Marriage, Traditions, and Changing Last Names.

Two and a half years ago, I got married. My husband’s last name is Casey and my last name is Magloire. At the start of our engagement we discussed both changing our last names and becoming the Magloire Casey’s. As time went on and our interest waned we realized that it actually wasn’t that important to us. Sharing a last name didn’t make us more married than we already were, it didn’t make us a family, we were already a family. 

I was in college when I first encountered a woman that didn’t change her last name after marriage. She was my professor and when I became aware of her decision I remember thinking that it was really cool but “not for me.” At the time I liked my last name but I didn’t love it. I was looking forward to the day when I would get married and I could change my name to, hopefully, something shorter and easier to say. 

As I got older and began to learn more about my heritage and became more comfortable correcting people when they mispronounced my name; I started to fall in love with being a Magloire. Then when I met Patrick and marriage became a serious topic of discussion the idea of changing my name was no longer attractive to me. I began to wonder “where did this tradition even come from?” 

So I started to ask questions. I started to challenge the idea that a cisgender woman in a heterosexual relationship (I can only speak to my identities and the norms attached to them)  needed to change her name when she got married. That it was an essential part of the institution of marriage and that without it, the sanctity of the union would be compromised. I saw that the tradition was deeply embedded in our culture. To the point where multiple people I talked to asked me “are you and Patrick even legally married?” since I didn’t change my name. 

ABC7 NY wrote an article about this in 2019 and reported on a poll that was conducted by an outside organization. In that poll 70% of respondents said they believe that women should change their last names when they get married. 50% of respondents said that they believe that it should be mandated by law for women to change their names after marriage. When asked to explain why, a common response was that “women should prioritize their families and children above themselves.” 

At this point I’ve lost count of the amount of times someone has asked me when I’m changing my last name or why I haven’t changed my last name. I’ve lost count of the times someone has assumed that I'm newlywed and asked me “how is the name change process going?” Or the amount of times someone has asked me “what does Patrick think about you not wanting to change your last name?” 

I can count on one hand the amount of times someone has celebrated that decision or asked me to share more about my reasoning and why it’s important to me. 

Through this experience I’ve learned that often traditions are pushed onto us. They’re passed down through history, from one generation to the next seamlessly without many people interrupting the inheritance and asking questions. Traditions that, most people that I’ve talked to, can’t even identify or explain the origin correctly. Traditions that in some ways perpetuate sexist and misogynistic ideologies. 

This is not to shame women that have changed their names. Rather it’s me dissecting a tradition and thinking critically about this societal norm that I’m often confronted with. One that has people challenging the validity of my marriage and asking intrusive questions. 

So where did the tradition of women changing their last names after marriage come from? Well women used to be considered the property of their father but when they got married there was a transfer of power. At birth, women received their father’s name and after marriage their husband’s and with the name change came the exchange of property. Women couldn’t do things like enter into contracts, make property purchases or engage in business without their father or their husband’s permission. In Tennessee, until the 1970’s, women couldn’t register to vote unless they took on their husband’s name. 

Thankfully people protested and laws were instituted to ensure that women had rights and that they could engage in adult activities without their husband or father signing off. The ideology has evolved and the institutions have too but the tradition has persisted. Which I guess is fine, if that’s your thing. What I think is not fine and what bothers me is how many women I meet that say “the thought never even crossed my mind to not change my name, I wish I would have considered it.” 

I really could go on and on about this. It’s something that I’m passionate about. I find it fascinating how many of us have negative associations with women not changing their names. How many of us thought that a name change was a requirement of marriage. The number of us that never considered the alternative option. It’s fascinating the amount of people who think that men that are married to women who didn’t take their last names are weak. The amount of people who believe women like me are crazy feminists who aren’t committed to their marriage or their family. 

The truth is that I don’t like doing things that don’t make sense to me and I just really like my last name. It’s French and I got it from my father, who is Haitian. Haitian history is rich and beautiful and filled with stories of Black liberation and Black excellence. I like being a Magloire, it’s a name that I want attached to my being for the rest of my days. I want to write it on forms and sign it at the end of emails and messages forever. Nicole Rolande Magloire, it’s a great name, I think I’ll keep it. 

