The One on Anxiety

The day after Patrick and I got engaged was one of the most confusing days of my life. I remember it vividly. I was at work and I remember showing everyone my ring and smiling but not actually feeling happy. I knew that getting engaged was what I wanted and that I wanted to be with Patrick forever but I couldn’t help but to feel anxious and stressed.

I remember being really baffled by my feelings. Just 24 hours earlier I had my dream cemetery proposal and now I was telling people about it and pretending to be happy. Our proposal was magical and everything I ever wanted and yet there I was, a day later, feeling uneasy and afraid.

So, I went downstairs and placed one of the most important phone calls of my life. I called a therapist. When they answered they asked me some questions about my life, if anything was going on and what led to me calling. I remember thinking about the engagement and how much I loved my job and how things in my life actually were going really well.

They asked me if I was feeling sad about anything. I remember trying to answer them but before I could I just started to sob. I responded to them and said “on paper my life is perfect but I just can’t seem to shake this feeling of heaviness and dread. I should be happy but I’m not. I’m just afraid.”

I remember crying for what felt like forever but was probably only a minute or two. The person on the line thanked me for sharing and said that I could schedule an appointment for the next day.

That was two and a half years ago, I have been going to therapy for anxiety ever since. I’ve been in counseling for a little over two years but I think I’ve been struggling with anxiety for almost five years. The three years before I started therapy were wildly perplexing. I thought I was going mad. I couldn’t understand why certain things would make me feel so much fear. Why certain scenarios made my shoulders feel heavy and my chest tight.

Honestly, I still don’t understand why it happens but at least I know what IS happening. When my heart is beating fast like I just went for a jog and my hands are sweaty, I’m not having a heart attack; it’s anxiety.

There were times when I would get ready to go to work and I would feel this intense fear come over me and thoughts of dying in a car accident would flood my mind. I would stand outside my car, keys in hand, unable to open the door and get in. The feeling was almost crippling. I felt so shackled by the anxiety.

I’m bringing this up today because in the last few weeks I’ve felt freer. I can feel myself coping better. I can feel myself walking through situations with less fear and less nervousness. I can feel myself having less anxiety than I did before. Less anxiety than I did six days ago even. The therapy is working ( in conjunction with meditation and prayer ) and I wish that I had the courage and the resources to start going sooner.

I wish that I thought of therapy earlier. I wish that someone had suggested it to me sooner. I wish that someone would have told me that I wasn’t going mad, or having a heart attack but rather feeling a normal emotion that lots of people feel.

In the last few weeks I’ve felt freer and that made me think that maybe if I speak up, other people could feel freer too.

It doesn’t have to be this way. You don’t have to suffer in silence. There is no shame in what you’re going through. You are loved and wanted and you are deserving of brighter days. If you’re struggling with anxiety you’re not alone and if you need to talk to someone that’s not a sign of weakness but rather strength.

Therapy has taught me that I am not broken but rather beautifully human. That I am not a freak but rather extremely normal and, in the majority, in regards to how I’m feeling. Therapy has taught me that to be vocal about my pain and my fears is to release myself from their hold on me.

My name is Nicole Magloire and I struggle with anxiety. I am currently in therapy; I have a session tonight actually and in the last few months I’ve seen a lot of improvement. I believe that there is freedom in sharing our stories and that there is no shame in struggling with our mental health or seeking professional help.

I am whole, I am normal and I am free.

Until next time,

Xoxo – N

A Thought on Interracial Relationships.

When Patrick and I met, in November of 2016, I was a year into my journey of Black liberation. I was working at Goodwill Industries and my friend Olivia, still one of my best friends, had opened my eyes to the beauty of Blackness. She talked to me about Black art and Black movies, Black poets and Black activists. She was cool and hilarious, outgoing and bubbly, crazy smart and spontaneous and unbelievably proud of her heritage. Proud to be Black. I had never met anyone like her before. I tell her often that she changed my life the moment I met her and I mean it.

Olivia introduced me to an aspect of Blackness that I had never seen before. Blackness that was vast and deep. Blackness that was goofy, grounded, vulnerable and open. Blackness that enveloped me. Blackness that left me curious and wanting more. Blackness that made me over flow with self-love and a deep appreciation for the texture of my hair and richness of my skin. I had never looked at Black people with such wonder before and it was powerful and exciting and it still is.

So, I was in deep when I met Patrick. I knew that a seed had been planted and that the trajectory of my life was interrupted. Things that I didn’t talk about before I couldn’t help but to bring them up in conversation. Things that I went years, decades, without noticing caught my attention. I think that’s what it means to be woke. It’s like getting glasses and finally being able to see the world clearly.

Our relationship took off fast. Within two weeks of meeting we were official, after a month of dating we were in love and a year and a half in, we got married. The reason that our relationship took off so quickly is because Patrick was not only on the same page as me but he was also on his own journey. I remember going to his apartment and seeing a book by James Cone called The Cross and the Lynching Tree on his night stand. A book that is described as “reconciling the gospel message of liberation with the reality of Black oppression and suffering during the lynching era.”

Before I came into the picture, Patrick was doing the work. The necessary work, that white men in America should be doing. Making sure they know all of the ways that they benefit in society because of the color of their skin and their sex. The ways that their ancestors designed systems without Black people, people of color or women in mind. The way that religion, in this case Christianity, has been manipulated and defiled in order to oppress. These were topics that were already on his mind and on his lips before I ever came into the picture.

People ask me often what it’s like being married to a white person at a time like this. They ask me if Patrick is comfortable having these conversations. They ask me if we’ve talked about racism and oppression and if he is understanding and receptive. The answer is, I wouldn’t be with him if he wasn’t. When we met, I knew too much. I had seen too much. I was aware of too many things. Things that made it impossible for me to enter into a relationship or even a friendship with someone who wasn’t interested in talking about it.

We’ve been together for almost four years and Patrick works hard and is diligent but he still doesn’t always get it right. Sometimes he says things that are problematic. Sometimes he perpetuates stereotypes and does things that show his privilege in society. In those moments I don’t let what happened go. I address it. We talk about it and he works on it. It’s not easy. At times it’s really hard but we’re both willing to do the work. We just keep doing the work.

I’m Black and I’m bursting with Black love and fighting for Black liberation and I still, deep inside of me, hold anti-Black beliefs. It’s true and to try and deny it would be to deny reality. It’s because I am a product of our society. A society that was founded on white supremacist values. Values that, even without any effort on our part, become entrenched in our psyche and subconsciously feed us messages. Messages that align with the whiteness agenda.

If I hold them and I am deceived by those beliefs at times, I do not expect Patrick to be completely void of them. What I expect from Patrick is a devotion to constantly working to be the best version of himself. For me that means being dedicated to self-reflection and self-evaluation. That means thinking before he speaks and evaluating the root of his thoughts.

If a racist thought crosses Patrick’s mind I expect him to challenge, interrogate and fight that belief. I expect him to wrestle with it and pick it apart, until it’s shown to be without merit and it ultimately dies. That is was it means to be anti-racist. It means that at the very sight of racism or prejudice within ourselves we attack it. We shine a light on it and we refuse to let it go back to it’s dark and evil place of hiding. We expose it and we destroy it. That’s what I expect from Patrick and that’s what I expect from myself.

I didn’t set out to marry a white man, especially on the cusp of my Black awakening but then I met Patrick. Our love has not interrupted my journey but rather made it more beautiful and robust. When I think about the future I do not envision a world that is separate but equal but rather a world that is equitable and fair; one that we all get to enjoy together. My relationship is a reflection of my values.

My belief that we can exist and that we can thrive together. That we can choose to reject the lies that we’ve been told about superior and inferior. That we can redistribute power. That we can, as much as is possible with this system, step out of our privilege and refuse to accept more as others continue to receive less. That we can love someone who looks different than us without contributing it to being colorblind. That we can, one day, completely rebuild this system and create something that allows us all to thrive.

Until next time friends,

XOXO- N.

Creating Onramps and Inviting In.

