Three years ago I got a positive pregnancy test on Mother's Day.
I was stunned. I'm not going to lie- I'm the sentimental type. The symbolism of finding out I would be a mother again on Mother's Day pushed my emotional response into hyperdrive. I was excited.
Best Mother's Day gift ever.
A few weeks later, I miscarried.
I couldn't believe it. I'm sure a little piece of my heart fell out that day. I haven't been able to find it since.
Sure, my life looks pretty normal now.
But something's different.
There are certain things someone will say at a dinner party or a church function, and Trevor and I can communicate with each other with just our eyes. Sometimes I feel like he's the only one who has an idea of the feeling of loss I'm experiencing.
The dull aching doesn't really go away, but every once in a while something will come along that reveals a rawness to the wound you thought was long gone.
Kind of like those crazy contractions you have hours after having a baby. You think to yourself, "whoa. I thought I was done with this!"
But the reality is, you're never really quite done.
Being a mother is difficult and painful.
Not being able to be a mother is difficult and painful.
Being a mother, but not being able to have more kids when you want to is difficult and painful. Everyone tells you "at least you got to have a child." or "Be grateful for what you have."
Losing a child before they lose you... I can't even imagine the pain.
Losing your mom is heartbreaking.
Wishing your mom was able to show you love and acceptance instead of hateful words and the back of her hand is painful.
Having the kid you were never sure you wanted and now are overwhelmed with the responsibility is painful. And lonely.
Are we seeing a trend here?
Motherhood and the lack thereof are painful experiences.
Yet, there is always hope. Always.
There is always room for joy.
In Romans chapter twelve, Paul tells us to rejoice with those who are rejoicing and weep with those who weep.
I like everything to make sense within my neatly drawn parameters, but that doesn't happen with celebration and sorrow.
It's not one or the other.
It's both.
How do we rejoice and weep together?
We realize that there's beauty in pain, and sometimes a little pain in rejoicing.
I know. I sound crazy.
The only reason I try to talk about this is because I've lived it. I've experienced it.
It's messy, and ugly, and gorgeous, and exhausting, and exhilarating.
It's life.
Mother's Day is ugly to me, because I am reminded of the missing piece of my heart. The hole is so tangibly there.
Mother's Day is beautiful to me, because I have the most incredible children to be grateful for. I have a mom who loves me. Who believes in me.
More than any other holiday, this one looks the most like how I feel most of the time: beautifully broken.
So, can we just agree to widen the nets on Mother's Day?
Can we make room for the pain and the beauty: the hope deferred, the overwhelming gratitude?
The depth that comes from the darkest moments can not be replicated.
Let's embrace the mess that is life.
Let's rejoice with those who are celebrating, and weep with those who are mourning.
I know that come tomorrow, I'll be doing a little of both.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Friday, January 03, 2014
Try Hard
I've spent my whole life trying hard.
We've hashed through this quite a bit recently on this blog.
I look all around me, and I see people... striving. I think "striving" is a good way to describe it. If you look up the definition to "strive", you'll see words like exert vigorously, make strenuous efforts, or struggle.
It makes me think of yesterday, watching my 3 1/2 year old try to make her way across the back yard. The problem is we have had over three feet of snow in the past couple weeks. I watched as she would struggle to take a step, and once she finally did she would sink down in snow up to her armpits.
She was struggling. An exertion was taking place. I felt tired watching her.
Before, I tried because I was afraid. I felt I had already disappointed anyone who mattered to me, so every new person I met felt like a new opportunity to prove myself. I tried because I was hungry for restoration. It was a dark hunger, the kind that gnaws at your insides to the point that you feel sick.
Even though I tried, I reserved myself, so that if I failed, I could lick my wounds and comfort myself with the fact that I hadn't given everything I had.
When I allowed God to heal my past hurts, and began to learn how to accept the love He offered me, my trying changed.
Actually, I think at first my trying pretty much stopped. It was a gathering of my thoughts, emotions, and past experiences. It was a regrouping and redefining period. I kind of sat in this rest of the idea that I didn't have to prove anything anymore.
But I feel like something incredible happened at that point.
Something new was born in me.
I wanted to try again. But this time I wanted to give everything. I wanted to jump off the edge of the cliff to fly with no safety net.
I became more brave because I had experienced the grace of God.
Suddenly, I was aware that even if I took a huge, clumsy tumble (that I am known for!), it didn't mean anything. It wouldn't keep God from loving me, or being proud of me.
