On The Day I Was To Be A Bride.

Today, I was supposed to be a Bride.

It was my day to walk down an aisle with my daddy, in a sparkly white dress, carrying my beloved sunflowers, all my best girls with me, and marry a boy I met in a whirlwind romance.

The past year of my life has had the highest of my highs and the lowest of my lows. I have been to the mountaintop of joy, tears bursting forth from happiness and finally having everything I have ever wanted. A job where I was making a difference and was loved by my students; a true group of friends that have been weeded out through the years until only a few remain--but oh those few are so sweet; the world’s best puppy; and finally someone who loved me and wanted to spend his life with me. I couldn’t believe how just a few months before meeting him, I had given up on ever meeting anyone who could possible be what he was to and for me.

We met and fell in love fast. Too fast.

My family loved him. His family did not take to me, or my family. Our engagment came like a fire, burning through our relationship at a time when I had resigned myself to not being engaged for many more months. You see, I had pushed our relationship from casual to serious by insisting that I wasn’t like other girls, and I didn’t want to live together before marriage and that I wanted kids right away and I didn’t want to wait to start my life. And it was scary for him. Because he wanted me. But not me. You see, he wanted the life I could offer him….parents that love him, a family that supported him, the world’s best puppy, a woman who would push him to be better and to do better. I have always had people pushing me in my life. My parents, my sister, my friends, my mentors, my roommates….I have always been pushed out of my comfort zone and out of my laziness to be a better person and to do better things with my life. I’ve never liked it, but it has led me to better things. And he has never been pushed. Ever.

Can I say that again? No one in his life has ever taken the time to push him into something he didn’t want to do. Not even when he was young. Ever.

Along comes this loud, bossy girl with a great family to push him around and he falls in love with the idea of a different life. He never loved me. He loved the idea of the life I could give him.

Do you see it?

I saw it. And I saw how his family treated me, and treated my family. And I saw how it made my family respond. I am not naive enough to think that marriage would be better when we were married. No, they would never be better.

And our relationship crumbled under the pressure from his family and my family, and the arguments---or rather my arguments and his silence. Our fragile bond couldn't withstand dealing with so much stress and when he refused to get a job--much less a high school diploma-- while I was working three jobs (one of them as a drama teacher where I was miserably trying to hold together a department that was being attacked on all sides), I knew I was not willing to live a life like that anymore. I ended our relationship two months after being engaged, just 7 months after we met. It was the worst few weeks of my life, when just a few days later, I resigned from my teaching job leaving my students behind. I have never felt so abandoned and so guilty, melding into the numb state I am in now. But time heals all wounds and at least it moves quickly.

Today I was supposed to walk down an aisle. The only aisle I walked down today was the aisle of the farmer’s market with my daddy, holding the world’s best puppy, looking at beautiful bouquets of sunflowers that I didn’t buy, and then I came home to the apartment I now live in by myself. I was rejected from my dream job at my alma mater because of my personality.  And Monday I will go to a job where I’m replaceable, but at least I have a job. And I’m alone and will probably be alone for a long time. But I tattooed a sunflower on my arm, cut off all my hair, and don’t have to starve myself to fit in a stupid dress.

I don’t think I will ever get to be a bride. But walking away from the marriage that should have happened tonight was still a choice I would make again. And every time I am struck with grief over the life I could have had, I remind myself that my reality is better than the reality that I would have been in, and the dream world I created around my non-wedding day today is just that...a dream.

When it all crashes down...

...what is the point?

Down in the Valley

When it snows, I feel hopeful. 

It's like the world has become right again. 

The white ground, the grey skies, the frost on the trees...that is how I love to see the world. 

I get that I'm an anomaly, a freak, and probably psychotic for being SO in love with snow, but I can't help it. Days that I wake up to a fresh snowfall hold way more joy for me than every other day. There is just something about snow.

****

I've noticed a trend lately. 

A lot of the people I love are feeling pretty miserable right now. There isn't a lot of joy, laughter is superficial and doesn't run deep, and there is this universal ache that is bubbling up from the inside. I only recognize this misery and ache because I feel it too. 

We are all trudging through the valley while staring up at the mountaintop, wishing for things to be different, hoping for things to change. 