Before Patrick and I left Denver, we attended an event at Denver University. It was one of many talks in a collection called Catalyst Series for Social Justice. The main speaker was an activist from Baltimore named DeRay Mckesson. DeRay said a lot of things that impacted me but there was one comment he made that stuck. DeRay said, “we don’t all enter conversations at the same point or level, so sometimes you have to create onramps for people.”

Creating onramps for people…what a concept.  It’s something that I think about often. I used to think and journal about it daily. How do we create onramps? It’s difficult and takes time and practice. It requires that you see the other person’s point of view and where they are in their learning. I think it requires love and patience and grace. It demands that you step outside of yourself and your feelings in order to serve the relationship.

I have not mastered the art of creating onramps but I do think that I have reached a level of proficiency. To me, creating onramps means disagreeing with people well and respectfully. Lovingly sharing information and pointing out wrong doings. It’s about prioritizing the relationship while still valuing truth and your own mental and emotional well-being.

I want to be clear that I’m not talking about engaging with acquaintances. This is not a toolkit for how to deal with some random dude online that says racist and hurtful things. I’m talking about the people in our lives that we want to continue to be in our lives. Our friends and relatives. People that we love and cherish. People who we can trust. People who love us and want the best for us and yet at times, say and do things that hurt and disappoint us. So, when that happens how should we respond?

If someone I love posts something that bothers me, feels dismissive of my feelings or is even racist, the first thing I do before I message them is check my intentions. I do that by asking myself a series of questions. Why am I messaging them? What do I hope to gain from this interaction? What exactly did they say or do that bothers me? Was their comment actually racist or did it just offend me? Am I in the right frame of mind to have a thoughtful discussion?

It’s important for me that I’m able to formulate answers to those questions. If my intentions are not aligned with the goal of creating onramps and inviting them INTO a conversation, then I do not engage. I do this for the sake of the relationship. I do not want to say something from a place of anger and pain that blocks learning and progress, even if that anger and pain is warranted.

Once I’ve checked my intentions and find them to be aligned with my values, I take a moment to outline what happened and identify why it’s problematic. In order to do this, I again ask myself a series of questions. What did they say? Why is it dangerous? Why was it hurtful to me? How could this be hurtful to others? How does that belief system or rhetoric connect to bigger systemic issues?

I like to believe that when our friends and family say or post hurtful things, that it’s not intentional. I have to believe in good intent even when the outcome is painful. So, when I’m answering these questions, I’m attempting to meet them where they are and to draw a line for them. A line from what they said to where it landed.

This takes a lot of mental and emotional work. Which is why I don’t do it for everybody. When a random person that I met in college says something crazy online, even if I considered them to be a friend, I delete them. That might sound extreme, maybe it is extreme but for me it’s necessary. It takes so much energy and space to engage in these conversations that I make it a priority to do so thoughtfully and sparingly. When I count the costs, sometimes I find that it’s emotionally and mentally cheaper to just remove that person from my space then to muster up the energy to have a discussion.

Connecting what a person said to a bigger systemic issue is something I learned from Ijeoma Oluo in her book So You Want to Talk About Race. The idea is to show them how their comments can have far reaching impacts. The words that we say, especially ones that perpetuate racist and prejudice stereotypes, have power. When someone makes a joke about a Black woman being aggressive because she advocated for herself, it’s not just problematic, it’s harmful.

Those kinds of stereotypes when believed by a supervisor can lead to a person getting written up or even fired. If I can’t speak up without someone calling me aggressive, confrontational or a threat, that can lead to me internalizing that belief and advocating for myself less. Which can lead to me potentially enduring abusive situations because of fear of being labeled and stereotyped.

When we show the people in our lives how their beliefs and their comments cause real harm, I believe it humanizes the issue for them. It goes from being just a “joke”, or just a “comment”, to being something that is hurting their loved ones. So that’s why I make it plain and clear and outline the pain that has been caused and how it connects to a bigger issue.

Once I have checked my intentions, outlined what happened and identify why it’s problematic the last thing that I do before reaching out is set a goal. I set a goal so that I can have a north star to guide me through the conversation. Something to navigate towards, and direct me so that I don’t get too sidetracked and end up defeating the purpose.

I center the goal on aspects of the conversation that I can control. For example a goal may be “to clearly communicate how their comment perpetuates racist stereotypes.” It’s a goal that is simple, clear and easy to follow. The goal is also realistic. I stray away from creating goals like “to make sure they never say or post anything harmful again.” A goal like that not only centers the response of the person I’m engaging but it leaves no room for mistakes. Trying to go from 0-100 can lead to resentment and broken relationships. We’re human and often change takes time, give them and yourself grace by making sure your goal is simple and realistic.

To recap, before I engage in prickly conversations with the people I love, I check my intentions and make sure they align with my core values of creating onramps and inviting people INTO a space of learning. Next, I outline what happened and identify why it’s problematic making sure to tie the stereotype to a larger systemic issue. Lastly, I create a goal for the conversation and use that as my north star to guide the discussion.

If it seems like a lot of work, that’s because it is. I think that anything as important as addressing harmful behavior and rhetoric in our inner circles, is bound to be time consuming but what other choice do we have? Ignore it and hope someone else addresses it? Act like it never happened and continue in ignorance? I think not. I’ll work on holding my people accountable and inviting them into a space of growth and learning and I ask that you do the same with yours.

I hope that this post is helpful for you as you navigate tough conversations with the people that you love. I’m rooting for you!

Until next time,

XOXO - N

Beautiful is the body; a poem and a story.

I’m amazed by the way that bodies change

Hardening and softening

Muscles growing from weights lifted

Skin expanding from babies being created and formed

Waists slimming and filling out through different phases of life

How amazing the body is

With the way that it endures trauma yet isn’t destroyed

Is bruised and broken yet still breathing and existing

How amazing is the body and the way that it is built

Carrying us through our day

Lifting up our children

Tiny muscles coming together as we move and navigate the world

What a fantastic gift we’ve been given

These bodies of ours

May we acknowledge and celebrate them

For the ways that they expand and contract

The ways they protect and guard

For all that they do

These beautiful bodies of ours.

My body has changed a lot during this COVID season. It evolved and adapted with the circumstances. It expanded and contracted, skin stretched and then retreated back to how it was before. All in an effort to keep me protected and keep me safe. My body knew what it needed to do in order for me to survive. When my brain checked out and my reason followed, my body stepped in and held me up and guided me back to me.

When we began to feel the impact of COVID-19 and talk of quarantine started I was excited about the idea of working from home and being in the house. As an outgoing introvert, I enjoy time with others but I love time alone. It refuels me and keeps me centered. I did not expect or anticipate the anxiety that enveloped me when quarantine became a reality. You know those panic buyers? The people that loaded their grocery carts with cans of corn and toilet paper and flour? I can empathize with them. I was almost one of them.

The first week of quarantine I became fixated on the idea of always having an abundance of eggs in the house. I eat eggs every morning and the idea of running out of them ignited a panic within me. I don’t use that word lightly; I genuinely mean a true panic. The thought of it would make me feel deeply anxious. To make matters worse, one day I went to the store to buy some and the shelves were empty. I left my cart right there, in front of the display and went to my car and cried. I was so upset and shaken that I nearly had a panic attack. If you know me well than you know that it’s not like me to react in that way about something so minuscule. I wasn’t feeling like myself, I felt so overwhelmed and filled with dread. It took a few days before we could get eggs but we never ran out, we never even came close. This is only a snapshot of weeks of intense feelings of anxiousness.

I look back at that time, which was only a few months ago and I feel so grateful for the way my body filled the gap that my anxiety created. It was so beautiful and unexpected and necessary.

Now that I’m on the other side of that dark season, I am very mindful of the way that I treat and speak about my body. This body that carried me when my mind couldn’t orient me. This beautiful, strong, body that fed me and made me move when anxiety and depression told me that staying in bed all day and not eating was a better idea. This body that allowed me to melt into a hug and a kiss from my partner and really feel it when my mind seemed so far away.

