An Ode to Spring

In lieu of the recent return of spring, I wrote a poem, inspired by some observations I've made as it's slowly become my favorite season over the years. 

I’m tired of people describing spring

as this ephemeral

season of delicacy and tenderness

as if it isn’t just as violent

and vulgar

as it is vulnerable. 

Wild thunder follows the lightning

streaking across dark clouds

because the hemispheres are warming up

as the planet tilts its crown toward the sun;

an alarm for what was dormant over winter.

Animals birth their babies,

the trees and seeds yawn, soaking up the pouring rain,

thirsty,

to brazenly flower in a vibrant green.

In fragrant, open blooms,

releasing ingredients for life.

To pollinate. To reproduce.

Yes, these babies are delicate,

and new blooms and new leaves are tender—

but to push and to labor is to endure

bursts

of

pain.

Debilitating, energy consuming.

A product of intimacy, pollination, static charge,

and the clashing of damp atmospheric heat

with the lingering lack of heat from winter.

Quite a different transition from the onset of autumn.

As if bringing in new life takes more

effort than letting dead things go.

As if ushering in the light and warmth

takes more energy than simply turning the heat down.

As if nature knows it must

patiently endure a season of hibernal rest, because it knows

the cost of bringing in what is new.

~here's to the violence of spring

The (New Year's) Resolution Will Not Be Televised

Amidst the slew of "lock in for the new year" performative posts, and regurgitated lists of "things to do instead of doomscrolling" (though I prefer the term "scroll hole") I find myself starving for substance. Perhaps it is my fault that I'm setting such high expectations for general content online, but I digress. 

However, that doesn't change the fact that the internet is hyper saturated with shallow content about changing who you are in the month of January. Therein lies the problem; the inundation of the need for change. 

We are overly concerned with self development, over-therapized, and not concerned enough with what is already working. 

Which is unfortunate. So many wonderful and brilliant people are falling into the pit of I Must Change™ and end up sabotaging the very thing they think they are improving. Thus begins the cycle— unnecessary change leading to discontentment, leading to more change, leading to more discontentment, because why would you revert to the old habits you had before changing, because change is inherently good right? which leads to... ad nauseum.

It's good to have goals. It's good to check-in with yourself. It is not good to constantly change yourself, and it is not good to avoid negative emotions in the process. 

So, how do we respond? What do we do in the face of performative glow-ups and their empty promises for contentment and happiness? What do we do with the pressure?

For starters, let's recognize just that; a glow-up, especially when promoted by someone online, is an empty promise. Most of these influencers and content creators have all the time in the world to do the things they are listing in their videos. Their job is to sell you a lifestyle, to influence you, imagine that. Of course they're making change look glamorous, that happiness is one routine away, one glow-up away, one level-up away. If they can get you excited about getting your life together and making plans (which can be a form of procrastination, but that's an entirely different point), you are more likely to buy whatever it is they are selling. Whether it be a sponsored product or a digital planner that will actually fix you this year!! Because this time, it will work! Just like in the years prior! 

You know yourself better than that. The new planner will not get your life on track. Because that, my dear, is up to you.

Which leads to my second point, where we do some digging. 

Who told you that you need to change? Why does their opinion matter so much to you that you feel the need to give yourself a complete overhaul?

Perhaps there are things you want to change about yourself. But let's keep digging.

Are these changes about aesthetics and appearance? Routines? Do they require you spend a lot of money? Is the cost worth it? Or are these changes about your character? Your physical health?

I'm not going to say some changes are inherently better than others. Because for one person, spending a little more on a nice skincare routine could be a step toward taking better care of their hygiene as opposed to someone who is spending money they don't have on the same expensive skincare. Let's use our critical thinking here. Because that's the point.

What changes are important to you, and why? I urge you to really wrestle with those questions, and avoid taking advice from strangers on the internet. (Perhaps you can detect the irony.)

As you wrestle, you may find yourself feeling negative emotions. Which comes to my third point. 

If you do intend on making changes this year, nothing will change if you aren't willing to allow yourself to feel negative emotions. Not feeling negative emotions is not what self-improvement is about. 

I've noticed a common idea floating around online about therapy, and it is so far removed from what therapy actually does for a person. I'd like to clear the air— Therapy does not make the negative emotions go away, it does not "fix" you, nor does it take away whatever it is that you are processing. Therapy gives you the tools to handle emotions/trauma/relationships/life in general in a healthy way. Because every emotion has a purpose. Think of them as the "check engine" lights of your mental health. They are indicators, meant to reveal an underlying issue. Please treat them as such. *screams in DSM*

What if you crawled out of 2025 feeling exhausted and the idea of "reinventing" yourself is adding all of this pressure and you'd literally rather not. Well I have good news for you.