During this last stint in the hospital, Trevor came into my room with a little stuffed eagle (not an actual stuffed eagle. A stuffed animal eagle). He said he didn't know why, but it made him think of me.
So, I named her Elizabeagle the eagle, because that's how I do.
But honestly, it's probably my favorite thing he's ever given me. Because, at the risk of sounding extremely corny, I feel like that eagle. Now I feel like I can soar.
Okay. I'm starting to sound like a Ray Boltz song.
Hopefully this post connects with you! Have you ever struggled with trying for the wrong reasons? Let me know in the comments!
We've hashed through this quite a bit recently on this blog.
I look all around me, and I see people... striving. I think "striving" is a good way to describe it. If you look up the definition to "strive", you'll see words like exert vigorously, make strenuous efforts, or struggle.
It makes me think of yesterday, watching my 3 1/2 year old try to make her way across the back yard. The problem is we have had over three feet of snow in the past couple weeks. I watched as she would struggle to take a step, and once she finally did she would sink down in snow up to her armpits.
She was struggling. An exertion was taking place. I felt tired watching her.
Before, I tried because I was afraid. I felt I had already disappointed anyone who mattered to me, so every new person I met felt like a new opportunity to prove myself. I tried because I was hungry for restoration. It was a dark hunger, the kind that gnaws at your insides to the point that you feel sick.
Even though I tried, I reserved myself, so that if I failed, I could lick my wounds and comfort myself with the fact that I hadn't given everything I had.
When I allowed God to heal my past hurts, and began to learn how to accept the love He offered me, my trying changed.
Actually, I think at first my trying pretty much stopped. It was a gathering of my thoughts, emotions, and past experiences. It was a regrouping and redefining period. I kind of sat in this rest of the idea that I didn't have to prove anything anymore.
But I feel like something incredible happened at that point.
Something new was born in me.
I wanted to try again. But this time I wanted to give everything. I wanted to jump off the edge of the cliff to fly with no safety net.
I became more brave because I had experienced the grace of God.
Suddenly, I was aware that even if I took a huge, clumsy tumble (that I am known for!), it didn't mean anything. It wouldn't keep God from loving me, or being proud of me.
During this last stint in the hospital, Trevor came into my room with a little stuffed eagle (not an actual stuffed eagle. A stuffed animal eagle). He said he didn't know why, but it made him think of me.
So, I named her Elizabeagle the eagle, because that's how I do.
But honestly, it's probably my favorite thing he's ever given me. Because, at the risk of sounding extremely corny, I feel like that eagle. Now I feel like I can soar.
Okay. I'm starting to sound like a Ray Boltz song.
Hopefully this post connects with you! Have you ever struggled with trying for the wrong reasons? Let me know in the comments!
Thursday, January 02, 2014
New Year, Same You!
What is it about us that makes us love a clean slate? I'm definitely one of those people. I love looking outside and seeing a sheet of white snow in its pristine state. It doesn't last long, because I have small children that leave behind a trail that looks like something a drunk buffalo would make. But, I enjoy it while it lasts.
Nothing makes me sigh in complete contentment like a freshly scrubbed bathroom, mopped kitchen floor, or washed kitchen table.
You know the feeling: sleeping on freshly laundered sheets, rolling around a freshly cut lawn, marvelling at how much better your walls look with a fresh coat of paint.
We love what is... unspoiled.
I think that's why New Year's Eve holds such a feeling of excitement, anticipation, and in a way, sanctity.
We make lists of things we want to change in the new year. I know I made one.
We look with hope at this year, standing before us wholly unspoiled.
For some reason, a lot of us look at this as our one chance for change. If we miss it, we have to wait an entire year before we can try again.
The truth is, the clean slate is always available.
Yep.
That's one reason why I waited until January 2 to begin working on my January goals. I felt like it was important for me personally to break the stigma of having to begin on the first day of the new year.
See, this year is different. It's the first year I've ever faced in my 30 years where I am extending grace to myself.
I've always convinced myself that being kind to myself and forgiving myself would cause failure. Turns out I was completely wrong.
Your clean slate is always available.
God doesn't care what day it is. He is interested in you. Your wholeness. Your healing.
His time scale is quite a bit different than ours.
Embrace His mercy. Let Him really love you.
Let Him show you your clean slate.
Even if it is January 2nd.
Nothing makes me sigh in complete contentment like a freshly scrubbed bathroom, mopped kitchen floor, or washed kitchen table.