On the 7th day, He rested.

“By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all His work. Then God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done.” - Genesis 2:2-3 NIV

Hi friends. What a joy it is to be back in this space with you. I haven’t posted a blog since June and in some ways it feels like it’s been the longest four months or so, ever and in other ways it feels like just yesterday that I was writing and posting every week.

A lot has happened since June 6th, things that I plan to write about in detail. Things like getting married and having parties in Denver and in Pennsylvania. Things like moving in with Patrick and honestly having a pretty tumultuous first six weeks of being married. Things like having to see a counselor for anxiety and finding a lump in my breast, getting the IUD and entering my last year of my 20’s. Things like trying to finish out the year reading a book a week, adding a whole new group of people to my family and getting an Instant Pot.

I have a lot to catch you up on and I will in the next few weeks but today I want to talk to you about rest.

Recently I was reminded of the fact that humans were not made for constant motion. We weren’t created to just go, go, go. For the last few months, I feel like I haven’t stopped moving for more than just a second. We’ve been planning and planning and once one thing was done it felt like we immediately had to start planning something else and it was exhausting.

I felt like I didn’t have the energy to do anything. Once our final wedding celebration was over (we technically had three, more about that later) I just wanted to go home and crawl in to bed and stay there for a month. I’m not exaggerating when I say that we would make plans to go somewhere or do something and I would feel physically ill at the thought of leaving the house.

My belly would get tight, my heart would race and I’d just feel so sad over the thought of having to engage with anyone in my free time. It finally culminated with me feeling like we needed to cancel and bow out of some reoccurring weekly commitments and feeling like I need to take a break from volunteering and serving at church.

I had a meeting with our Pastor Mandy and my plan was to talk to her and tell her that I wouldn’t be able to serve anymore. Instead what happened was that we sat down and I told her everything that I was feeling and she gave me the most thoughtful and encouraging advice. Where I thought I’d receive words of disappointment from Pastor Mandy, instead I received understanding. The biggest takeaway from our meeting, was feeling like I had permission to do something that God has wanted me and all of us to be doing from the beginning. I was given permission to rest.

Before talking to Pastor Mandy I felt guilty for taking time for myself and for things that bring me joy. I felt like I didn’t have time to just sit and read because there were songs to practice and scriptures to read, friends to call and a husband to love. I thought that I was honoring God by filling my schedule to the brim, my time was being used for him. I was using my time for commitments to church and ministry. I was using my time for my relationship and planning our wedding and improving our marriage. I was using my time for people that God had brought in to my life and trying to make them feel loved and like I was present in their lives. ‘I don’t have time to rest,’ I thought, because I’m doing God’s work

Pastor Mandy reminded me that rest IS a part of God’s work. She encouraged me to start scheduling time, once a week, where all we do is rest. A time where you don’t do anything that drains you of energy or makes you feel like you’re working. A time where you spend each minute refilling your tank. She also reminded me that God didn’t just rest but he ALSO made it a commandment that we, weekly, take a day of rest ourselves. It’s not simply a suggestion or something he modeled for us, it’s a concept the God values so much that he made it one of the commandments.

Since that day Patrick and I have been intentional about having one day each week where we only do things that make us feel rested and give us energy. A day where we don’t clean or go grocery shopping or have important relationship talks or create a budget for the month. It’s a day where we read and watch movies and sit by the fire and just enjoy each others company and do things that bring us joy.

We’ve only been doing this for a few weeks but it has made such a drastic improvement in our lives. I feel a lot less anxious about my life and all of the tasks that fill it, since I started prioritizing periods of rest. I feel like I can swim or at least tread water in areas of my life where for a while I felt like I was drowning. If you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed with life and your schedule, I encourage you to experiment with a rest day. It doesn’t have to be during the weekend or even a consecutive 24 hours but maybe you start off by having one night a week where you don’t make any plans and you do the things that give you energy and bring you joy.