You can decide to change literally nothing at all! It's that simple! Because it's your life!

You like your routines? Keep them! Happy with the books on your shelf, even if they are collecting dust? Amazing! You don't have new goals but want to use ones from last year? Excellent! That's recycling!

Constantly changing yourself will leave you confused and discontented with your life. The idea that you need to change to be happy, to be your best self, is marketing. It's like tearing down a house over and over, and rebuilding a new foundation, over and over, while someone is yelling at you that you need to be buying their wall sconces and reusable paper towels. You won't know what you stand for, you won't know what you like as you emulate the trending posts online, and you won't stick with routines long enough to know what works, because not all routines are good for every season.

Look at the leafless trees in winter, then admire their blooms in the spring, and do it again the next year, and the year after that. Notice how much fuller the tree gets every year. Notice the tree doesn't hold its leaves all year. Notice its transitions with the seasons to accommodate for what they bring. Notice your capacity for patience growing along side the bark and branches.

Now that we've learned about making productive change (which can include not changing at all) the other hurdle that I rarely see addressed well, is how to make these things stick.

The idea that a new habit takes 21 days to form is fake news. Throw that entire idea away. That isn't how habits work. Fortunately, the way they work is simple. Unfortunately, they way they work is not easy. Because simple and easy are not the same.

Our brain is wonderfully adaptable. The more you do a thing, the more likely you will keep doing the thing. See? Simple. However, starting a new thing? Not easy.

To continue explaining this simply, the brain works in pathways. Every time you form a new habit, you are creating a new neural pathway.  Think about it as if the pathways are like hiking trails. The more you walk these hiking trails, the more packed the dirt is, the less overgrowth you get, and there is little resistance. However to start a new path, you have to walk through brambles and overgrowth, and it takes time for those things to clear. Over time, the new path becomes like the old one. Over time.

There is also the trap of planning. I say trap, because there is a point where it becomes a form of procrastination. It feels productive because you are thinking about the changes you want to make, however thinking about the changes, and actually doing them are two different things.

Want a habit that sticks? Keep doing it. Motivation comes after doing the thing, so never wait for it to start. The magic you're looking for is in the work you're avoiding. Consistency. Patience. All things we hate hearing. But there is no shortcut to lasting and meaningful change. Regardless of how long it will take, the time will pass anyway. 

The rush of reinvention and becoming the best and hottest version of yourself is presented as cute and trendy, and extremely desirable. However it insinuates that having a meaningful life only happens when you reinvent yourself. So let's make this abundantly clear.

Changing yourself in the month of January is not necessary for your life to be meaningful. 

This is your life. Change, or don't! It is completely up to you.

~I just want to be more organized and make stuff. Probably write some more. Or not. Who knows?

Redemption is Silver

Each blog post I've shared so far has been from a place of wanting to teach and counsel. I get great joy out of teaching and counseling, and I've gone through hellfire enough times to see some things and know some things about some painful things. And wisdom is best shared. 

But this bomb that recently blew up in my life has me feeling as if the wisdom I've learned and shared in the past is embarrassingly underdeveloped. I'm revisiting old journal entries, the books and materials I've gathered over the years on forgiveness and boundaries and healing, and I feel like past me missed out on something greater in my healing journey. (Hindsight is always 20/20 amirite.)

The healing journey naturally stirs up many questions, much of which asked while shaking a fist at the sky, demanding that God fix these wrongs — why did You allow this happen, why didn't I say something before, why does this have to hurt so much, why, why, why... Questions are great, invited even. Jesus answered many questions in His ministry, and He continues to answer our questions, though often times He answers them in a way that spurs more questions. The parables are an example of that. Here, in the topic of questions, is where past me had a narrow understanding.

When God answers our questions, He will never give us an answer that makes us believe we can be self-sufficient. It's not in His nature to give us something that will pull us away from Him. This is good news; our Creator knows what is best for us, just as the artist knows the painting's meaning through and through, and how the inventor knows their invention best. God loves His kids! He wants to do life with us, so God gives us answers that are straightforward enough to give us direction, but cryptic enough to motivate us to continue seeking Him. This opens the avenue to build a relationship with Him. 