You know the feeling: sleeping on freshly laundered sheets, rolling around a freshly cut lawn, marvelling at how much better your walls look with a fresh coat of paint.
We love what is... unspoiled.
I think that's why New Year's Eve holds such a feeling of excitement, anticipation, and in a way, sanctity.
We make lists of things we want to change in the new year. I know I made one.
We look with hope at this year, standing before us wholly unspoiled.
For some reason, a lot of us look at this as our one chance for change. If we miss it, we have to wait an entire year before we can try again.
The truth is, the clean slate is always available.
Yep.
That's one reason why I waited until January 2 to begin working on my January goals. I felt like it was important for me personally to break the stigma of having to begin on the first day of the new year.
See, this year is different. It's the first year I've ever faced in my 30 years where I am extending grace to myself.
I've always convinced myself that being kind to myself and forgiving myself would cause failure. Turns out I was completely wrong.
Your clean slate is always available.
God doesn't care what day it is. He is interested in you. Your wholeness. Your healing.
His time scale is quite a bit different than ours.
Embrace His mercy. Let Him really love you.
Let Him show you your clean slate.
Even if it is January 2nd.
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Value
Value is a silly thing.
Try explaining it to a kid. They see a shiny coin and will think that it must be far more valuable than a floppy piece of paper. If you take a three year old and give them a choice between a shiny penny and a five dollar bill, chances are they're going to grab the penny.
They don't see the value in cash like we do. They don't know the understood value behind the dollar bill; they just see a worthless scrap.
It's similar to the fact that we, the western culture consumers that we are, throw out tons of perfectly good "garbage" while holding onto other items for dear life.
It's not always about a monetary value, though. I'd be much more okay with someone stealing my television than I would my box of childhood memorabilia.
It all depends on what we determine has value.
In this day and age, we're quick to rip away the value from anything that has been cracked, stained, broken, tarnished. While our parents and grandparents would whip out the glue, duct tape and wd-40, we are just as quick to trash it and move on to the next.
Sadly, we do that to ourselves as well. When we fall, make mistakes, or don't reach our lofty goals, we deem ourselves worthless. We strip ourselves of all value.
God wants us to discover this crucial truth: He has created us! And then recreated us when we made a mess of ourselves. Ephesians 2:10 says we are God's masterpiece, a new creation in Christ Jesus, who made us for good things he planned for us long ago! There is such hope in these words.
God has created you intentionally. Specifically with the values that He has placed in you. He knew you were going to screw up. He knew that you would fail. He knew people would criticize you and mock you, and cause you to doubt that what He had created in you was real. He knew you would twist your values and use them for purposes that weren't His. He knew that you would try to ignore the values He's given you and run as hard as you could in the other direction.
But the truth is, the reality of who you are, the values placed in you by God himself, cries out to be heard. I know they have in me.
I've been lucky enough to have counselling that has really been life changing for me (I recommend it to everyone). One of the biggest things I've gained from counselling is learning what my values are. How God has wired me. They are the characteristics that I feel are most important (therefore put the most value in). For me, they are: compassionate, creative, visionary, and faithful.
I realized when I tried to ignore the values God had placed in me, I was miserable and angry.
I read a quote yesterday that really hit me. It's a C.S. Lewis quote, in the voice of the mighty lion, Aslan. He says:
"You doubt your value. Don't run from who you are."
How much time do we spend doubting and running, instead of believing and embracing?
When God redeems us, He does it because He loves us. He has place a value on us that goes far beyond what we could ever earn through our own effort. It is because He said it is.
So don't doubt your value. Don't run from who you are.
God is working in you. And when He has started something, He always finishes it.
Try explaining it to a kid. They see a shiny coin and will think that it must be far more valuable than a floppy piece of paper. If you take a three year old and give them a choice between a shiny penny and a five dollar bill, chances are they're going to grab the penny.
They don't see the value in cash like we do. They don't know the understood value behind the dollar bill; they just see a worthless scrap.
It's similar to the fact that we, the western culture consumers that we are, throw out tons of perfectly good "garbage" while holding onto other items for dear life.
It's not always about a monetary value, though. I'd be much more okay with someone stealing my television than I would my box of childhood memorabilia.
It all depends on what we determine has value.
In this day and age, we're quick to rip away the value from anything that has been cracked, stained, broken, tarnished. While our parents and grandparents would whip out the glue, duct tape and wd-40, we are just as quick to trash it and move on to the next.
Sadly, we do that to ourselves as well. When we fall, make mistakes, or don't reach our lofty goals, we deem ourselves worthless. We strip ourselves of all value.
