Breaking a Myth

I wasn’t planning on spending my first week back in town by myself in our rather large apartment. I didn’t want to. When I learned everyone else would go back to their lives after our New Years get-together, I instantly dreaded these two days alone. What is there to do in a tiny ghost town with no friends present to accompany you?

Tonight I stood in front of my mirror and silently praised myself for not breaking down and wallowing in my isolated misery. And then I was struck with a lifetime of memories, voices telling me to be alone with myself, get to know myself, be single, etc. I laughed and thought, what could being single have to do with analyzing your person and learning who you want to be? Why do I need to be single to come to terms with the character I’ve been for 20 years?

I started dating my freshman year of high school and I haven’t really stopped since. I don’t think I’ve gone more than a few months as a single person since I started dating. Most call me ‘boy crazy’, some even went so far as to call my ‘church girl’ nature an act and I was really a whore. I call it trying. I was trying in all the wrong places…but I was trying none the less. Through out this time, I’ve been told the “advice” you read above. Because apparently I have too much on my plate when I try to live life while in a relationship. So why stop at the boyfriend? Why not cut out every single person I have a relationship with so I can focus on the all important ME? As if I haven’t spent 20 years staring at ME in the mirror and witnessing first hand the life of ME?

See, I find it very odd that people who have known me for as little as 2 years to 10 years find it their duty to inform me I don’t know myself. My oldest friend has been in my life for around 17 years and even though she has the most right to give me said advice, she has never taken the chance. I could bring in thousands of bible references and what not, but I’m going to leave this paragraph at the word hypocrisy.

Do you ever look at the people around you and wonder if they have the same intelligent thought processes you do? Do you ever wonder what makes them tick, how they think, their motivations, their opinions? I do. I do all the time. This is only a fraction of the miles of forests that would die if my every day thoughts were put on paper. I’m going to be honest….half the time what comes out of my mouth does not reflect what goes on inside. I’m sure that’s a problem most if not everyone has. I don’t need to be single to reflect on past actions, future actions, and life long dreams. I do that every second of every day. I reflect on that embarrassing moment at the dance hall while I do the dishes, I reminisce on interactions with teachers, family, friends, and strangers before I sleep at night. I study my face and body in my mirror as I wash my hands or after my shower, noting imperfections and loving other features. I know myself better than anyone on this planet. The only one who could know me better than I do is God. My boyfriend of 2 1/2 years is still learning what it means to be me.

It’s funny because dating boys helped me to learn about myself and shape my character into someone I was proud of. They never once held me back from growing, because when they did, I left. I’ve always been flighty, but it’s important to making ME.

I’ve become very independent through many experiences, most of them dating related. I’ve had to face a possible future without my boyfriend and I hate it, not because I need him, but because he has become such an important part of my life and I thoroughly enjoy having him. I could stand without him. I would be a little wobbly at first, but I could. Who wouldn’t be wobbly after such a long relationship? When you have someone beside you and suddenly they’re gone, it’s shattering. If this isn’t an indication of my independence and confidence in my being, then I don’t know what is.

I’m sitting on my couch, eating 3 Musketeers Bites, and watching Scandal, and I can’t help but think this is how you get to know yourself. Not by blocking your heart off to love, but being independent and unafraid to meditate. Later I’m going to call my sweet boyfriend and enjoy having a best friend to love me for me.

 

 

Bored With Being Insignificant

I’m bored. I’m bored with talking. I’m bored with writing. I’m bored with Netflix. I’m bored with Facebook. I’m bored with this town. I’m restless. It’s as if I’m waiting for something, but Lord knows what that is. I search my computer, flipping through tabs for something to do. I scroll through social media, uninterested in the mess our stupid world is in. I’m bored with ignorance. It’s the same thing every time.

I’m bored with the never-ending news of violence in the world and the way people seem to shrug their shoulders and move on. I’m bored with the selfishness around me. I’m bored with going in circles with stubborn, uneducated people. I’m bored with seeing the precious faces of my childhood friends in military uniforms, ready to kill for a broken country. Why do we kill? Why are your hearts so hardened?

I’m bored with being voiceless for every reason. I’m bored with being afraid. I’m tired of being told to change my attitude or fail in life. Change my perspective and demeanor or fall, because everyone is more damaged than I. What’s your damage? Do you see mine? I hide it well, can you tell?

I lose myself in albums from Owl City, Imagine Dragons, Never Shout Never, Ellie Goulding (the first, when she was actually likable), and Taylor Swift. I study them and memorize their lyrics, because everyone has something to say somehow. It’s the same for the cheesy romantic movies I watch and re-watch. This is where I learn.