In the past I sought the Lord so He could answer the questions I had during the storms I was navigating. And I 'm seeking Him to answer questions in this current storm. There is nothing wrong with wanting answers. But I realize that my underdeveloped spiritual eyes didn't see how I needed to seek God for Him. And the lack of peace I was feeling in some areas of my healing journey was precisely due to this issue.

Seeking answers from God should never draw us away or take precedence over seeking God Himself. That is idolatry and it will break your heart every time. 

I don't like that it's taken yet another storm for me to be made aware of this. In fact, I'm quite irritated and grief-stricken. And the questions I have are overwhelming, and heavy. 

This isn't a warning against asking God questions, or taking your raw and real emotions to Him. Again, He welcomes it. He wants to do life with us, and He isn't scared of what we feel. He knows your questions and feelings, but He wants to hear them in the form of honest confession because He loves the sound of your voice.

This is a message of encouragement — be honest with God. Bring your questions to Him, bring your concerns and worries and hang-ups and raw emotion. It's what Job did in his grief. It's what Hannah did in hers. His prayers and her petition were brought to God in the midst of their grief and suffering. Job made some wild assumptions about his suffering, and a priest thought Hannah to be drunk in the temple because of her gut-wrenching and tearful prayers. (Read in Job and First Samuel 1.) Honesty can be messy, even in the presence of God. But these honest and gut-wrenching prayers produce a peculiar glory and even more peculiar edification.

It's hard to articulate why bringing our honesty to God is edifying and glory-producing, because a lot of it is an experience in the spirit. Not a feeling, but rather a transformation and change. I've experienced spirit-deep peace after honest prayers. Not simply because I'm being honest, but because the power of confession releases the emotion to God so He can untangle the knots it has created in my heart. But that is only possible when I am honest, and when I ask God for forgiveness. This is a peculiar grace, because I know I'm forgiven, but asking God for His forgiveness acknowledges my need for it. It's to practice humility. It's essential, otherwise you're not really praying, but using God as an emotional dumpster. True healing can't take place this way. 

This isn't to say past me was only wanting to read scripture and seek God because I wanted something from Him. I love Jesus, I always have. But this current storm is giving me the eyes to see that I did not fear Him. Fear, in the Hebrew, means "to revere" or "reverence." Fearing the Lord is to respect Him. Therefore, it is entirely, and frustratingly, possible to love Jesus, but to live in a way that disrespects Him. I've heard it put as this: this kind of fear is the same fear you have toward your loved ones. You're afraid to do anything to break their heart or to hurt them. It's the same with God. 

I don't like that I was blind to how I was breaking God's heart, and I really don't like that it's taking another storm for me to see the extent of my blindness. I'm embarrassed. But that's how stormy seasons can be redeemed; God's in the business of redemption. And that was the word He had for me at the beginning of this season — I am going through this storm hand-in-hand with Him, Who is redeeming and restoring the years the locusts ate (Joel 2:25). This season is not just a storm, but a refining fire.

I'm reminded of the story about the silversmith. 

“And he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver” (Mal. 3:3). 
This puzzled a Bible study group. One of the members offered to learn about the process of refining silver and inform them at their next study. He visited a silversmith and watched him at work. He watched the silversmith hold a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. The silversmith explained that in refining silver, you must hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest and most consistent to burn away all the impurities. The member then thought about God holding us where the flames are the hottest to burn away our impurities. Then he thought again about the verse. “And he shall sit as a refiner and purifier of silver.” He asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire and watch the process at all times, or if he could get up to move around and come back to it.
The silversmith answered that not only did he have to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was tested in the fire. If the silver was left a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed. You must leave it long enough to serve the purpose of purification, but not too long as it would destroy it. The member was silent for a moment. Then asked the silversmith, “How do you know when silver is fully refined?” He smiled and answered, “Oh, that’s easy — when I see my image in it.”

Past me missed out on cultivating one of the most life-giving relationships I'll ever have for all eternity, because I was so focused on getting past the healing stage, the refining stage, the firing stage — like clay in the kiln, or silver at the heart of the flame — because I wanted to be done with the pain. I was tired and over it. But pain from a refining fire has purpose: to make us more like Him, just like the way refined silver becomes a mirror for the refiner. The most beautiful part? He never takes His eyes off of us during the entire process. 

I'll make this clear: I have grace for past me. She did the best she could with what she had. Being able to recognize my past impatience and desire to avoid more pain is proof that God is working His redemptive power in my life, just as He promised He would. This brings me much joy.