God wants us to discover this crucial truth: He has created us! And then recreated us when we made a mess of ourselves. Ephesians 2:10 says we are God's masterpiece, a new creation in Christ Jesus, who made us for good things he planned for us long ago! There is such hope in these words.
God has created you intentionally. Specifically with the values that He has placed in you. He knew you were going to screw up. He knew that you would fail. He knew people would criticize you and mock you, and cause you to doubt that what He had created in you was real. He knew you would twist your values and use them for purposes that weren't His. He knew that you would try to ignore the values He's given you and run as hard as you could in the other direction.
But the truth is, the reality of who you are, the values placed in you by God himself, cries out to be heard. I know they have in me.
I've been lucky enough to have counselling that has really been life changing for me (I recommend it to everyone). One of the biggest things I've gained from counselling is learning what my values are. How God has wired me. They are the characteristics that I feel are most important (therefore put the most value in). For me, they are: compassionate, creative, visionary, and faithful.
I realized when I tried to ignore the values God had placed in me, I was miserable and angry.
I read a quote yesterday that really hit me. It's a C.S. Lewis quote, in the voice of the mighty lion, Aslan. He says:
"You doubt your value. Don't run from who you are."
How much time do we spend doubting and running, instead of believing and embracing?
When God redeems us, He does it because He loves us. He has place a value on us that goes far beyond what we could ever earn through our own effort. It is because He said it is.
So don't doubt your value. Don't run from who you are.
God is working in you. And when He has started something, He always finishes it.
Friday, October 25, 2013
A Follow Up
It's not really fair to write a post about being angry and then never follow up on it.
Alas, that is what I did.
It's funny- I was finally at a point in my life where for the first time in years, my life was devoid of major crisis and things were starting to come together.
The church my husband and I pastor was growing and vibrant and full of loving people. I had my dream job teaching worship and drama to high school students.
Life was good.
But I was so angry.
I didn't want to sit and wallow in my hurt and anger anymore. I was hurting the people I loved the most. I was miserable.
Thankfully, God was waiting to meet me in my brokenness.
When I was a little girl, I had this incredible love relationship with God. It was that beautiful, innocent affection a little girl has for her daddy. I couldn't get enough of Him. I loved to sing and write songs about Him. At church I would stand on the pews and sing at the top of my lungs. That was my happy place. I loved to preach sermons about Him and record them on cassette tapes.
For reasons I won't go into here, I began to feel shame about my effusive affection for my heavenly Father. I felt embarrassed that I was so intrinsically compelled to create and to worship the God I loved in such a loud and vibrant way.
I had lived my life so far in a complete abandon to who God created me to be without fear of rejection, and suddenly, I felt like I was told that who I was, that little girl who sang off key at the top of her lungs, was wrong. Was shameful. Was not good enough.
When that happened, my 5 year old self made two life altering statements:
1. Who I am is not good enough.
2. God thinks I am not good enough.
When I began to believe these statements, something in my little 5 year old heart changed. It hardened. I began making decisions that affected every aspect of my life. I set out to prove everyone wrong, and to change God's mind about me. If I could be perfect, then maybe people could see that I am enough.
The problem is, I'm not perfect. I sang in talent contests, I preached in church, I did well in school, I tried to be a good kid. But I still made mistakes. This need to please everyone and gain their approval created quite a disaster when a mistake was present. I became defensive and angry, because I was so desperate to not be seen as a failure.
And most of all, it put a huge wedge between myself and God. The love I had for Him didn't go away, but when joined with the thought that He saw me as a disappointment, I had an obsession with trying to be enough to make Him pleased with me.
This continued into my adult life. This constant cycle of trying to please and then giving up in frustration at my lack of perfection started defining every part of my life. In college, if I felt I was not doing well on a paper, project, or even a class, I would just give up. I'd rather guarantee my failure by giving up than try and fail. At least if I failed because I didn't try, I didn't feel like I was being rejected.
I was defensive at correction and criticism. It's like I had a gaping wound where my hurt and bitterness just gushed out like blood. I was a mess and it was affecting everyone around me.
God miraculously met me in my mess. He helped me discover the lies I've believed for years and began a process of restoration in my life.
He even worked through a friend of mine, who told me "God will restore the relationship you had with Him as a 5 year old little girl."
He had no idea the significance of what he was saying. But I did.
God is active in our lives. God is so eager to show us His love and extend His mercy.