I love my body but more importantly now, for me at least, I trust my body. I trust that when I’m in a healthy place my mind and body can work together and when I’m not, that the strongest part of me at the time will step up. What a beautiful revelation to have, right? That when darkness seems to be encroaching around you that light will shine from an unexpected place.

I feel stronger now. I’ve talked to my therapist and she gave me some tools and now I feel more equipped to handle life. Thank God for therapy. If something like this happens again I’ll have the resources and experience to navigate it. I don’t feel shame around the fact that I struggle with anxiety. Soon I will write about mental health in the Black community and the importance of being vocal about it and normalizing it. I am hoping that anxiety will not be a lifelong challenge for me but it’s here for now.

I haven’t experienced waves as strong as the first week of quarantine but it lingers near like a low tide. At times it cripples my reason and at others it is simply a distant concern. As talk of a second wave intensifies so does the roar of this illness but I’m keeping it at bay. Tough is the anxiety but beautiful is the body that holds me down as I navigate it. Beautiful is the body that gives home to this soul that keeps me sane when things get scrambled. I’m amazed by the ways that bodies change, hardening and softening but I’m even more amazed by the way that when we’re lost, they carry us home.

The Proposal!

Where do I start? Sunday was one of the best days of my life because my best friend and partner in laughter and joy asked me to spend the rest of my life with him. It was the sweetest proposal, so simple and lovely. I can't even believe it's real and that I have this beautiful ring and this amazing man and that I'm a few months away from getting a whole new set of amazing humans added to my family! I'M SO EXCITED!! 

Patrick and I met on November 21st, 2016, became a couple on December 5th and by New Years Eve of that year I had a feeling that we were going to end up going the long haul. I remember being at a party with a group of my friends, Patrick was in Fort Collins with his family and telling them that I was going to marry this guy. Half of the room ignored me, a few of them laughed but two people tuned in and their opinions were on opposite sides of the spectrum. My friend Isaiah looked at me and said "I know you will. I think you really will marry Patrick," and then continued drinking his whiskey.

While another friend looked at me and said "You can't be serious, right? You sound crazy. I mean, you just met this guy! Sorry to be the one to tell you but that's not going to happen." I remember feeling so embarrassed and looking at the ground and Isaiah tapped me on the shoulder and whispered in my ear, "she's wrong." 

Growing up my siblings and I attended a home school group at Cheltenham Church in Maryland. We would go there every Wednesday and when I didn't have a class I'd go outside with my friends and play in the cemetery that surrounded the church. We would play out there week, after week, after week and eventually I developed a deep fondness for Cemetery's. One that led me to seeking out graveyards in every new city I visited and eventually deciding that it would be a dream come true to one day be proposed in one. 

When I visit a cemetery I don't think about death or ghosts or anything scary. Rather, I think about the joy of being a kid and being surrounded by the people who love you the most. When I visit a graveyard I reminisce on my childhood and how the fun seemed endless. Now when I think of a cemetery I'll think about April 29th, the day that Patrick asked me to be his wife. 

Everyone keeps asking me if I was surprised and the truth is, not really. Patrick is HORRIBLE at keeping secrets and as soon as he bought the ring he told me and leading up to the day he was dropping hints like a mad man so I knew that the proposal was going to happen. I'm not disappointed at all that it wasn't a surprise. The fact that I knew it was going to happen took the pressure off of both of us and instead of me always wondering when we were getting engaged I could just be excited about HOW he was going to do it instead of WHEN. 

On Saturday afternoon Patrick told me that we needed to leave right after church on Sunday and that I'd have time to go home and change but I needed to be ready by noon. So after church I rush home, take a quick power nap (Lord knows I can't function without a nap) picked out my clothes and was ready just in time to be picked up. Patrick picks me up and he can barely keep it together. His eyes are all watery and he keeps saying how excited he is and that we're about to have our biggest adventure yet.

 At this point I'm beside myself with excitement. I'm dressed super cute and Patrick has on a T-shirt, so I'm like ughhh okay, what's happening here? He just laughs and tell me to be patient. We get in the car and before I know it we're pulling up to Patrick's parents house in Fort Collins. We get out and go inside and it seems just like a normal visit, we all sit down on the couch and start talking and hanging out. 

After about 30 minutes Patrick says he has to run an errand and leaves. 45 minutes later he comes back and he's now dressed really nice and he's telling me to grab my things because we're leaving. I jump up, because by now I'm SOOO anxious to see how he's going to do it and I hustle to the car. We get in and go for a little drive and he takes me to this area where we're surrounded by rolling hills and he pulls off to the side of the road and says that we're getting out. 

We get out of the car and there's a fence next to us but I can't really see much, all I see is the fence and the hills. He takes my hand and walks me over to a gate where I see the sign 'Bingham Hill Cemetery.' The sign is white and really old and it's attached to this beautiful thin gate that zig zags and we have to enter one by one because it's so small.

He tells me that we're going to be walking somewhere and on our way there are going to be a few things that I have to find. As he's talking I'm trying so hard not to cry because I'm so happy and excited and Patrick looks so handsome and everything is so beautiful, I'm just overwhelmed. We walk down this path and over a small bridge and there's a creek next to us and we have to duck under a tree branch and walk over weeds and with every step more of the landscape is revealed and it's gorgeous. 

Within like 30 seconds of walking up the hill I see a pair of legs hiding behind this information wall and it's my dear friend Shallyn (the taker of beautiful pictures) and we all start laughing and she tells me to pretend like she's not there.

 Patrick takes me to a spot where I find flowers with a note wrapped around them. Since we first started dating Patrick has been writing me notes. These notes range from being super silly and random to being amazingly thoughtful and sweet. I've kept every note that Patrick has ever written me. So I find the note and it's beautiful, just like everything else about this moment and we keep walking and I find two more flowers with notes wrapped around them. 

Once I've read the last note, Patrick decided that this is a great moment for him to make one of his lame jokes and he says "well that's everything, I guess we can leave now."  But since you know the ending, you know that wasn't everything. So then he reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a red box and gets down on one knee and asks me to marry him. 

The whole thing was so sweet and so US. I couldn't have asked for a better moment with a better man and I'm so unbelievably happy and also overwhelmed. I'm overwhelmed by all of the kinds words and messages that people have sent us this week. Overwhelmed by the excitement of all of our family and friends as we embark on the huge task of planning a Pennsylvania wedding from Colorado. More than anything I'm overwhelmed by God's tremendous grace towards us and the fact that he brought us together not through church or friends but through a dating app. 

God is faithful and I feel so blessed to be on this journey of faith with such an amazing man by my side. Patrick, I love you so much. Thank you for planning such a special day filled with laughter and tears and so much simplicity. You're not the man of my dreams cause never in a million years could I have dreamed of finding someone as selfless, loving and gentle as you. You're the man that has surpassed all of my expectations and I can't wait to be your wife. 

Xoxo,

Nico 

The Love You Choose.

Patrick and I recently went on an adventure that took us to the 'Windy city' good ole Chicago. Patrick's brother Wade is getting his PhD at Loyola and we went there for a few days to spend time with him and to explore a new city. 

Chicago is lovely. It's filled with big streets and even bigger buildings. Chicago tells beautiful stories with it's old apartments and creaky subways, stories of love and relationships past. It's coffee shops and book stores paint a picture of the ideas that were birthed there and of course there's something to be found in the deep dish pizza as well. Pizza that you think you'll be able to gobble up with ease but that is so deep that one piece fills you up. Similar to what happened with the pizza, I thought that I'd be able to see all of Chicago in just a few shorts day but instead of seeing it all I was swallowed up by small and vast beautiful portions of the city. I learned that Chicago, is a lovely city that is impossible to conquer in three days. 

Wade and his roommates live in an apartment that's nestled in a super cute neighborhood called Ashland. Their place, though old, has a simple modern design and is the kind of apartment that I would want to live in if I moved to a big city. One of my favorite parts about the trip was spending time with Wade's roommates, Liz and Alex. On our second night in town we all went to a place called Green Mill and I had a conversation with Liz that led to me writing this post. 