I float to the balcony, hoping something interesting is waiting outside. I sleep early because it’s something to do. I stare at the list of online assignments waiting for me to complete them. I’m bored with school. Teach me something, I beg you.

I light candles not for their fragrance, but because it’s 10 seconds to be amazed by fire and play the game of lighting a wick. I’m a pyro, in case you were wondering.

I started writing a new novel. Did you know that? It’s my 3rd attempt. This one will be completed. I won’t allow myself to leave this one in the graveyard of my forgotten works. Morbid huh?

I wander about my day, half asleep, but really I’m inside my head contemplating things such as duty and finality. I’m bored with what this life has to offer me at this point, but it’s my duty to reach the finish line and receive a piece of paper. It’s my duty to support. My duty to lead. My duty to make something of myself. My duty to fit into line. My peers would call the list of duties I create “adulting”. I don’t want to adult today, please. Since when did everything bad in life become a verb? Adult used to be full of honor, something to be achieved. Not something to cringe at and roll over, snoring your way back to sleep. Did you know we have less than 5 billion years left? Our sun will become a Red Giant and swallow us in the process before our galaxy will be eaten by Andromeda. Andromeda collides in 5 billion years. We won’t see this occurrence. 5 billion years sounds like a long time…but it’s just a blink of an eye in matters of the universe. Who knows what we’ll be when we’re swallowed by the only thing keeping us alive? How ironic is it that the Sun, the huge ball of gas fueling our life styles, will be the one to snuff us out? The end of Earth. But I’m sure Pluto will be fine. It’s too far for the Sun to reach when it expands. And the scientists denied Pluto. Who will be the one laughing when we’re fried?

Do you see why I’m bored with life? We talk about trivial things like taxes and pointing fingers at other races, but we’re ants. Insignificant. I want to go somewhere and be someone instead of spending hours putting together outfits from my closet and straightening my hair. If 5 billion years is a blink, my life is nothing. I don’t want it to be nothing. I’ve already wasted enough time sitting at a desk, staring at the back of heads and computer screens.

Life starts with my engine. The memories I want are caught in the wind flying through the open windows and the giggles of my friends. They’re found in the stupid pictures I take of random treasures. I’m a junkie for the moment my heart soars, but here I am again…at a desk. I’m bored.

A Testimony for the Outsiders

It started when I was born a girl and handed to another family. A very Christian family. It built as I entered school and earned myself a seat in the ranks of quiet onlookers. It continued as boys and girls alike began to understand what little of the world they could when their ages were barely double digits. I was mocked for being a Christian. For carrying a mini composition book in my pencil bag to write my random inspiration in. For being too trusting. For not having an older sister present to teach me how to dress and act.

I was pegged as a target for pranks, games, and teasing. Someone who could take it and would still be your friend.

I always thought I was different. A black sheep in the family and my tight-knit group of friends. It wasn’t because I was adopted, because my sister (who is also adopted) has always fit in quite nicely. I just can’t seem to blend in with the crowd like I so desperately want to.

But I’ve clung to my groups all my life. I needed them. I still need them. All my life I’ve been ridiculed, pinched, poked, and prodded, and I still need them.

The same friends who defended me against the sick boys who laughed at me for being a Christian took up the habit of stealing my lunch and passing it around the table until I only had less than 10 minutes to eat. They often ganged up on me; whatever one said, the other swiftly followed. So, I left my usual lunch table to sit with my best friend who had long abandoned us for her new GT friends. (GT is an advanced program for kids in elementary and middle school who get bored in Pre-AP and regular classes) I had no place there. I was stuck. It was a small table even before I arrived, and I was just a desperate middle school-er taking a regulars spot.

Boyfriends came and went in grade school, monopolizing on my romantic nature and sweet disposition. I was used, abused, and manipulated. I was ridiculed yet again by the people I placed my absolute trust in. One even got bored with me because I wouldn’t Skype him at all hours of the night and left me for a few days to pursue another girl. I forgave him and took him back, only to find out a few days later he had tried to ask out one of my friends. I desperately wanted love. I forgave them. I was infatuated.