This storm I'm navigating is intense. Some days I feel like I might shipwreck, and my first instinct is to measure the height of the waves.

However it's a waste of time to calculate the height of the waves in your storm when Jesus can walk on them anyway. All we have to do is take His hand and have faith, secure in the knowledge that storms pass, and He will never leave my side. 

I'm just grateful that this time, my eyes are locked on the King.

~It is not well with my circumstances, but it is well with my soul.

Proud Imperfectionist

Perfectionism is a straight up scam. A farse. Fake news. 

So I'm quitting it, cold turkey.

Well, as cold turkey as I can get because even now, I'm struggling to write this. Because it has to be perfect. The irony is real. 

I've given a lot of thought to the perfectionism issue because I'm just one of many victims that fall prey to it. It's insidious, with the shiniest of exteriors — what could go wrong with perfect, right? However "perfect" isn't the issue because, as it turns out, ✨we are the problem✨

The age old "human condition" strikes again, which is why we shouldn't aim to be perfect, but to be better than we were the day before as we all run our own race. In order to do that, we need to embrace imperfection. It's the only way we can ever hope to find the peace and freedom to become our very best selves. 

Perfectionism exists in many forms, one form of which is in season; the infamous new year's resolutions. It's not surprising to see people fall off the wagon within two weeks of January first because the expectation that the "new year new me" mindset is going to carry them through the year is not sustainable. 

A "fresh start" doesn't actually exist, so expecting it to help you become the best possible version of yourself is a trap. The path to self-improvement based on a "fresh start" promises immediate results and lasting change with little effort. I'm not against self-improvement, however. (If you're new here, read some of my older posts lol) I'm not even against new year's resolutions, it's great to have goals. But there has to be an understanding that we never actually get a fresh start because we all start from experience. A fresh start mindset doesn't take into account your bad habits or the version of yourself that you're trying to change; your gluttonous-holiday self, your last-January self, your toxic-traits self. It's all brought into your fresh start; those bad habits took time to form, and it will take time to break them. 

It's healthy to expect mistakes, but only when you give yourself the grace to learn from them — mistakes are not true failures, neither is a lack of motivation or not being able to meet your goals with your all, every day. Quite frankly, that's also very exhausting and not sustainable. The only way you truly fail is when you dwell on your mistakes and give up entirely. It's why the diet never lasts beyond Monday, why studying is still hard this semester, and why a gym membership isn't used beyond the first session.

Perfectionism is relative, therefore, it can be selfish and manipulative. This is simply realized when we ask random people on the street what their perfect afternoon would look like. Who is one person to tell another that "perfect" only exists as reading a book on the couch, when the other's "perfect" is spending time with their kids? The "perfect" pizza for a vegetarian would definitely be different than the person who regularly orders a meat lover's. Perfect is relative, therefore, it does not exist. 

This is why it s u c k s. We are digging our own graves, killing our motivation and creativity with an expectation we've set for ourselves based solely on preference. It's the perfect poison. (Pun is so intended.)

You could argue that it does exists but only in the relative sense and that there's a word for it, so I guess, yeah sure, it does. But doesn't that defeat the whole idea of perfect? Isn't it supposed to be, by definition, a universal standard?

Philosophy aside, perfectionism is a burden. There is no grace in it, no peace, and no room for growth. It's a breeding ground for pride and anxiety, driven by the unnecessary pressure and panic of "getting things right" all the time. We weren't designed for this panic. God did not make us from dust and bone for us to run around like headless chickens, worrying and trying to get things perfect, as if God hasn't already done all of the work for us. We are fallible, and will never live up to "perfect." Without imperfections, there is no need for grace. And with no need for grace, what did Jesus die for?

I don't expect that with this epiphany I've had, I'll have all of this mastered going into the new year — that would be duplicitous of me and deliciously ironic. But I do know that making the decision to let go, let God, and to refuse participating in "perfect" I already feel unburdened. So, I urge you dear reader, to unburden yourself, and find peace by embracing imperfection. Peace is a bond and it ties us together in humility because of our shared understanding of the inevitability of mistakes. You free yourself from weighty expectations, and assumed responsibility and control that you don't actually have when you tell perfection "no." Imperfections are what make life so much sweeter, more authentic, more gracious. That is why I am a proud imperfectionist.

~Special thanks to Oliver Burkeman's newsletter and this Christian R&B playlist I found on Spotify for inspiring this post✨

Control is Overrated

I've been holding back. Watering down my story with preface after preface (maybe this post counts as a preface lol) and I'm really sick of it. 