Our hearts are empty, our souls are turning black and dying, we are becoming numb.

Down in the valley, we are broken. We are living like we are not alive. We try to find ways to numb the pain. We try to shock our systems into coming back to life. We cry out for someone to save us.

We are waiting for a miracle.

****

The first time I realized I was in love with snow, I was really young. It was around Christmas time and I lay under our Christmas tree staring up at the lights with my golden retriever, Storm, and I could see the snow falling outside from the window behind the tree. I remember thinking that snow was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was like glitter from heaven.

Even as I got older, as everyone around me lamented the cold, I knew that the cold meant snow. Snow meant hope. 

****

In the valley, hope is a pipe dream. Hope breaks your heart. Hope is that thing that sneaks up on you and then shatters you again and again. When you are down in the valley, hope can kill you. It promises that tomorrow will be better, and when you are down in the valley, it never is better. Everyday is the same. The same pain follows you around and you can't escape the misery. 

Down in the valley, you wish and pray and hope and dream. All for nothing.

*****

This morning I woke up and there was a fresh layer of snow on the ground. 

Hope. 

****

The only way out of the valley is up. You have to push yourself. You have to force your thoughts ever upwards. Every day, every moment, every time they sink back to the valley. It is painful, it is hard, and it is sometimes it feels like you will never succeed. But to leave the valley is so sweet. To know true joy and true happiness, one must have experienced pain. They are two sides of the same coin. To reach the mountain, you have to fight for yourself.

Hope is not the enemy, it is the lifeline of the valley dweller. 

When you are down in the valley, it is your choice. Keep walking or start climbing.

****

I hope it snows a lot this year. I don't mean that we get massive amounts of snow at one time, but that there is a consistent snowfall. Just enough so that the trees stay covered and the grass stays white. Maybe once a week, a dusting of snow so that I can go and stand outside, arms open, eyes closed, face to the sky...and soak in the joy of winter. The hope that comes from pure white snow and grey skies and frozen trees. 

Even down in the valley, I can still find that hope. And it makes me want to begin the climb out, even if it means changing everything. The mountain is worth it. 

Don't Read This Post

You rebel.

There is something to be said about this time of year.

Christmas. The season of joy. Of giving. Of love.

We get to bake amazing treats, shop for presents for family and friends, decorate our houses with lights and snowmen and nativity scenes. We wear ugly sweaters and santa hats and sing songs about snow. We watch Elf over and over, carry on family traditions, and prepare for a new year.

It's a magical time.

It has always been a particularly hard time for me. I feel like I'm beating a dead horse every time I talk about being single but I want to preface this by saying two things:

1. Please don't try to tell me that I will find someone in time. That a relationship will happen for me and just hold on for the right guy and blah blah blah I just threw up. I have been told that since I was 15 years old...and quite frankly, it makes me feel like a failure as a woman. When I'm told that I just need to be patient and wait...it makes me angry--hateful even. It is NOT a comforting thing to say to a single woman in her mid 20s. It just isn't. Try something along the lines of: Well at least there is Starbucks. Or: Good thing you have Netflix to keep you company!

2. This post is NOT a pity party for me. Nor should it be read as a pity party for anyone else. I have something to say to my married friends. And they need to hear it from someone who is single.

Ready?

I spend my time alone. I go to work, either at school teaching some pretty cool kids; or nannying for my boys...and then I come home and that's about it. My best friend drags me out with her every so often and she only gets away with it because she is my sister. If I didn't live with my parents. I probably wouldn't speak to a single person from after school Friday until Monday morning. I have wrapped myself in this cushion of solitude and there are only a few people who have dared to worm their way in during the course of my life. It's 9pm on a Saturday night and while my friends are off getting engaged...I am sitting silent in the dark with only the light of my Christmas tree. This is my reality.

Did you ever stop to think that there are people who have never heard someone tell them that they love them? I'm not talking about a parent, a sibling, or a friend...but a lover, a partner, a "significant other" if you will. Married, engaged, dating, loved friends of mine, you are lucky to have experienced something I have not. I have never heard the words "I love you" come from someone that I have loved. I have heard it a thousand times from my family and my closest friends, so do not think me deprived of love. I know how loved I am. I know the rivers of love that wash over me. But there is a piece missing in my life, and it's always around Christmas that it burns the most. The ache is almost unbearable, the sorrow fills every part of my soul. It's the absence of something I've never even had.