He is in the business of redeeming what has been lost, restoring what has been broken, and resurrecting what has been left for dead.
I'm on a journey of restoration, and I feel more like that 5 year old little girl than I have in a very long time.
In His kindness God called you to share in His eternal glory by means of Christ Jesus. So after you have suffered a little while, He will restore, support, and strengthen you, and He will place you on a firm foundation.
1 Peter 5:10
Alas, that is what I did.
It's funny- I was finally at a point in my life where for the first time in years, my life was devoid of major crisis and things were starting to come together.
The church my husband and I pastor was growing and vibrant and full of loving people. I had my dream job teaching worship and drama to high school students.
Life was good.
But I was so angry.
I didn't want to sit and wallow in my hurt and anger anymore. I was hurting the people I loved the most. I was miserable.
Thankfully, God was waiting to meet me in my brokenness.
When I was a little girl, I had this incredible love relationship with God. It was that beautiful, innocent affection a little girl has for her daddy. I couldn't get enough of Him. I loved to sing and write songs about Him. At church I would stand on the pews and sing at the top of my lungs. That was my happy place. I loved to preach sermons about Him and record them on cassette tapes.
For reasons I won't go into here, I began to feel shame about my effusive affection for my heavenly Father. I felt embarrassed that I was so intrinsically compelled to create and to worship the God I loved in such a loud and vibrant way.
I had lived my life so far in a complete abandon to who God created me to be without fear of rejection, and suddenly, I felt like I was told that who I was, that little girl who sang off key at the top of her lungs, was wrong. Was shameful. Was not good enough.
When that happened, my 5 year old self made two life altering statements:
1. Who I am is not good enough.
2. God thinks I am not good enough.
When I began to believe these statements, something in my little 5 year old heart changed. It hardened. I began making decisions that affected every aspect of my life. I set out to prove everyone wrong, and to change God's mind about me. If I could be perfect, then maybe people could see that I am enough.
The problem is, I'm not perfect. I sang in talent contests, I preached in church, I did well in school, I tried to be a good kid. But I still made mistakes. This need to please everyone and gain their approval created quite a disaster when a mistake was present. I became defensive and angry, because I was so desperate to not be seen as a failure.
And most of all, it put a huge wedge between myself and God. The love I had for Him didn't go away, but when joined with the thought that He saw me as a disappointment, I had an obsession with trying to be enough to make Him pleased with me.
This continued into my adult life. This constant cycle of trying to please and then giving up in frustration at my lack of perfection started defining every part of my life. In college, if I felt I was not doing well on a paper, project, or even a class, I would just give up. I'd rather guarantee my failure by giving up than try and fail. At least if I failed because I didn't try, I didn't feel like I was being rejected.
I was defensive at correction and criticism. It's like I had a gaping wound where my hurt and bitterness just gushed out like blood. I was a mess and it was affecting everyone around me.
God miraculously met me in my mess. He helped me discover the lies I've believed for years and began a process of restoration in my life.
He even worked through a friend of mine, who told me "God will restore the relationship you had with Him as a 5 year old little girl."
He had no idea the significance of what he was saying. But I did.
God is active in our lives. God is so eager to show us His love and extend His mercy.
He is in the business of redeeming what has been lost, restoring what has been broken, and resurrecting what has been left for dead.
I'm on a journey of restoration, and I feel more like that 5 year old little girl than I have in a very long time.
In His kindness God called you to share in His eternal glory by means of Christ Jesus. So after you have suffered a little while, He will restore, support, and strengthen you, and He will place you on a firm foundation.
1 Peter 5:10
Friday, June 07, 2013
Anger
I'm angry.
I think I'll just start my post off with the honest to God truth.
I tried to start it off all nice and fluffy and work my way into the meat of it. But, nah.
Here goes...
I've got this friend.
Who I love dearly.
Who scares the ever living daylight out of me.
See, he's the one who always tells me like it is.
All it takes is four little words: "Can I be honest?"
Dang.
He lives in the Philippines, so I can do a pretty good job pretending like he doesn't exist most of the time.
But this friend recently visited us here in the frozen north. I was convinced he was here to inspire our church family as we work towards a relaunch, and to speak to the students at the Christian school where I'm a teacher. Which he did.
But that's not all he did.
One night I came downstairs after the kids went to sleep to find my friend sitting at the kitchen table having a talk with Trevor.
I went to wash the dishes, but was summoned to join them at the table.
Sigh.
I wasn't sure I could handle what was coming.