There is so much I want to say, and it's getting very heavy to carry. But I'm not here to confess anything, because that's not really the point of this. I'm more interested in why I've been holding back, even in the littlest things. 

I could list off what is expected, like a lack of confidence or I'm feeling silenced, but after closer examination, I've realized I'm only holding back because of one thing, and that's fear. No one likes being misunderstood or being responsible for uncomfortable conversations, and I'm learning that I've been avoiding some situations that require this of me. But as a divorced and remarried Christian woman with three diagnosed mental illnesses that had a baby two months before graduating with her Bachelor's degree in psychology, these situations are necessary and inevitable.

I don't admit this freely and comfortably. Well, maybe freely. This is the internet. But it's never comfortable to face parts of yourself you promised you wouldn't adopt into your behaviors. But alas, we are creatures of habit, imitation, and fault. 

My first draft of this post was complete garbage. I was angry and fed up with a lot of injustices, so I wrote, and it felt really good to get it off my chest. In this moment of weakness, however, I fought the urge to share everything on my mind because it would've been out of a heart of needing people to understand how "right" I am. Which is a problem, because it indicates a "wrong" side, and would turn me into some sort of martyr because of my trauma. And, ironically would've made me look like the pontificating windbag I told myself I would never become. Not only would that have been inappropriate, but so fruitless and plain wrong. 

Because it isn't about me. It's about truth. And the truth is, I'm tired of gossip, I'm tired of grief, and I'm tired people expecting me to put lipstick on a pig and brush things under the rug. I'm tired of assuming people expect things of me and I'm tired of expectations, assumed or not, being a motivating force for me to do anything. 

Ultimately, my first draft lacked grace and forgiveness, things I've fought so hard to advocate for, and it was really embarrassing to read. 

And like a whisper, I heard these words.

"Don't let your heart be controlled by their actions."

The ultimate soul-poke. In my moment of weakness, I'd become the very thing I've fought to not become in my healing journey; bitter. God spoke the truth with so much grace, so I scrapped the first draft of this and started fresh. ✨so here I am✨

This doesn't mean that I'm not angry or tired anymore, as nice as that would be, but those words snapped me back into the right heart posture. Sure, I have plenty to be angry about, and many reasons why I'm tired, but those words were the mirror I needed to see that I'm feeling this way largely due to all of the crap I've been inadvertently holding onto. I need to just let go. And honestly, I'm really tired of holding on. 

In light of this discovery, to let go started with me leaving my past self alone. I ask her too many dumb questions like "How did you not see this coming?" or my personal favorite "Why didn't you say this instead?" 

Because the past version of myself was genuinely in love. It wasn't her fault that she was lied to or used as a human doormat. She didn't know any better, she was young, and she was learning. And that's okay. She didn't know she needed to stand up for herself or be tough as nails or cut people off because she couldn't see what the future held. And that's okay. She did what she could, and she did a damn good job of it, considering she didn't know what I know now. I won't discredit the hard work I did by asking silly questions, because my past self went through a hard season without the lessons I learned from them. She is tough. And I need to leave her alone. She deserves peace just as much as I do now. 

Hindsight is 20/20 but that isn't going to give your past self a pair of glasses. 

...or something like that.

So, I won't hold her back with questions. I let her be at peace. 

Little did I know that my anger has been my biggest teacher in my healing journey, because I've been too busy looking at it like the enemy. It exposed insecurities and fears that ended up being of little consequence. It showed me how desperately I need to remind myself my identity is not assigned by others' opinions, but in the truth that I am a child of God. The way others react to my boundaries has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with them. Anger taught me that it's time for me to accept it all as it comes, as it came and went, and move on. 

So, I won't hold myself back with expectations I have no control over. I've let go of the need to be understood and seen by others.

Because it isn't my responsibility to make sure people understand what I share, and even sharing what I want to doesn't guarantee that people will see my side. I'm aware of those who've made their mind up about me, and it isn't a great picture. But that's fine. I'm past the need for people to have a good opinion of me, because the point I'm making has little to do with the trivialities of being "liked" and everything to do with freedom.

As I let go, I'm set free. Giving up the control I *think* I have sets me free to enjoy what is right in front of me. And there is so much in my life to enjoy. 

Holding onto feelings of betrayal while trying to heal from them is a form of self-sabotage, even if I didn't seek out to hold onto them in the first place. I found myself wrapped up in figuring out where my past fits in my healing journey and I'd inadvertently made my past feelings my present. I got too wrapped up in "figuring things out" that it became a distraction. It's a mental prison, because how much control do I really have over how people perceive me? 

