grandma who I was unusually close to died; I started going to the temple almost weekly, I began attending institute, I quit my job with my dad & didn't come back after 2 weeks like I usually do, I started working with a lady in my ward; I started hiking and spending time in nature, & I read some life-changing books.
In retrospect, I had some really high highs, and some really low lows. I think I've cried more in these past few months than I have in a really long time. I considered and seriously almost did, leave a couple times. The idea of starting over somewhere where no one knows me is so attractive sometimes. But, I didn't leave and I am glad. The reality is I've developed a pattern of running away when things don't go the way I'd like them to.
Now, I don't want to sound hypersensitive or weak, "the way I'd like" doesn't mean what I'm sure whoever is reading this is thinking. I've experienced some terrible things. I've seen and heard things I pray to God no one I love ever has to. My childhood ended when I was about 10, and my self-esteem started about a year ago. I've had every role from mother to peace maker to psychiatrist to therapist thrust upon me. I didn't ask for them, they were forcibly given to me. But as I get older and learn more life principles from some incredible people, I realize this has to stop. I need to grow accustomed to dealing with things and not leaving at the first sign of a storm.
I'm really happy right now, and I hope I can keep this feeling for a long time.
Mi May
Upper Falls, Provo Canyon
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
A BIG Something.
I'm doing a BIG something in my life.
It's something that (this is going to sound so familiar, like 3 posts down-familiar)
I've been wanting to do for a while. There was always some reason about why I couldn't do it,
whether it be school, or family, or waiting on someone/something (dumb).
But the timing is perfect. Literally, couldn't be more ideal, and I'm doing it.
I was going to do a different big thing, just as big, maybe bigger, but a lot risker, but I decided against it.
There's a certain type of girl that can do certain types of things. Some girls can live with males who aren't gay and not worry about the possibility of an awkward advance resulting in an instant shut down. I am not one of those girls.
But I'm realizing that "this life is all we have". I know how superbly retarded that sounds when said aloud, but it's so very true. This BIG thing has been in the depths of my mind for years now, but it started coming to light following a "The Buried Life" marathon.
Yes, yes, I know what you are thinking, "MTV!?" But those boys, despite how rambuncious and hormonal they may be, are living. We all watch, and "ooooh" and "ahhhh", but why are we sitting the a basement of a Saturday night watching other people be happy?
WHY CAN'T WE BE HAPPY?
I decided we can. & I can. So I will.
I feel like nature agrees with me, the leaves are changing colors, likewise, it's high time I change environments.
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