We were talking about dating and relationships and Liz turned to me and Patrick and asked "so when did you realize that you were each other's person? When did you know that you had found the one?"

I thought for a second before I answered. Thinking back to the day that I met Patrick and the romance that developed and was created after. I thought about all of the expectations I had for love and relationships and how far off base I was from reality. I thought about all of the movies I saw and the stories I heard about meeting your soulmate and knowing right away that they're the one. 

That's not how things happened for me and Patrick, we definitely did not fall in love instantly. It wasn't this whirlwind romance that swooped us up and smashed our faces together in a passionate kiss. It wasn't cupids arrow that shot us in the butt and gave us dreamy eyes and heart palpitations. Even though I'm sure those beginnings make for a great story. 

Our beginning was more subtle and housed more small flames then it did wild fires. I didn't meet Patrick and immediately see my future unfolding and I definitely didn't have flashes of being his wife and the mother of his children. When I saw Patrick for the first time in person, outside of Sugar Bakeshop in Denver, I was immediately attracted to him. He spoke to me and his deep voice gave me chills and when we hugged his embrace immediately made me feel comfortable. 

The more Patrick opened up on our first date the more compassion and character that I saw. He shared stories that portrayed his sincerity and his heart for God and it made me have butterflies and feel so excited. As our relationship evolved Patrick showed me a consistency and a reliability that I had never experienced before. The lovey dovey feelings in the beginning were great but what was better was when those feelings faded. When they faded we saw that our relationship wasn't just built on feelings but rather so much more. 

Patrick is my person and I'm his, not because of chance or feelings or cupid's arrow but because of small intentional decisions. There came a point in our relationship, where we moved on from the 'honeymoon phase' and we decided that a life together was what we wanted. We decided that we would always choose each other, that we'd always fight for each other and the love that has emerged from that decision has been a game changer. 

It's not a love that I always tangibly feel, in the form of chills or butterflies but it's a love that I'll always choose. Patrick loves me well all the time. When I'm rude to him, he loves me well. When I get on his nerves, he loves me well. When he's tired, he loves me well. When he doesn't even feel like being bothered with me, he still loves me well. That's the kind of love I'm willing to spend the rest of my life with. I knew that Patrick was my person not when I felt it but rather when I chose it and when I saw that, no matter what, he consistently chose me. 

I wish I could say that my answer to Liz was shorter than the above paragraphs but it wasn't. My eyes got misty as I thought back on all of the  moments during our relationship where Patrick confirmed himself to be a man of unmatched character and integrity. I had to pause a few times as I talked so that I wouldn't cry because the reality of the life that we're building together is more beautiful than anything Cupid or some romantic comedy could muster up. 

Eventually the conversation topic changed and the jazz music flooded over me. I glanced over at Patrick and for a moment it felt like no one else was in the room but him and I. I looked at his beautiful face and kind eyes and all of the butterflies from the beginning came rushing back. As the moment faded and the people in the room magically reappeared the butterflies and the chills disappeared and all that remained, was the most important thing, the love we chose. 

A love like mine.

" I will never hide, diminish or suppress my love for you." 

Love is such an interesting beast. It swoops you up, invites you on a wild ride and leaves you feeling upside down, inside out and soaked to the core in joy. Love can make you feel like your experience is one in a million. Like you're the only one, in the whole world, who has ever felt this way about anyone. 

I used to think that way. When I would look across a room and see Patrick and my heart would start to beat faster and my cheeks feel warm, I thought; "no one has ever loved anyone the way that I love him." 

Have you ever had a feeling like that come over you? You look at your significant other and you're flooded with love, a love that seems like it was created just for you. Love that has you convinced that no one, in the entire galaxy, has ever felt anything quite like what you're feeling. 

Love, everything that encompasses the word, is so special in the way that it makes us all feel like what we have is unique. Which, in a sense isn't wrong. We are all handcrafted individuals with distinct skill sets and personality traits and to love another requires us to adapt and modify in a way that only we can. All of that I understand and think is really beautiful. 

What's even more beautiful is that your love is not unique and neither is mine. Love is definable. Love is measurable. Your love isn't unheard of. It is special, because it's yours and it's mine but it's not singular.

The realization that people all around the world, are overcome with feelings very similar to mine gives me so much hope for the future. 

Love changes the world. Your love. My love. God's love. Love casts out all fear, is patient, is kind, is long suffering, doesn't envy or boast. Love trusts, cares more for others than self, is level headed and it never fails. Love never fails. 

I do not want to be the only person capable of that and I shudder at the thought that my capacity for love is the ceiling. I fall short in my love for Patrick, often. I rejoice in the truth that there are people whose love for their partner surpasses mine. That in their world they are a beacon for selflessness and kindness and patience and fearlessness. That my current ceiling is their floor and their ceiling the floor for someone else. 

Thank God for Jesus. A man whose love for us is so massive, all encompassing and full...a love that came to fruition in death.  A love that trumps all hate, breaks down walls, warms hearts and heals wounds. A love that has no ceiling and knows no end. 

I'm not sure if my heart is incapable of loving anything the way that Jesus loves us, you and me. My heart is brave yet forgetful, loving and easily distracted, passionate and at times distant. A love like mine and maybe this is true of a love like yours as well, is learning as it goes and is doing it's best to get it right the first time. 

So I'll  love with everything I have and quote cute lines about the strength of a love like mine and be encouraged, humbled and inspired by the loves that far surpass my own. 

"God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." - John 3:16

Generations Church; Year one.

I found Generations church on Facebook. It was less than a year after I had moved to Denver and I was looking for a church home. A place where I could find a community of strong believers, people that I didn't just want to see on the weekends but during the week as well. I wanted a church that had a sermon I could learn from, worship music I could groove too and young people that I could connect with. 

One day while I was at work, on my work Facebook account, an Ad for Generations Church popped up. It's important to note, that I never click on ads. EVER. I understand the importance of advertising and why it's so successful but I try my best not to get sucked in. Well, on this particular day I didn't even think twice and just clicked the ad. 

Skip ahead two weeks from the day that I clicked on the ad and It was the day of the Oscars (the day that Leo would win big) and I ended up meeting everyone for the first time. They had an 'Interest hangout' at a local coffee shop in Denver. There, Pastors Jody and Mandy talked about the heart of the church and why they moved to Denver to launch Generations. 

As they were wrapping up Jody talked about when Jesus called the disciples and how he didn't tell them to go home and pray and think about whether they wanted to follow him but rather just called them and they answered the call. It was in that moment, very clearly, that I felt the Lord leading me to join and to devote my time helping Generations Church to reach the city of Denver for Christ.

Fast forward a year and seven months and here I am. An active member of a group of believers. People who challenge my faith and ideals, are there for me during harsh and happy times, people who love my family and every friend that visits. The most inviting and warm group of people I've ever met. 

I'm so blessed to have this close knit group of people that I can laugh with, cry with, celebrate with and pray with. I'm grateful for the memories that we've made so far and looking forward to the impact that we'll make in this city and the ways that we'll grow in years to come. 

If you're in the Denver area and you're looking for a home church; a place where you can find hope and experience home than Generations may just be the place for you. My life has been enriched beyond belief and it was through joining this community that I learned how much you receive when you're willing to give it all for the kingdom. 

Thank you Mandy and Jody, Ginger and Gary and the entire team for making Generations so much more than just a Sunday church for me...thank you for making it feel like home. 

XOXO. 

My burning ring finger.

First comes love, then comes marriage....right? 

Or at least that's what I've been told. You meet someone that you like, then eventually they become someone you love, then it evolves into someone you can't live without and BOOM you get married. 

That's how the story has been told and retold to me. Patrick and I have been together for just shy of ten months and I've lost track of how many times I've been asked "Soooo, when are you two getting engaged?"

That sentence and others like it, after awhile, have become a fire that burned its way into my heart and set up a shop of resentment and jealousy inside of me. 