*spoiler, the answer is ✨none✨*

 Holding on was holding me back from fully experiencing the best and most joyful years of my life! 

God has restored to me wholeness that I wouldn't otherwise have known so well. I cannot let the hurt of my offenders influence how I treat the God-given people in my life; the projection is fruitless and isolating. I'm so beyond done with that part of my life. That's all it is, a part. Granted it had a huge impact and ripple effect, but ultimately, it's just a part, not the whole. And the whole is so much sweeter. 

My now is dripping in gold and covered in peace. Because the truth is, I am already seen by God because He made me from dust and bone and knows even the littlest of details about me, from the number of hairs on my head to my last words on the day I die. I'm already understood by Jesus because He grieved and wept and died and rose again, and would do it all over if it meant I would spend eternity with Him because He loves me that much. I am already empowered by the Holy Spirit in me, who gives me the strength and courage to ask for help and let go of what no longer serves me. I don't need to hold onto things on this earth, the expectations and hurts from my past because I am seen and understood in ways that surpass the human capacity for the same. 

Why would I desire the cheap human alternative when I can let go and receive what is freely given to me by a divine God who chose the color of my eyes and has only the best in mind for me?

I'm learning this is what it's like to process grief; reflect and release. There are things I miss from hard seasons, and I grieve even for those things that weren't good for me in the end, because in those things I can recognize the potential for gain. And in many ways, I have gained. (Unfortunately, one of those things is weight but that's motherhood I guess lol)

The past is my past. It hurt, I lost a lot, and it's still manifesting itself in real ways. (helloooo mental illness!) But I can't afford the distractions and the noise, not when I've looked at my past from every angle and can't learn anything new from it anymore. There are bigger and more important things in "the now" that need my attention, like how my husband built us a bedframe and shelves, and we're making plans to have friends over for dinner next week. 

Grief is weird. Anger is weird. But it's a good teacher if you're patient enough to listen.

Here's to letting go, and not holding back. 

~Let It Go by Idina Menzel was stuck in my head while writing this so now it's stuck in your head, you're welcome.

If all of your friends were "doing it for the 'gram" would you ju- oh wait.

I have like 37 other drafts that I'm working on which is why I've decided to start something new. See how I am?

I'm struggling with discouragement, and I want to share this without sounding like a cross-stitched pillow in all of its infinite wisdom. "I don't know everything, I'm still a work in progress, I'm right where I need to be..." 

My biggest fear is that I share my brain for the internet to pick and unintentionally build this idea that I don't struggle through my struggles.

I remember hearing a pastor once say that what we see online is the highlight reel of a person's life, the perfectly manicured posts to match an aesthetic, to appeal to the masses, to gain followers, likes, comments... and we naturally compare it to every part of our life, including the nitty gritty parts.

It's very easy to see people share what seems like their heart and soul online and think they don't struggle, or when they do share their struggles, it's easy to fall into the trap of comparison. It is hard to not be cynical when we come across these things online because struggles aren't manicured. Chaos isn't organized. 

But picking up the pieces can be. I stress on the can because healing isn't linear and the steps to heal don't really have an order. Healing is often messy, but the testimony that comes out of healing, when all the pieces do come together, is where we can find the tidiness in chaos. 

That tidiness in the chaos often manifests itself into manicured posts online, where the word vomit and ideas are put together in a way that makes sense. 

An online presence is a very small window into the struggles that people face in their lives, so it is important to cast aside assumptions as the viewer, and to be as genuine as possible, without white-washing the truth and crossing the TMI line as a creator. (This is a very important line pls do not cross thiiiiiis.)

So here I am, sharing my mental health struggles and other shenanigans and stuff in the name of truth, honesty, and not "doing it for the 'gram." 

That being said, I'd like to get back to my point- discouragement has me tied up in knots this season. 

I'm discouraged while sorting old photos of me wearing clothes that are currently gathering dust in my closet. Discouraged as I look down at my loose skin covered in stretch-marked evidence of God's handiwork, the reason why the clothes I love are gathering dust. Discouraged by the way my motivation to work out has just disappeared. Discouraged by the lack of artwork I've made in the past month and a half because my son keeps me busy with sleep regressions and getting into literally everything. Discouraged that my ad revenue account is going to close soon because I didn't reach the ad interaction quota within a certain time frame. Discouraged because I'm told what I'm feeling isn't discouragement, but discontentedness, which makes me feel guilty. Discouraged by the fear of sharing this because I don't want to put out the wrong idea that I want sympathy or that I just want to complain.