How can one miss something they've never had?

But you, dear friend, the one reading this who is married, engaged, or in a relationship....you've heard that simple phrase before. You've experienced what it means to be loved, to be chosen, to be wanted. You have a gift that men have fought and died for. They write songs about it, tales are told, novels and movies explode with stories of love. And you have it.

And I watch you waste it. You take it for granted because it's normal for you. Fighting, bickering, and arguments are commonplace. Friend after friend comes to me to tell me their marriage woes and it shatters my soul.

Oh loved one, do you not see? Do you not realize? So many of us long for a taste of what you have, a fraction of that emotion. To be wanted, desired, chosen, adored...oh loved one, wake up!

I want to call you to action this Christmas. Stop what you are doing and tell your spouse (or fiance/e, boy/girlfriend, or whatever) right now. Tell them you love them. Tell them that you still choose them. That you adore them and are so glad that they chose you too.

This is the season of joy, of giving, of love. Let's not waste it.

And if you are single like I am...don't worry. There is always Starbucks.

So Write...

My best friend sent me a text last night. It was really simple, but it was exactly what I needed to hear. She said to me, "So write."  Let me back up...

For the past few months I have wanted to do something that would truly be detrimental to myself. It would ruin my life in a lot of ways and even though I realize this, that fact hasn't stopped me from wanting to do this unnamed thing. (No, I am not going to tell you what this thing is. It's just not going to happen.)

 I have been talking to her about this thing I have wanted to do, and she--being a woman of wisdom and insight--has advised me against doing this thing. She consistently reminds me to avoid the thing I wanted to do, pulling me back into the reality of the situation, guiding me back into joy and lifting me out of despair. She has been a source of light in this dark part of my world and for the past few weeks during the midst of my crisis she was a constant source of truth. Her texts to me said things like:

You are good enough. 

You are too hard on yourself.

You are going to be okay.

Give it time.

Wait for it. Stop chasing it so hard.

Take it one step at a time, and everything will fall into place. Don't rush it.

This past week I was at the point where I had mentally made the decision to go ahead and do the thing I wasn't supposed to do, the thing that my best friend advised me against, the thing that would probably ruin my life. But before I did, I remembered my best friend. And the things she has been saying to me. And I stopped myself. I walked away from the situation and I called my best friend. I left her a voicemail saying that this toxic, poisonous thing that we had been talking about for months was over. Maybe it's not over forever, but for now, it's over. She text me back.

I am so proud of you.

Thanks. I feel empty now. Such is life I guess.

I sent the reply and carried on with my evening. She didn't respond for a few hours. Maybe she was busy, maybe she was giving me time. I don't know, but I'm glad for the delay in response. It was 10:30pm and I was just settling into bed for the night. My phone went off and when I read those two words I knew that this was a person who knows me. 

So write.

That's exactly what I plan to do. My best writing comes when I'm empty. And through the chaos of everything happening in my job right now, I do feel empty. And this is the time to be writing. Thank you, best friend, for reminding me where my heart lies and how to fill the emptiness again. It's in filling a blank page with words. That's how I cure the emptiness in my soul, the desire to ruin my life by making stupid choices, and take the edge of the anxiety of my job. All it took was my best friend to text me something so simple to remind me of my path in life. 

I don't know what you need to hear. I don't know what you are struggling with, fighting for, pushing against, or denying in your life. Maybe you are in the same boat as I am. You want something you know you shouldn't want, and you need to make a choice. Maybe you don't have anyone encouraging you, or maybe you just aren't listening. That's okay. I just want to tell you to listen to the rational part of yourself. Run to the people who know you, who love you, who are going to tell you the truth--not the people who are going to tell you what you want to hear. Follow the advice given to you--even though it is painful, hard, and unfair--so you can be free. So you can live apart from the desire of the thing you should-not-want-but-you-want-anyway. So you can begin to redefine who you are apart from that thing. And then actually BE apart from that thing. Maybe you don't know how to live without that struggle in your life. I get that. 