Patience, lately, has not been my strongest virtue. I took hold of the lie that the only next step for us was for us to get engaged and anything that didn't quench that desire wasn't good enough. Irritable is a word that could have floated over my head non-stop. I was irritated, irritated by any conversation and any date that didn't end with me getting one step closer to having a husband. 

The truth though, is that marriage is not the next step for Patrick and me. 

The next step is for us to grow deeper in our trust and our communication. The next step is for us to celebrate our birthday's and enjoy our first Fall season together. The next step is for us to spend the Holiday's with each other's family and learn more about family dynamic and how to exist as a unit bound to so many other units. 

The next step is for me to not be so connected to the way that I think a relationship is supposed to play out and open my eyes to the beauty of how my relationship is evolving.

So yes, we are going to get married. Yes, we are going to have a beautiful wedding and start a life together and have a ton of kids. Yes, it's something that we talk about but no, it's definitely not happening today and it won't happen tomorrow. 

Marriage is in our future and is one of the goals of our relationship but it's not our only goal.

Let patience be the virtue that we all cling to in this season. Today, the burning in my ring finger has begun to cease as I realize that the title of 'Girlfriend' is not a scarlet letter and after only ten months, in my first ever relationship, is exactly where I want to be. So please let me enjoy time with my boyfriend in this beautiful season that we're in and when we get engaged, believe me, you'll be the first to know. 

"When we are so eager for the next season, we believe the lie that the next season will bring some added level of completeness or perfection. But with God, we're never incomplete and never lacking in His holy perfection. We are only stretched to grow. And we can flourish in the waiting." - Jordan Dooley. 

Xoxo. 

The Connect in CareerConnect.

When I left Up with People, about a year and a half ago, it was because I needed a change. I was a little over 4 years deep in the organization and feeling rather drained. As much as I loved what Up with People was doing and the impact it made, I felt like my time as a contributing member of the body was coming to a close. 

I didn't look forward to going to work, the day to day tasks were driving me crazy and even on the brightest of days I had to fake a smile and cheerful disposition. It's fair to say that I was beyond checked out. Then came the opportunity to work for Goodwill, an organization that reached out to meet the needs of the Denver community.

A non-profit that gives people with disabilities a job and more than just a medical diagnosis but also a purpose. a non-profit that meets the needs of under served youth and provides them with opportunities that are often easily accessible to their more privileged peers. A non-profit that provides programming for adults that gives them tools for success whether they have a high school diploma or not. 

I genuinely believe that non-profits like Goodwill change the world. One person at a time Goodwill breaks the cycle of poverty and puts worth and dignity in a place where, for years, only shame lived. Of all of the transitions I've made in my life, this one is by far the most difficult. 

On August 14th I'll be embarking on a new journey and for the first time venturing outside of the non-profit world to work for a program called CareerConnect. CareerConnect is one of the many functions of the Denver Public School system and works to offer students engaging and project based courses and experiential learning in relevant career pathways. 

CareerConnect provides students with job shadow opportunities, mentors, internships and more. CareerConnect helps students to create a tangible and realistic path to a career by giving them early exposure and reliable professional contacts. 

I am so excited about this new opportunity! The key goals of the Denver Public School system align so well with my personal mission statement and the work that CareerConnect does gives students a tangible and clear path to success. 

I, with every part of me, believe that this career move will further my community reach, widen my educational scope and help me to accomplish many of my professional goals.

I'm not tired of Goodwill, I wasn't burned out or ever upset about coming to work each day; I love what I do and most importantly the people I do it with and the students I do it for. This career move will not take me from unhappy to happy but rather it's simply the next step in my professional journey. A step up and in the right direction, that's what this is. 

So on Tuesday, the 8th, with sadness and so much love I'll say goodbye to Goodwill. I'll grab my box of pictures and inspirational quotes from my desk, I'll say a few jokes and give a tons of hugs and be on my way. With the closing of one chapter another one opens and I can't wait to update you on my students, my colleagues and life in general in this new and exciting position. 

*Goodwill's all over the country provide resources to adults, youth and people with disabilities. When you shop at Goodwill, the money that you spend goes back into the community to support those that are often lacking and going without basic education and professional resources. Please, in the near future, visit your local Goodwill and do your part in supporting their beautiful mission. Thank you!* 

Driving while black.

When I was a teenager, just learning how to drive, I got pulled over by a cop. My mom was in the passenger seat and I had just paused at a stop sign instead of coming to a complete stop. Within seconds lights flashed in my rear view mirror and that well known sound swirled in my ear. 

As I pulled to the side of the road I immediately started to cry. The cop, a white man,  walked up to my window and when he saw my tears began to comfort and encourage me. He told me that I had run a stop sign but that I wasn't in trouble and didn't need to cry. He said that he had a teenager daughter at home and that he when he saw me, he thought of her and that he wants both of us to be safe drivers. 

He didn't give me a ticket or a warning but he did give me a hug through the window. That was the only time I had ever been pulled over, until recently. 

I was driving home from having brunch with Patrick's mom, about a month or so ago, when a cop pulled up behind me and turned on his lights. 

I pulled over to the side of the road, rolled down my window and put my hands in plain sight on the steering wheel. The officer introduced himself and attempted to make small talk. He told me that I was going over the speed limit but if everything came back clear he would let me go on my way. 

With one hand on my window and the other on his gun, he asked for my license and registration. I told him that my license was in my purse, under my seat and asked for permission to reach down and grab it, he said "Yes, of course." I then told him that my registration was in my glove box and asked for permission to reach across the seat to get it, he again said "Of course." 

I've only been pulled over twice in my life and both times the officer was extremely kind but despite his kindness the second time I struggled to shake my fear. I remember being hyper sensitive of my hand placement before the officer even got to my window and making a conscious decision to not cry, to not be afraid and to not be a statistic. 

You see, I knew that when he ran my information that nothing would come back and that I had nothing to hide. Even with all of this in mind, the memories and images from months and months of videos and articles of people who look like me, being shot and killed by people like him, had me a little shook. 

Growing up my friends and my brothers and I made a lot of jokes, in very poor taste, about slavery and racism. We made jokes about driving while black and black people being picked on by cops. We could joke about these things because it was something that was never on the back of our heels or knocking on our front door. 

We don't make those kinds of jokes anymore. 

African Americans make up only 13 percent of the US population, yet account for 24 percent of those that are fatally shot by police. That means that African Americans are 2.5 times more likely to get killed in an interaction with a police officer than White Americans. According to the Washington Post, in 2015 of all of the unarmed people shot and killed by police, African American men made up 40% of that number even though they only make up 6% of our countries population. 

After I got pulled over by the cop I told a few of my friends the story and as some laughed at my response and how I reacted I was reminded that I was the only person of color in the group. The more we talked, the more they understood my reaction and emotions but I couldn't undo the realization of how heavily our perspectives have shaped our views on the world. 

When I see and read about people of color being shot and killed for petty crimes or committing no crime at all, I see myself. I don’t just see a black man or a little black boy, I see my brothers and my nephews…I see family.

When the cop finished checking my information and told me that I was all clear to go, I just sat there for a few moments. I imagined what it’s like to have a seemingly simple stop escalate for one reason or another, to the point where someone leaves in a body bag. I thought of Philando Castile and Sandra Bland, I thought about Tamir Rice and Eric Garner and how I wished they could have gone home.

I thought about all of the men and women who serve as police officers in this country and how everything that they do is now under a microscope. I thought about fear and prejudice and preconceived notions and how all of those things culminate.

I just sat there, with sweaty palms and a racing heart, thinking.

 Despite all of the things I’ve read and seen I still believe in people. I still believe in police officers and I believe that African Americans are more than just something to be oppressed in our society. May my experience of kindness and thoughtfulness from an officer become the norm. May our men stop being feared and officers stop being hated.

May driving while black, stop being a death sentence and go back to simply being a description of my daily commute.

A morning with Mariah.

"Don't just grow where you're planted, bloom." 