My friend looked at me and dropped the bomb:
"You're angry."
Of course, I cried.
Because I knew he was right. And I felt this outpouring of emotions I had dammed up inside me. I was angry. Because I was hurt. Which made me ashamed. Which made me defensive. Which made me angrier.
I am angry about the situations out of my control that have caused me and the people around me pain. I have a sense of injustice that creeps up my throat and feels like it's choking me most days.
I am even angrier about the situations in my life that are in my control, that I've created, that cause me and my family pain. These breed such a sense of shame, self-hatred, and worthlessness that makes it difficult somedays to simply put one foot in front of the other.
I'm angry, but I'm not hopeless. Because I know that this is not meant to be my life.
And it doesn't have to be.
It won't be.
I wish this was one of those awesome Jesus blogs that I could tell you I read my Bible and prayed a 37 second prayer and now I'm all better.
But I'm not.
I will probably never be "fixed."
Paul said in Philippians 3 that he hadn't reached perfection:
I'm just at the beginning of a long journey.
But by being honest about it, I've finally taken the first step.
I think I'll just start my post off with the honest to God truth.
I tried to start it off all nice and fluffy and work my way into the meat of it. But, nah.
Here goes...
I've got this friend.
Who I love dearly.
Who scares the ever living daylight out of me.
See, he's the one who always tells me like it is.
All it takes is four little words: "Can I be honest?"
Dang.
He lives in the Philippines, so I can do a pretty good job pretending like he doesn't exist most of the time.
But this friend recently visited us here in the frozen north. I was convinced he was here to inspire our church family as we work towards a relaunch, and to speak to the students at the Christian school where I'm a teacher. Which he did.
But that's not all he did.
One night I came downstairs after the kids went to sleep to find my friend sitting at the kitchen table having a talk with Trevor.
I went to wash the dishes, but was summoned to join them at the table.
Sigh.
I wasn't sure I could handle what was coming.
My friend looked at me and dropped the bomb:
"You're angry."
Of course, I cried.
Because I knew he was right. And I felt this outpouring of emotions I had dammed up inside me. I was angry. Because I was hurt. Which made me ashamed. Which made me defensive. Which made me angrier.
I am angry about the situations out of my control that have caused me and the people around me pain. I have a sense of injustice that creeps up my throat and feels like it's choking me most days.
I am even angrier about the situations in my life that are in my control, that I've created, that cause me and my family pain. These breed such a sense of shame, self-hatred, and worthlessness that makes it difficult somedays to simply put one foot in front of the other.
I'm angry, but I'm not hopeless. Because I know that this is not meant to be my life.
And it doesn't have to be.
It won't be.
I wish this was one of those awesome Jesus blogs that I could tell you I read my Bible and prayed a 37 second prayer and now I'm all better.
But I'm not.
I will probably never be "fixed."
Paul said in Philippians 3 that he hadn't reached perfection:
No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us. Phil 3:13-14
I'm just at the beginning of a long journey.
But by being honest about it, I've finally taken the first step.
“Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.”
― Mark Twain
A Change
Woo-hoo! I am officially the worst person in the universe for leaving people hanging.
Who really starts a blog series, even going as far as naming the first installment "Part One" and then NEVER finishes it?
(Imagine me pointing my thumbs to my chest) This guy. Girl. Whatever. You get the point.
So, I'm not even going to finish what I started. Maybe someday. But not today. Probably not tomorrow.
In fact, the whole nature of my defunct blog which is kicking back into gear is changing.
I'm not going to lie. It's easier to write funny things and tell stories from my childhood. Which I will get back to.
But right now they're just hiding what's really going on in me.
And that's what I want to share now.
Because maybe my fight will help someone else.
And I want to have a place to be completely open with what is currently going on in me, which up to now I've regarded with such shame I've kept hidden.
So...
Who really starts a blog series, even going as far as naming the first installment "Part One" and then NEVER finishes it?
(Imagine me pointing my thumbs to my chest) This guy. Girl. Whatever. You get the point.
So, I'm not even going to finish what I started. Maybe someday. But not today. Probably not tomorrow.
In fact, the whole nature of my defunct blog which is kicking back into gear is changing.
I'm not going to lie. It's easier to write funny things and tell stories from my childhood. Which I will get back to.
But right now they're just hiding what's really going on in me.
And that's what I want to share now.
Because maybe my fight will help someone else.
And I want to have a place to be completely open with what is currently going on in me, which up to now I've regarded with such shame I've kept hidden.
So...
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