So write.

When It Is One Of Those Days...

Have you ever had one of those days where everything seems to go the opposite of how you wanted and expected it to go?

You get angry emails. You run out of time. You fail to communicate properly. You lose patience. You aren't very kind. You are starving for lunch and then by the time you get to eat you feel sick for hours afterwards. You say stupid things in front of your boss. You can't hide your inexperience anymore. Everyone can tell you are overwhelmed. Everyone knows you are in over your head. You are not doing a very good job---at hiding it, at faking it, at anything really. You embarrass yourself in front of the people you are trying to impress. You wore the wrong outfit. You choked on your snack. You can't answer anyone's questions...even though they are the same questions from last week. You still don't have the answers, you still don't have the results, you still don't know what you are doing.

You drive home, and you think---WHAT AM I DOING?

I should quit. I should pack a bag, move to Colorado, change my name, and never come back. I should crash my car. I should just keep driving. I should go home, get my dog, and drive to Canada. 

The rock in the pit of your stomach doesn't go away, the anxiety builds, you try not to cry, try not to blow up at your family. You try to pretend everything is fine. It's okay. Just watch TV, take a bath, write a blog post. You fight through the waves of sadness, the waves of panic, the familiar pull of despair that you've fought for so many many years. You talk yourself in and out of doing insane things, like chopping off all your hair, or branding your skin with hot metal just because you can. You realize that you are being insane and so you lay on your bed and stare at the clock.

The numbers flip. Fours turn to fives. A six to a seven. The red lines start to blur as your eyes cross. Is it a respectable time to try and go to sleep? 10pm. You decide to read your favorite book and forget about this awful day. You slip into the world of make believe and allow the real world to start to fade away. You fall asleep, wrapped tightly in your blankets, tension filled and anxiety ridden. And even though you are still alone, still a failure in your own eyes, and all the things of the day are still true, you have a chance for peaceful dreams. And when you wake up, it will be a new day.

When it is one of those days, sometimes all you can do is hold out for tomorrow.

Cha...Cha...Cha...Changes

I've gone through some huge changes the past three months.

• I am no longer a nanny. It was the hardest decision I've ever made. I miss my kids, but I still get to see one family once a week so that is really great.

• I teach Drama at my alma mater, CLS, and with that comes directing a play and a musical. It is the most overwhelmed I have ever felt and every day I question my choice to take the job until I'm with my students. They are the 35 best kids I could have hoped to teach, and I am loving teaching them and seeing them tap into the potential they have been holding inside for years. 

• I have my dream car, a 2006 Jeep Liberty Limited. Her name is Huckleberry Quinn and she is legit. 

Some things haven't changed. 

I still live at home. I still spend all my time with my puppy, Duffy--mostly because he is the only one around/that wants to spend every waking moment with me (although to be fair, he wants to spend time licking up my nose and in my mouth...so maybe not true love?) and I'm okay with being with my Duffster all the time. I am still glaringly single, still racked with insecurity and self doubt (always great qualities when starting a new job that is overwhelming, by the way...), and still fighting waves of depression as often as the clouds go by.

Life is both drastically different and painfully the same. It's a weird place to be.

I find myself sleepless at night, always thinking of things I need to do, anxious about how I can possibly get things done, and worried about being the right person for the job. I'd like to now type an uplifting paragraph where I realized that God put me where I am and of course I can handle everything and obviously I'm loved and enough and worth it...but I'm just not there yet.

I'm not at a place where I can honestly say that I can handle it all.

I can't say I feel loved, or enough as I am, or even worth loving.

I feel like I'm not only going to fail, but constantly letting everyone's expectations down. I have these shoes to fill that are placed on this unattainable pedestal and there is just no way to compete.

So I'm not going to.

I am okay with failing. I am okay with not being good enough. I am okay with never being loved like the fairy tales or how I see my friends being loved. If I screw up royally at this job and everyone hates me, well...bummer.

What I AM going to do is this: I am going to put on two kick ass shows. I am going to teach these kids everything I know, the best way I know, and I will not pretend that I'm someone I am not.

I am me, I am not perfect, and I have a job to do. Enjoy the show.