I had coffee with my friend Mariah a few months ago and I was blown away by her genuine interest in people. Mariah is the type of person that just loves with an open heart. Every single time I'm with her she makes me feel safe. 

Do you have a friend like that? I really hope you do. Someone who you sit down with and look into their eyes and you feel not only accepted but loved for being exactly who you are. That's what being around Mariah is like. 

Mariah is the type of human that speaks life into the people and the situations she encounters. She walks with a humility that is inspiring and a grace that impacts, she's one of a kind. She's the type of person that when she's around it's easy to take her for granted because she's consistent and faithful and so easy going but when she's gone, the absence is immediately felt. 

When I got Give the grave only bones, tattooed on my arm the idea was that I wanted to live a life that was so rich and full that I'd die with nothing left. I wanted to live a life that was big and bold and seeping with authenticity and joy, a life void of regrets.

Time with Mariah helped me to see how selfish that aspiration is. 

I think that when Mariah dies she'll have lived her life to the fullest not because she aimed to live big and grasp every opportunity for herself but rather because she lived to serve. 

I think that maybe we've been doing this 'live big,' and 'have no regrets'  thing all wrong. I think when we focus on OUR gain, on how OUR lives can be as rich as possible, how only WE can leave a legacy that it narrows our scope.

If I could take a page from Mariah's book I think  it would start with the importance of focusing outward instead of inward. How it's imperative to desire to do more for others than to have others do for you and the blessing that comes from giving love instead of just seeking it. 

So now, moving forward, Give the grave only bones will mean to live life with an open hand. A life that is always aiming to meet the needs of others, a life that serves, a life that loves big and does so without holding back. 

I miss Mariah a lot. I miss her because her ability to give you her undivided attention and make you feel like the most important person in the room is rare but maybe it doesn't have to be. It shouldn't be. So here's to coffee dates with people that call you to a higher standard simply by loving you well and living their truth. Here's to morning's with Mariah. 

Playing hard to get.

On our second date Patrick took me to the Denver botanic gardens. It was late November and the garden was filled with Christmas lights, bright colors and an endless amount of decorations. One of the moments that stood out to me the most from the date was when we talked about the upcoming Broncos vs Patriots game. 

I asked him, without much thought, if he wanted to watch the game together. He said yes and that he had planned to ask me the same thing. As we walked deeper into the garden I remember thinking how cool it was that he thought in two weeks we'd still be hanging out. I was, for the first time in a very long time, impressed by a guy.

Fast forward seven months; about two weeks ago Patrick and I got some really awesome Rockies tickets.  When I saw the date on the tickets, for over 30 days away, I was taken back to our second date and the moment where I first got a glimpse of his hope for our future.

Growing up I thought that men were supposed to be hard to get, harder to understand and even harder to keep.  As I got older and I went to college and eventually traveled, this idea became firmly cemented in my brain.  In order to keep someones attention I needed to laugh a little harder than the snobby girls, give a little more than the prude girls and be sure not to text back too quickly like the eager girls. 

I remember hanging out with men that showed no interest in my passions. Guys that could laugh with me and would jump at the chance to kiss me or cop a feel but couldn't make the time to sit next to me at church. It was embedded in my brain, from hookup culture and an Over-Sexualized society, that men want to touch you but they rarely want to love you. 

Until I met Patrick. 

Patrick, from our very first date, began to unpack all of the ideas and conceptions I had about relationships. Where other men were forward and impatient, he was attentive and genuinely invested in the process of getting to know me. He wasn't mysterious or guarded about his feelings but rather was open about what he wanted and giving of his feelings towards me.

It was unnerving at first. I was so used to the games, the chasing and the wondering that I couldn't quite wrap my mind around the consistent and the reliable. I saw it everyday reflected in the character and integrity of my father but never had I experienced a date treating me the way Patrick did. 

I don't think that dating culture and the way that we currently model it is safe. It's a dirty, nasty cycle of people thinking that they can't get invested or fall in love, that they have to play hard to get; that they can give away their bodies but God forbid they give away their hearts. 

When Harry met Sally is a movie that I've grown quite fond of in the last few years. There's a part in the movie where Harry and Sally both call their friends, a couple laying in bed together, to talk about a romantic encounter that they just had with each other. After they hang up the phone the couple looks at each other and the wife, played by Carrie Fisher leans on her husbands shoulder and says "Tell me that I'll never have to be out there again." 

Lines like that are humorous but for me also very telling of what it's like to be single in a society that sends you all the wrong signals. What I'm getting at with this whole thing is that regardless of where you are in the dating universe, you deserve more than what's being sold to you. 

You deserve someone who is reliable and consistent, level headed and secure. Someone who is guarding of your heart and respects all that you have to bring to a relationship and this world and not just what's under your clothes.  Someone who even before you're in a relationship makes your dating experience easy, exciting and refreshing. Someone who adds to your self-esteem, your joy and your peace of mind.

 A person that respects and treats you so well that if you were to break up your life would still be better and more enriched from meeting them. 

Playing hard to get, being elusive and mysterious, not returning phone calls or being open about how you feel; those things do not add joy to someones life. They bring confusion and insecurity and if someone is cultivating that experience in your life, I'm sorry to say, they're not the right person for you. 

Wait for the right person, wait for someone who cares and isn't afraid or too macho to say so. 

After we took this picture I remember showing it to Patrick and us both laughing about how cute it was. As we walked deeper into the garden admiring the lights and all of the happy families, I felt a sense of security and freedom that I had never felt on a date before. The nerves and the games were gone and all that was left were too openhearted and sincere people eager to see what would become of date two. 

Love Does.

Patrick said 'I love you' to me for the first time on January 6th (yes, I remember the date) It was exactly a month and one day after we became official and it caught me only slightly by surprise. We were sitting on the big comfy couch in my house and we had just had our first big disagreement and he turned to me, looked me in the eyes and said it. 

It took me a moment or two to process it all but after I got myself together I hugged him and told him that I loved him too. In that moment I felt like I loved him and like he loved me as well but looking back I can say without question, at that point in our relationship the love was purely audible, it wasn't doing. 

I'm currently 22 chapters deep in the book Love Does and I've been reading it for over a month now. It's a small book, with short chapters and I'm a fast reader but there's so much, so much to take in, that I have to digest it slowly. 

Bob Goff has a beautiful writing style one which I've seen bloggers and authors alike try to embody. He uses a story to draw you into an idea and drives it home by attaching it to a relatable and clear concept. In my opinion the book is both genius and simple and has the potential to really impact the way people view love and most importantly Christ. 

One of the reasons why this books speaks to me so clearly, is because I am very skeptical of simply audible love. A love that you can hear but not yet see, one that is relayed through words on a page or lyrics in a song but has yet to bear fruit in your life. Which is why when Patrick first told me he loved me and I said it back, I believed him and I was sincere when I responded but I had yet to see how that love was working in our lives.

I think that in order for love to be real, it has to be a living, breathing, declaration that makes a difference in the lives that it touches. Love Does is filled with stories of action. Stories about a love that shakes tradition and social norms. A love that reaches out to the lost and hurting and aims to do more than just rest in it's comfort. A love that is reckless in it's abandon but yet grounded in the way that it's consistent, it's tried and it's true. 

A love that does. 

Seated on that comfy couch, on a cold day in January, Patrick and I thought that all of those feelings and emotions were true love at it's best. Little did we know the months to follow and the actions that filled them would take our declarations and feelings and solidify them. Our love for each other went from being just words dancing in ears to an active ingredient, visible in every part of our relationship. 

"That's because love is never stationary. In the end, love doesn't just keep thinking about it or keep planning for it. Simply put; love does." 

Who am I?

When I sat down this week to start writing about graduates and graduation a lot of ideas popped into my head. I thought about writing something about the importance of always being a student, seeking to learn and grow from every person that you meet. Though an interesting idea, it didn't quite feel right.

Then I considered writing an open letter entitled "dear graduates," with advice and tips and tricks for navigating the world outside of the four walls of school. This idea felt better than the first but the words just didn't flow, a clear indication that I was on the wrong track. 