I wouldn’t be writing this blog right now if it wasn’t for my rest day. Writing give me energy and fills my heart with joy but I felt like it wasn’t something I could make time for in the face of all of my responsibilities. Now it’s a permanent fixture on my schedule. I’m not worried about whether or not I’ll be able to blog regularly anymore because I know that my rest day is coming and in it lies time for writing.

So get ready for regular blogs from little ole married, well rested, instant pot using, lump finding, ME. Blogs of honestly and sincerity. Blogs that ask tough questions and seek answers. Blogs about God, love, justice, hate, candy and marriage. I’m back and I’m so dang happy about it. Until next time friends!

Xoxo,

Nicole.

The Holy Hiatus.

Holy hiatus. Friends, I didn't mean to take a two month blog break but it kind of just organically happened and it was awesome. I feel rejuvenated and excited. I'm pumped about where I see my blog going this year and we'll talk about that more next week but first...where was I? What was I doing? Why did I need a break? Let's dive headfirst in to all of that. 

2018 started off pretty rocky for me. Typically, I really enjoy the beginning of a new year and a new season. New Years Eve is one of my favorite days of the year because I feel like it's the culmination of 12 months of hard work. You get to end the year with all of your favorite people and you get to count down the closing of one chapter and the start of a new one. I was so ready for 2017 to end and usually, for me at least, when you're anxiously anticipating the end of something it's because you're hoping the end will lead to a great escape. 

I wanted to escape from the drama that I felt engulfed my life in 2017. I convinced myself that when that shiny New Years Eve ball dropped all of the concerns and pains of 2017 would drop with it. I was wrong. Time heals all wounds, sure, but time does not solve all puzzles and unpack all of our untouched baggage. I walked into 2018 with a semi truck full of stuff that I thought would just disappear.

So where have I been? I've been trying to deal with all of that crap. My word for 2018 has been intention and I realized that I could not be intentional with my faith and relationships and myself until I took a step back and sifted through the mess that was clouding my vision. 

 So here's a quick glimpse at some of the things that were hardcore inhibiting my existence;

1. Social Media - I love social media, I really do. I think it's awesome the way that Instagram and Facebook and even Pinterest, has evolved and grown throughout the years. From the perspective of a blogger and a creative, Social media is a great way to market your brand and to learn from others, for free! The downside of social media and the thing that has plagued my heart is the way that it makes everyone seem like they're having the best day ever, every single day. Like everyone is happy and invited to every party and getting married and having babies, except for you and by you I mean, me. 

I know that social media is where we post our highlight reel, the best parts; it's not where people post their day to day mundane tasks and the trials they walk through. Social media, especially Instagram stopped being fun for me and instead just made me sad and feel bad about myself. So I took a breather, dug up all the weeds and now I'm watering what I think could be a pretty healthy investment the best way that I know how. I'm on social media a lot less these days and when I do find myself there I am constantly doing an inventory of how I'm feeling and as soon as my mood starts to head south, I log off. 

2. Friendships - 2017 was without question my most difficult year in regards to friendships. I know a lot of people in Denver and when I moved here I had this sense that I'd be hanging out with people all the time and that just wasn't the case. I think the real issue was that my expectations were largely unrealistic. I imagined my Denver experience looking a lot like the friendships that I had in college, a place where my friends lived in the same dorm as me and we had the same hobbies and I saw them all the time. After college I went straight to Up with People where you get to spend every single day with your friends, traveling and performing and living this dream life. The real world is not like college and it is definitely not like traveling with Up with People. 

Life, my life at least, has full time jobs and healthy sleep schedules and healthy boundaries. Life requires taking initiative and reaching out when you want to see people because you're not just going to run into them in the halls anymore. 2017 reminded me that friendships, just like romantic relationships, take work and are meant to grow and develop throughout the years. I'm relearning how to put hard work in to my friendships and what it means to put yourself out there. This year I'm sending less texts and making more phone calls, going to less parties and having more one-on-one coffee dates. I'm focusing my energy into loving my friends and loving them well. 