I've been discouraged because my days just whiz by. I'm so busy, but I have literally no clue what I do all day??

*@ mama's with tiny humans, amirite?*

I don't know what to make of this type of busy. And I know busy, as a former full-time college student with part-time work while planning my wedding in 4 months while getting ready to move. I'm no stranger to getting 4 hours of sleep at a time, when my days consisted of 7 cups of coffee, dry shampoo, and murder. The busy I experience now is gallons of water (because breastfeeding), stretchy pants, and "hey where is his pacifier" or "did he poop today?" Busy, like hey, I can't ever remember to vacuum, and laundry is piling up, but at least I didn't cry today??

*Dry shampoo is also still definitely on this list.*

Sometimes I make banana bread with organic whole wheat flour after a beautiful dinner with all the trimmings. I'll spend the whole afternoon meal prepping and cooking dried beans with a Pinterest perfect Instant Pot recipe. Other times my husband and I will order pizza so we don't have to do dishes and then immediately regret it because we eat plant-based and we definitely got the cheesiest pizza on the menu. Sometimes I am consistent with watering and feeding my plants. Sometimes I'm really good at following through with my entire morning and night routines. Other times I just need to sit on the floor with my son for another half hour, singing silly songs and playing pattycake. Other times I really need to sleep in, skip breakfast and have an early lunch while my drooping plants stare sappily at me. 

A part of me is crushed, and I know a lot of it has to do with how easily I become irritable and annoyed by the littlest of things (thanks PTSD) and the other part of me is going "boo-freaking-hoo, life happens, roll with the punches, it won't be like this forever." 

But there is beauty to find in this, right? 

Well of course, I remind myself as I stare at my cluttered shelves and toy-strewn floor. I'm where I'm supposed to be, I remind myself. Your baby is healthy, I remind myself. You have more than you need, I remind myself. I've got a roof over my head, hot meals, and a warm bed. (lol that rhymes.)

As grateful as I am for these things, none of that acknowledges the suck I feel from the discouragement. 

In a culture prone to romanticizing pain and finding beauty in pain, it is hard to come by what is really needed, and that is to be seen in the struggle. To be told "you're where you're supposed to be" doesn't hold a candle to hearing "this sucks right now, and that's okay.

"What do you need right now?"

"This is tough, and what you are feeling is normal."

"The way you are experiencing the world does not define who you are."

"You are bigger than your experiences, but that doesn't make them any less real."

A little acknowledgement goes a long way. 

It would be nice if discouragement wasn't common, but because it is, we need to be better at encouraging others in a healthy way. Not to say that these cross-stitch statements aren't true, but we cannot ignore the bad if we want to make things good or make things better. Blanket positive statements without acknowledging the discouragement is not helpful or constructive because they diminish the very real feelings and circumstances a person is going through. To only focus on the good stuff and ignore the bad stuff is what we call ✨toxic positivity✨

I understand this is where God has me. I understand things will get better. But things aren't "better" right now, because right now I could use a long hot shower and 5 minutes to myself where I'm not on high alert for a curious baby and extremely aware of my floordrobe I've been living from for the past week. For someone to not try to fix what is going on or tell me how I feel (which is never appropriate in any circumstance e v e r) but to just listen and tell me I'm not crazy for feeling this way. I don't need my struggles validated, I want them recognized for what they are; real and raw struggles.  

Discouragement sucks. Positive statements are good, but acknowledging what is real and in front of you and meeting yourself where you are at is even better. 

This is hard work. I do struggle. And that's okay.

~I can almost hear the little cries of my other drafts as I write this very small but very real glance into the season I find myself in. 

Listening to: Not Right Now by Jason Gray

Living with PTSD: Grow or Suffer

Having mental health problems pushes you to make one of two choices: process and grow, or wallow and suffer. There is literally no in-between.

In my quest to heal from PTSD and depression, God revealed to me that I am to share my experiences, little bits at a time. "You will have your time to share your whole truth, but not yet." I struggle with this. A lot. I know that God has given me this great task to share my experiences by writing a book, but there is so much pressure to share tactfully because my story is tied up with the stories of others. 

All I know is that God doesn't want me to focus on details, names, exact dates or timelines, because He wants me to focus on how I'm becoming more like the woman He created me to be. Plus the lessons and growth are way cooler than the drudgery of trauma. The glow-up is more exciting than the grit.