All of that idea tossing and brain storming led me to what I'm writing about today, identity.

I don't know about you but all of my life I've been heavily defined by and tied to titles related to my education. For all of my K-12 years I was the home schooled kid and that was a badge that, once I stopped being ashamed of, I wore proudly. My post secondary track led me to a small all women's liberal art's school and for those four years I was the college student attending a strong all women's college. It was a time in my life that I was so proud of and shared with others quickly.

After finishing college I joined the global education program Up with People and for years it was the first thing I would share about myself when meeting new people. The fact that I got to travel the world performing, volunteering and living with host families made me feel like my life was such an adventure.

Then before I knew it, I wasn't connected to any of those things anymore. I was living in Denver, working in an office and staying in my host family's basement. 

My life it seemed, had gone from unique to unique to all of a sudden strikingly average. My identity was so tied to my circumstances and how they made me stand out from a crowd that when my circumstances became seemingly normal I felt like I as well had gone from someone that was special to someone who just blended in with the crowd. 

My first few weeks of living in Denver were harder than I imagined they would be. As I  began to settle into a routine; wake up, work, workout, sleep, repeat, I also began to settle into a cycle of self doubt and lack of identity.

"Who am I if I'm not the world traveler?" I thought to myself one day as I boarded a plane from Denver to Pennsylvania to visit my family.  Whenever I would come home to visit, my dad would always proudly introduce me to his friends as "his daughter, the world traveler,"  I was terrified at the thought of how boring his new introduction may potentially be. 

That weekend when we went to church, I walked into the building with my parents and immediately from across the room one of their friends, with a huge smile on their face, came bounding in our direction. They greeted my parents warmly and then turned my way and said "Is this the daughter that you've been telling us about?" and then wrapped me in a warm bear hug. As I stood there, hugging a stranger I was taken aback by the reality of my identity. 

To my parents, regardless of where I was studying, living or traveling I was always first and foremost their daughter. 

It's so easy for us to tie our identity and our worth to the things that we do and the circles that we run in. Do you find yourself doing that? Introducing yourself and first mentioning where you work as if our jobs are able to give people an all encompassing snapshot of who we really are. As if the fact that you're loving, kind and compassionate are secondary to the fact that you work for a non-profit or a large corporation.

Ted Dekker once said "Life consists of cycles of remembering and forgetting and I, like you, still forget far too often...and in that forgetting, my view is clouded once more until I remember who I am and surrender who I am not." 

That day, at church with my parents, I was reminded of who I am. I began to tie my identity to the factors that will always remain and not to the circumstances that are constantly ebbing and flowing through my life. I began to stop looking to my job, my friends and my situation to tell me who I am and started to embrace the truth of who God says that I am.

I willingly began to surrender who I am not and with a peaceful heart rested in the truth of who I am. 

"At least I got a man."

When I was a teenager I remember being at church and there was a girl there teasing me. I can't even remember exactly what she was making fun of me for but I remember at the end she said "You might be smarter than me but at least I got a man."

As soon as she said that everyone around us started laughing and saying things like "that's true," and other stupid comments. I walked away from her feeling like I had just been hardcore shamed, like my intelligence was something but nothing compared to the fact that this girl had a 'man.'

The other day I had a deja vu moment with one of my friends, a moment that took me back to being a shamed kid at church. This person is someone that I consider to be extremely intelligent, successful and on their way to even bigger success.We were texting about our lives and things that we're doing currently and at one point she said "Well you're still doing better than me because you have a man now."

When I read her message I was dumbfounded. I sat there just reading the message over and over again and I couldn't help but to laugh. Why is it that being in a relationship determines how well someone is doing?  I sat there thinking about her, someone that I look up to so much and felt so sad that she thinks that I'm in anyway doing better than she is simply because I'm dating someone and she's not.

For the last five months or so I've talked a lot about my relationship, it's really hard not to. Patrick is my first boyfriend and we spend a lot of time together. Patrick is an amazing human and friend and I just want to tell everyone about him. Being with him has added even more joy to my life than was there before, he's an answer to prayer.

Let me say this though if for some reason, God forbid, Patrick and I broke up my worth on this earth wouldn't change.

As an educator that works a lot with teenage girls, this is an issue that is very close to my heart. I see girls everyday, ones that are running from relationship to relationship trying to find worth and meaning in this world. They're reaching for dirty hands and unattainable hearts hoping to find belonging and acceptance through their relationship status and I know how it feels.

Even though I grew up with a present and loving father and amazing brothers, when I went to college and got a taste of the rat race of false love I was addicted to the attention. It's only by God's grace that I didn't end up sleeping with some no good man and really changing the trajectory of my life.

I'm saying all of this to say, that I am so proud to be a woman. I am proud to be made in the image of Christ and to be a portrait of his creativity and goodness and my identity and my worth is firmly rooted in that. I'm proud of the places I've been, the stories I've walked through and also the many lives that I've been able to impact through work.

If Patrick and I get married then I think part of my identity will change. Being married will require so much more commitment from us than just being in a relationship and with a name change, moving in together and the merging of families we'll become one. Even when that happens, the greatest and most enriching part of my identity will still be in who I am in Christ.

I've written about this before but society often tells us that as women we haven't fully made it until someone wants us, marries us and makes us their own. Today I want to tell you that you're wanted, you're cherished and you're loved. You're loved by someone that will never leave you, never fail you and never forsake you until the end of age. God is that someone. If you're single and someone throws it in your face than dear just let me remind you that you always have God and he's not an "at least" he's more than enough.

"If you are not attaching your identity to the unshakable love of your savior, you will ask the things in your life to be your savior and it will never happen." - Paul David Tripp

A relationship in orbit.

Dating is weird. You meet a person and you decide that you not only think that they're attractive but you also think that they're someone that you want to spend an ungodly amount of time with. So you change your status on Facebook and put a heart emoji next to their name in your phone and just like that you're a couple.

 I've written before about how watching my parents taught me a lot about love and marriage but I didn't get the privilege of watching them when they were just a couple, just boyfriend and girlfriend. I think if I did I would have learned some of the ins and outs of this relationship business.

Dating doesn't solve any of the issues or insecurities that we as single people tend to have. Rather, I think it grabs batteries from a dusty drawer in the kitchen, loads the closest flashlight and illuminates everything that you've tried to hide for years. 

The more time you spend with someone the more they get to know you. That's a sentence that we're all familiar with but we should also add that they don't just get to know the rose colored parts of you but also the weird, scarred and quirky parts of you. 

After a few months of dating, Patrick knows quite a bit about me. He knows that I call every dog that I see fluffy. He knows that I have moments where I'm irrational and literally annoyed for no reason. He knows that I'm a sucker for the simple things and he also knows that it's the littlest things at times that really grind my gears. 

At this point in our relationship he's really starting to know me and not just the parts of me that are easily shared but also the parts that are not. The parts that I'm not always so proud of, the parts that I'm working on. 

Relationships are a constant journey of trusting, trusting and trusting some more. Trusting that the love you give will be returned. Trusting that this flaw or that flaw won't be the one that's nonnegotiable. Trusting that if they're choosing to love you today than they'll choose to do it tomorrow as well. 

I thought that relationships were easy, that they were fun ALL the time and that once you're in love it fixes every thing. I was way off base. Healthy relationships aren't always easy but they're worth it. I have so much fun with Patrick but not every conversation that we have is fun. Some conversations are hard and are uncomfortable but they are the foundation for what we're trying to build, a strong and lasting relationship.

At the core of it all I've learned that by keeping Christ at the center of our relationship we've revolved it around something that will never fail. When we first met each other, we sat at a coffee shop and talked for hours and the thing that we talked about the most was Christ. That was the catalyst that prompted a second date that eventually led to a relationship.

As we get to know each other more and begin to see the quirks and hiccups of each others lives the thing that we're orbiting around still hasn't changed. Which I think is what makes every hard conversation easier, every laugh more joyful and every small kind gesture so big.