3. Religion - Life with Jesus is not about religion. Jesus wants a living, breathing, real life with me. Jesus didn't come for rituals and routines, he didn't come to develop a religion and a set of strict norms, he came for me. Jesus came for my life and he came for my heart. Last year I got caught up in church and being on the worship team and appearances and systems, so much so that I think I began to get lost in a from of godliness and got farther and farther away from God. My life depends on Christ. I can't live, I can't think, I can't function well without the Lord.

I did a lot of striving for his love and his attention last year. I thought that maybe if I got better at that or stopped doing this, then I'd feel him near to me all the time. That when I just got here or got there, that I'd be sure of his love for me and that I'd make him proud. I couldn't have been farther from the truth. There's absolutely nothing that I can do to make God love me more than he does right now. It's a truth that I have to remind myself of constantly but in the moments where I just get it, where it all just clicks, an all encompassing freedom overwhelms me and it's the most beautiful sensation I've ever felt. 

So here I am. Back on the writing grind and hopefully more vulnerable and transparent than ever. I am so eager to share my life with you and to hear about yours. I'm excited about what God is doing in my heart. I'm so glad that you're here and I hope that you come back again next week. Until later friends. 

XOXO 

- Nico 

Single; the new curse.

The other day I was in a conversation with some friends and I caught myself discussing why someone in the group was single. We all laughed and smiled as we discussed tactics they could try and ways they could put themselves out there. She said "I used to stay off online dating but since you met Patrick that way I'm going to try it." I smiled, feeling kind of proud that I had inspired her recent dating venture and said as I walked away  "I'm sure you'll meet someone soon." 

Within minutes of the conversation ending, I felt sick to my stomach. "WHAT THE HECK?" I thought to myself. I couldn't believe the way that I talked to my friend. It was as if her career and her love for Christ and dedication to family and friends and pursuit of passions paled in comparison to the fact that she was single. We all smiled and nodded as we shared tips of how she could meet someone and none of us stopped to encourage her and remind her of how whole and full her life is. 

Sometimes I feel like culture, especially Christian culture, tends to treat being single like it's a curse. Like if you're not married you're doing something wrong and you need to figure things out quick so that you can be married and happy and have the perfect life. I think all of that is crap but for the majority of my life I believed it. 

It took a very long time for me to enjoy my season of being single. My parents always encouraged me to follow my dreams and to travel the world and never once pressured me about settling down or getting married. I did all of that. I traveled and pursued my dreams but in the midst of all of that I really just wanted to be in a relationship.

I longed for the grass that I thought was so much greener on the other side. I wondered what was wrong with me and since so many people would always ask me about my relationship status I felt like I needed to be with someone.  It wasn't until I moved to Denver, in 2015, that I fully began to flourish and bask in the beauty of being single. I helped plant a church, moved a few times, switched jobs, grew closer to Christ, made friends, went to parties and had more joy than I even knew was possible. 

It's in that intentional season that I learned that to be single is to be blessed, not cursed. It's a blessing to be able to move through life, pursuing all that God has for you without any distractions. When you're with the right person I do believe that they help you to draw closer to Christ and your passions, that's what Patrick does for me and that's awesome but still different. Very different. 

When I was single I would come home from work and spend hours reading my bible. I would go on random impromptu trips that took me up mountains and across state lines. I developed relationships that really helped me to feel like I had community in a city that was so far away from home. My confidence grew and my sense of self was solidified. 

Who I am today is partially a result of the time and space that I spent with myself and with God when I first moved here. I told myself that for the first year I wasn't going to date and have my Denver experience be attached to a person or a relationship and I'm so glad I did that.  If it wasn't for that period of growth and discovery, Patrick and I would not be together. I would have met him as someone who was still struggling to feel complete and whole and would have looked to him to fill those empty spaces. 

Rather then encouraging single people to get back out there and to try every dating option available I would like to take a different route and encourage them to be intentional. If I could go back in time this is what I would have said to my friend. Be intentional with the friends that you have in your life; spend time with them, love them and cultivate those relationships. Be intentional with yourself. Discover your passions, develop your faith and if any part of your life feels empty, explore that and don't be afraid to find out why. 