My opinion never mattered. Not even in my family. I was so sheltered, I didn’t really know much anyway..only what I had read and analyzed in my books. As I grew I even started sleeping in a tiny ball on the very edge of the bed so as to not bother my sleeping partner. I never got any sleep unless I slept alone. Being the introverted, nerdy, sheltered girl I am, I’ve been attached to the internet for a while. I spent hours on the kitchen desktop, posting to Facebook and exploring the webs while my mom cooked. One time we got a virus that downloaded fake porn apps to the computer, and my mom was furious because she didn’t believe I would never do something like that. In the Chat-Roulette/Justin.TV era, I found people around the world who never teased me like my “true” friends did, but instead talked to me as if I was an actual person who felt things. I was respected. My opinion mattered. My obsession with the internet and the world progressed.

After being the forgotten girl in a crowd of loud Theatre kids in High School, and constantly trying to find validation from parents who just couldn’t sympathize with my ever-growing awareness of the world, I was ecstatic to find a troop of true friends who understood me. I idolized them as gifts from God to make up for the constant struggle. Safe havens. I forgave them every time they pranked me as a collective. I forgave them when they made me feel like a child. I forgave them when they discounted my feelings. Summer came and I was the only one crippled by the separation, despite the shit I had dealt with throughout the year. I tried daily to keep conversations up, because I missed them and wanted to stay in their lives. I realized I was the only one trying. I was the only one trying, and when I did I only got rude remarks back. I stopped trying. It only took a few days of analyzing my past year to understand that recognize the patterns I had lived with my whole life. Even in college, we were still playing childish games, and I was still extremely naive.

I have yet to find more than 3 people who see me as more than entertainment. More than the giggly, blonde girl who is nice to everyone. I study and read to learn about the world. I have opinions. They matter. I contemplate life and enjoy the views and experiences Earth has to give me. 3 people have tried to dive deeper to witness those moments.

If there’s respect, I don’t see it. If there’s understanding, it isn’t being applied. As a Christian trying to follow in the path of Jesus, I’ve tried to live a life full of love and selflessness, and the only thing I get out of it is abuse of that trait. This is my wake up call. If you’re an outsider who can relate to these instances, you should wake up too. My advice? Find reciprocation. It’s draining to give and give without anything in return. You will burn yourself out. I’m burned out. Something needs to change.

Let’s Call This Self-Appreciation

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“I’m a nightmare dressed like a day dream”

This post is being read because I was either insane enough to actually publish it or I just don’t care what people think anymore…both are good options. Read at your own risk, I’m a teenage girl. 

Isn’t this a beautiful pile? I think it is. I tried to make it aesthetically pleasing for yall…I’m not the best decorator. You must be wondering why I’ve subjected you to such a boring snapshot of my life. This here is all that remains of the only poem I wrote during an era of confusion and desperate feelings. Silly emotions, really. The wonderful part? It caused me no pain to cut this into tiny pieces! I actually enjoyed it! Side note…I might have a cutting obsession. Not the bad kind. I like paper and scissors.

This is the beauty of moving on. I won’t divulge the gorey details of said emotional poem, but I’m sure you will agree that burning bridges is the best dang thing out there. Shall we change my Taylor Swift playlist to Miranda Lambert for a few minutes? I think I’ll start with Kerosene and end with Somethin’ Bad. Here we go!

You see, about this time last year I met Satan himself. If there was ever a reason for me to cling to my faith, it was his presence in my life. Isn’t that counter productive of him? I must be a pretty dang good Christian, if his games only made me run to God. Ah, but this Satan is only human…a little country dick who uses Jack Daniels to compensate for his lack of anything. Like a heart. Or a brain. And he made the mistake of calling me crazy and poisonous. Excuse me, Satan…have you looked in the mirror lately? Right…You don’t have the courage.

Well, I’ll be the first to admit he’s right. You’ve gone and followed a crazy girls blog. Makes you feel proud, right? I’m proud! I feel crazy right now, and it’s quite powerful. But the thing is, crazy is what makes me who I am. I’m pretty sure if I weren’t, I wouldn’t have this blog and my life would suck. I literally just stopped writing to chase a mosquito around my room. It doesn’t get more entertaining than that! I can go from Taylor Swift days to Halsey days in the same week. That should be enough to explain my personality. Crazy makes me creative. I write because I’m weird. Sometimes I’m an emotional mess, and I have weird, thoughtful outbursts, and I talk to mosquitoes while I’m killing them, but who wouldn’t want to be friends with that? So, Cowboy Casanova, I feel extremely sorry for you, because I am no longer in your life, and never will be again. What a sweet joy.

This piece is 99.999% sarcastic and 100% bitter. That’s what assholes and Miranda Lambert do to me. Please go back and read it as such, because I really want my readers to get the full experience. Just kidding! But in all seriousness, if you ever wanted to know what I would be like drunk, this is kind of it. Raw. No I’m not drunk. I do drink a lot of water though..