So I guess I didn't need to be a fly on the wall while my parents were dating. I didn't need a cheat sheet that showed me how to fight fair or how to choose to love. All I needed was to put Christ at the center, meet someone else that did the same and let the rest of the story be written by him.

Xoxo.

Wendy and Rey: A love story.

"In the flush of love's light, we dare be brave and suddenly we see that love costs all we are, and will ever be. Yet is it only love which sets us free."

Love is scary. It's portrayed as this big boisterous monster that swoops into your heart unexpectedly and makes you fall head over heels for someone. It's described as the naked child with the bag full of arrows shooting the first person his eyes land on and his stupid arrows can reach.

We grow up with these images of love in magazines, television shows and movies and it all seems so easy and so unbelievable. They make love look so doable but also so unsustainable, it happens all at once and then the movie is over but you don't see what happens next.

What happens when the little quirks that they loved become the small things that they're starting to hate? What happens when their core values don't match? What happens when they get into another argument about the same old thing and their tempers get the best of them? What happens when the magic wears off?

I don't see a lot of movies that portray those things. Films that get to the heart of life and not only show you the bells and whistles but also the thorns and spurs. I didn't learn the ABC's of lasting love from movies but I did learn it from my parents.

It wasn't until recently that I became aware of all of the lessons that I've learned about love from watching my parents choose to love each other everyday of my entire life. My parents have been married for 36 years and I've been lucky enough to be an eye witness for 27 of those lovely years.

If I use my parents as my main example I can tell you that love is so much more than just an hour long movie or a lifetime special. Love is choosing to quit your job and live off of one income to home school seven children and make sure that they have the best education possible. Love is having patience and being intentional about being kind and using thoughtful language even after working long exhausting days.

Love is a choice. Love is choosing, after 36 years, to still go on adventures and to still do the things that made you fall in love in the first place. The real thing, the 'we've been married for 50 years' kind of love, does not just happen with the flick of cupid's wrist. Real love takes work, it takes effort, it requires that you die to yourself and put the well being and needs of that other person before your own and that they do the same for you.

The stories that I see in movies and on TV pale in comparison to the romance, commitment and love that I've seen my whole life in my parent's relationship.

I used to think that I didn't know what love was. I thought that I would be scared when I found it and that being in love meant that I had to lose pieces of myself. None of that is true. I know what love is. I know love because I've been surrounded by it my entire life. I know love because God goes out of his way to saturate me in his daily. I know love.

So whenever I get to that point in my relationship where all of my daily decisions lead me to falling in love, I'll know what to do. I won't run, like I always thought I would but rather I'll continue to make choices that nourish and build our love. I'll embody the patience of my father and the thoughtfulness of my mother and create a life that teaches my children what a real and authentic love story looks like.

Here's to 'Happily ever after.'

"When the time comes for me to fall in love, I hope I love the way I learned to ride a bike. Scared but reckless."

I've idolized love and marriage my entire life. I've thought of it as the ultimate goal, the place where every wrong would be turned right, every tear would have meaning, every sad day would be washed away. I would dream about the dress, walking down the aisle with my dad, my mom crying in the front row..for as long as I can remember all I've ever wanted was to get married.

As I sit here writing this I think it's so insane that so many little girls are raised with marriage in the forefront of their minds. Not necessarily because their parents beat them over the head with the idea but rather because culture and media does. I was raised watching Disney movies and other films that didn't have swearing or sex scenes but almost all ended with a girl meeting some wonderful guy and falling in love and most importantly living happily ever after.

Since I was little I've associated marriage with living happily ever after and who doesn't want living happy to be their goal?

Man, was I way off.

This year I had the honor and the privilege of attending four weddings. It was so cool to see some of my closest friends vow forever to each other in front of their family, their friends and in front of God. I cried, I wore bridesmaid dresses, I danced until my feet were killing me but not once did I think "I wish that was me."

My views on marriage and love have changed so much this year. It has gone from being something that I was striving for and arranging my life in order to get to, to instead being something that's now on the back burner.

Falling in love and getting married will never complete me. It won't. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Once I learned that undeniable truth, I was able to dive head first into the things that truly bring me peace, completion and so much happiness.

This weekend while I was watching my college roommate get married I was so happy for her. I was genuinely filled to the brim with happiness because I knew that there wasn't even a hint of jealousy in me. It wasn't there because I'm no longer living in this world as half of a person searching for the other parts of me.

I talked to my best friend, who just got married in March, about this topic and she gave me an interesting perspective. She affirmed my feelings that the idea of being incomplete is a turn off but then said that instead of that person completing you think of it as them complimenting you, which I loved.

She also reminded me that God works through the people in our lives and believes that he uses our friends and spouses to help us where we're weak and to build us up where we may be torn down. Just like he used her and this conversation to help me see how marriage is not completion but it's definitely a partnership and an opportunity for two people to grow not only as individuals but together.

The Lord has been working in my heart so much this year and has been pouring his love over me in such a mighty way that it reminds me of how it's impossible for anyone on this earth to love me more than him. I think that the person that I am now could actually be in a healthy and life giving relationship because I'm able to love others from a place of completion compared to scarcity.

So here's to allowing our forever person to compliment us instead of asking them to take on the daunting and assigned to God task of completing us. Here's to happily ever after.

Until next time. Xoxo.

We deserve more.

In May I wrote a blog that I never posted. I wrote about a guy that I met and how meeting him made me feel. Yesterday I read it and I decided that since this year I wanted to be more vulnerable maybe it would be a good idea for me to post it.

I read through my words and I was taken back to the day I met him. All the feelings came rushing back, the laughter, the emotions, the moments that I never wanted to end. The blog was filled with lovely words that I 100% meant at the time, words that expressed how highly I thought of him and how alive I felt being in his presence.

Yeah, I read that yesterday and I was feeling like it would be a great idea to post it and to let people see into that experience but then I changed my mind and here's why.

I can count on one hand the encounters I've had with what I would have called at one time "very special" people. Encounters that made me feel like the prettiest, smartest, most interesting and most loved girl in the room. Moments that I romanticized and let play over in my head as things that I would hope would one day turn into a relationship or my 'day one' with my forever person and it never happened.

All of those moments ended, just as soon as they began. They ended because those men, those guys, as dynamic as they were, were not that into me. I could take those moments whether they ended with an embrace, a kiss, or an exchange of numbers and say that it was a life changing moment but if they never called, never tried to make those moments last, were those feelings even mutual?

I was thinking about those people and those moments yesterday and I realized that I was so lost in the potential of what those encounters COULD have been that I refused to come to terms with the reality of what they actually were. They weren't anything. They were moments in time that left me feeling a certain way but they involved no follow through, no commitment, no sense of security...they were nothing.

Now, don't get me wrong I think that I've learned a lot from those days/moments/encounters and they have affected who I am as a person. I think that all of the confusion, the tears, the nights awake have merged together and become a piece of the puzzle of who I am. With that being said, to learn is to change and where the change has manifested in my life is in the truth that if someone isn't investing in you, taking time to know you, working for your heart...they're not your forever person.

A really wise person once said "We accept the love we think we deserve," and I think that's so true. Even if it makes you feel alive and sets a fire in your heart, why settle for a flame that's only going to last for a night when you can invest in an ember that will roar and blaze for life. I'm sure it sounds like I'm discrediting these people that I've met and the moments that we've shared but really what I'm doing is calling a spade a spade.

The love that I deserve is a love that isn't left to chance. A love that is considered an investment by both parties, a love that is pursued, a love that we're both committed to, a love that doesn't get up and just walk away.  A love that stays.

Wherever you are in life, whether you're knee deep in a relationship that isn't healthy for you or just getting your fingers wet with something new, I hope that you know what you deserve. I hope that you look in the mirror every morning and you see your worth and you see the truth of how beautiful you are. If you don't see that, I hope that you take a break from dating and relationships to discover your worth and to write it on every square inch of your heart.

We, my dear friend, accept the love we think we deserve and it's time that we start thinking and believing that we deserve more.

Until next time. XO.