Be intentional about deciding which things that you will and will not accept in a relationship. Be intentional about what your standards are and things that are non-negotiable and things like how far is too far and how much is too much. If you're able to figure all of that out when you're single and level headed and not distracted by a person it becomes so much easier to stick to your convictions when you do in fact meet someone. 

If you're single I hope that you're enjoying it. I hope that you're reading books and hanging out with friends. I pray that you're going dancing and moving to new cities and starting new projects. My wish for you is that you're thinking about what you want in a person and things that you're not willing to compromise. I hope that you're filling your time because when you meet the right person and if it all works out, you'll never be single again. You'll move into a new season of life that is beautiful and rich and filled with joy but you'll never have that uninterrupted time again; time where your mind is mainly focused on yourself and your growth. 

I hope I have one of those conversations again soon. One where I'm talking to someone who is single and instead of trying to urge them in to the next season of their journey encouraging them to thrive in the one that they're in. Because they don't need to change and they don't need to add someone to their life to be happy. They are not incomplete, they're not lacking and they are not in any sense of the word cursed. They are blessed. 

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

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." 

Boy meets world.

This past weekend Patrick flew home with me and met my family for the first time. It was a weekend filled with laughter, ease, joy and so much peace. It ended with two exhausted twenty somethings on a cramped Frontier flight, headed back to good ole Denver, Colorado. 

As I sat there, two hours deep in a four hour plane ride, I was exhausted and pretty uncomfortable in that awful chair but yet so happy. Patrick, who struggled to sleep on the plane ride there, had his head rested in my lap and was out cold. I'm not sure if it was me letting him have the aisle seat or the nerves of the first trip behind him but on this side of the trip he seemed to fall asleep with ease.

I was extremely nervous for Patrick to come home with me, more nervous than I think is maybe normal. The months leading up to our trip I felt a strong sense of protection over my family and the short few days I'd have with them. I think it's safe to say that I have a healthy but very real air of jealousy in regards to my parents and my siblings and who is around when I get to spend time with them. 

I can't express fully how much I cherish the time I get to spend with my family. After high school I took a year off before college to work and that was the last year I spent at home. After my gap year I went away to college and traveled the world for a few years after graduation before ending up n Denver. So when I go home it's not just to relax or for vacation it's the short and rare window of quality, in person time, I have with them throughout the year. 

I feel kind of selfish admitting this but I think a large part of me was nervous to bring Patrick home because I didn't want him to take away from my time with my family. I didn't want to have to spend the entire weekend facilitating introductions and conversations and making sure he was having a good time instead of just having a good time myself. 

I often leave home feeling like the time flew by and I didn't get to fully soak in each moment with the people that I love. That fear, I hate to say, heavily outweighed my excitement for Patrick to finally meet everyone. Underneath the weirdness, there was still excitement but it never came without being quickly followed by the thought that one of my few trips home could potentially not go well. 

Of course, none of my fears came true. Patrick was wonderful with my family and having him there 100% added to my experience. Patrick is self sufficient, brave, personable and so easy to be around and all of those qualities shined brighter than ever this weekend. 

On the plane ride back to Denver I spent a lot of time pondering the idea of family. I thought about my parents and my siblings and the huge impact that they've had on my life and my happiness. I also thought a lot about Patrick and his family.

Patrick introduced me to his family within the first few weeks of our relationship and it's been such a joy to know them. His family is welcoming and kind and so loving and I cringe at the thought that if he was jealous of their affection and selfish with their time I'd have missed out on so much.

This weekend I was reminded of something simple that we all learned in preschool, "sharing is caring." Patrick shares his family, whom he values so very much, with me because he cares about me and being able to do the same thing for him this weekend was amazing. 

When you start to share the things and people who matter the most to you, I realized this weekend, you gain way more than you lose. I guess family is meant to be shared and before you know it the small knit group, you never imagined would change, is bigger and more special than ever. 

As Patrick and I left the plane and entered the terminal he grabbed my hand and familiarity and relief washed over me and all of a sudden he felt a lot less like an intruder and a lot more like family. 

"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.

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.