It’s Halsey time! Everybody flip to her song, Control, and jam out with me!

A Million Reasons Why

He holds my tear stained cheeks and tells me I’m worth more than I receive. While I fall apart, he picks up the pieces and glues them together with words of love and adoration, promising me I’m not what they say. He cried with me when I received news that my best friend was in the ICU, even when he barely knew her at that point. When others seek to tear him down he defends them to me so I won’t tarnish their image in my mind.

He gets excited with me over silly things like taking a floral design class. He doesn’t complain when I take his hand in mine in public, because he knows it brings me happiness. He reads and rereads my pieces and tells me I’m his favorite writer. He sends me sunset pictures because he knows how much I adore them. He cares for my friends and family because I care for them. He indulges my Taco Cabana obsession, even though we both know eating 5 tacos is horrible.

He pushes my comfort zone and waits to catch me if I fail. Every failure is given a dismissive wave and I’m given loving encouragement to press on. When I fall into horrible cases of writers block, he inspires me to keep writing. He tells me often how proud he is that I’m chasing my dreams, even when it means swimming against the current. He inspires me every day to write, do well in school, and be the best person I can be. His smile, His face, His voice is enough to give me strength when it all seems hopeless.

He’s a special work of art. He’s someone I could never truly figure out, even if I spent my whole life trying. He’s smart beyond belief. He sees more than I could fathom. He aches to study and learn and explore, just as I do. He has such a compassion for humanity and helping others.

They ask me why I stay and I just smile, because I know there isn’t another man on Earth I could be more proud to call mine.

The Wonderment Continues!

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Wow! What a day!! And I woke up thinking today was just going to be a sleepy travel day! God is so good and the world is full of amazing, kind people! <- excited, squeaky, probably talking to fast Shelby

First, to Jason of Harsh Reality, I can’t thank you enough. I could only dream of being reblogged one day and you are such a generous man to have given me such an honor! I owe you big time!

Second, to the people who read Jason’s blog and decided to check my little corner out, thank you for stopping by! Your time is very appreciated and I’m so excited to check out yall’s pages now! I am overwhelmed with the love and support I have received today.

Now for story time!

This week I’m giving into my wanderlust and exploring Wyoming! This morning I woke up at 3 am (ugh. why.) to catch a 6:20 flight to Denver, then to Salt Lake City, from which we drove to our final destination. (5 hours of beautiful views and wonderful sleep time!)

Thankfully, I got on the right planes this time, with the help of my travel expert parents. Denver was beautiful as always, and I was in awe of the beautiful view we received because of the cloudless sky. Does anyone like the descent as much as I do? I just like flying. I like taking off, because it feels amazing, I like flying because the views are incredible, and I like descending because coming down and flying over the cities amazes me to no end. Anywho! 2 plane rides, 2 mountain passes, and 1,000 miles later, we settled into our overpriced, extravagant cabin to await the rest of the clan. That’s right, within a few hours this poor house will be crawling with a large family of Texans, ages 10 to 75. What a week this will be!

I keep thinking back to my second flight, when I decided to check my email before we took off. I’m expecting replies from about 5 different companies on whether or not I got the job I applied for this month…no such luck. But that’s ok! Why? Because as soon as my wifi decided to quit being slow, the first of a most wonderful string of emails popped up! Reblogged? by OP??? I’ve known him to be very encouraging to other bloggers, and to have a habit of advertising worthy blogs out of nowhere, but I’ve always considered myself a background admirer! And then I freaked… “Mom! I just got reblogged!” Of course, I had to put a pause on my absolute excitement to explain to her the whole reblogging process and how huge it was to me. And then I checked my email again on the drive up, and out poured 50 billion additional emails spelling out how much he had really given me by simply clicking a button!

So now I sit on the back porch of this lovely cabin, in perfect weather, with a glass of perfect wine. (ITALIAN. OH MY GOSH.) And I shall spend the rest of my evening paying my respects and getting to know fabulous people! And then hit the hot tub. “Because we can” -mother dearest

I just feel so blessed, guys. So blessed and so content. I’m in awe of the opportunity I have to both be here and to carry on this crazy blog. And it all happened on the same day! Thank you for supporting my passion and encouraging me when I’m just a stranger to you. You are the kindest! All it takes is a comment or a finger swipe. Pay it forward!

Now, everyone go look at Jason’s website, and while you do that, I need some more wine… 🙂

(seriously. click on his name. It will take you to a place of sarcastic wonders.)