A part of my healing process has stemmed from making and keeping boundaries. One of those boundaries I made was to not dwell on the details, because not all details are made equally, all while not rendering myself invisible.

*This is what we call a mental tug of war, and why people who have mental illnesses are exhausted even though it's likely they have physically done nothing. Not throwing shade, it just do be like that.*

Details are messy, and it's a headache to keep track of them. The moment I decided to not be bound to the details was when I found freedom. The messy details caused my PTSD in the first place, why would I keep track of them and be retraumatized in the process? My boundaries keep me from wasting time and energy. They keep me on the path of healing.

Unfortunately, boundaries aren't always enough to keep all triggers at bay.

For a long time, I hated the word "triggered" because of how loosely it is used out of context online. It's thrown around like it's a joke, so when someone is truly triggered by an actual traumatic event, it isn't taken seriously.

This is a tragedy. Not only is it insulting, it is very annoying.

Being triggered is almost a daily thing for me. Some things don't trigger me nearly as badly as they used to. A detail will sting for a little and I'm able to calmly work through it and move on. Then there are other triggers that are like bombs. These bombs vary. I typically experience one of two types; one goes off immediately, exploding in my face, and the other is like a time-bomb. The latter of the two is the worst. 

Time-bombs are sometimes not noticeable. You're reminded of a seemingly innocuous detail that used to bother you. You might even celebrate being able to breeze past the detail. Minutes go by, hours go by, sometimes a day or two, then it hits you. 

It leaves you doubting your intuition. How could I have not known? But the thing is, you did know, because you could almost hear the seconds counting down to the explosion. But you decided to push past it anyways, because celebrating growth is much easier to process. (Not to mention, way more fun.) There is relief when the smoke clears, but you only find that the smoke was keeping you from seeing the debris around you.

Time-bombs are the worst.

My most recent trigger was a time-bomb. Hours went by before I realized how affected I was by a seemingly harmless conversation. The conversation details are not important here, but rather how the trigger, like all other triggers, gave me those two choices; grow or suffer.

The trigger was a catalyst to self-discovery, as I recognized the bitterness I let into my heart. Choosing to grow meant extending grace and forgiveness in the hardest ways, praying for strength as God showed me the hardened parts of my heart, and how He can fix them. It was difficult and embarrassing to face the parts of me I thought I didn't have, the parts I thought had healed. 

Making the decision to grow or to suffer is really simple, because no one wants to suffer. However whether or not it is easy is an entirely different conversation. Simple decisions often require lots of work, but the pay off is priceless. The sick and twisted irony of having a mental illness is that you need energy to grow, but energy is often scarce. But to get the energy to do the work and grow, it requires that the work already be done. 

Sick, isn't it?

It's hard to call yourself out on your own dumb behavior, but it's even harder living in that dumb behavior. Choosing growth is simple, but it isn't easy. The bottom line is that you have to make a choice, because not choosing in this scenario is choosing to suffer. 

*How many times can I say "choose" in one sentence?*

Despite this mental tug of war, I've found ways to share those little bits at a time, without violating the boundaries of others. My journey to tell my story has brought me to the conclusion that it's not entirely ready to tell. I remember being told a few years ago that your seasons will change, but your calling will not. I constantly remind myself of this while I find the building blocks for my book. I will tell my story, it's just not the right season for it.  

It is widely known in the counseling community that healing from trauma, when the work is being done to heal, takes at least two to five years to feel a sense of normality. I'm only in year two. In these two years, I have become more aware of my thoughts, which has brought me a lot of peace. Yes, my external circumstances have changed for the better, but that's not the peace I'm referring to.

Being more conscious of my thought life has helped me better identify my toxic traits, changing my internal circumstances for the better. That is where I find my peace and how I can keep my peace. (Because life likes to go "lol hold my beer" when external stuff is good, but it can't "lol hold my beer" your internal stuff unless you let it. Never depend on the external stuff for peace.)

I'm learning that the best thing to do with triggers is to let them happen, because they will, regardless of boundaries. When you let them happen, feeling rise, indicating deeper problems. Feelings guide you to the root of those problems, and from there work can be done. For me, I write, I pray, and invite God to the battle.

The only thing I ask of those along for the ride, please be patient with me as I slowly open up about my story. I don't want pity and I don't want opinions on what I should have done better, because quite frankly I'll ignore them. I am still healing and still have so much work to do. I will never say that my decisions were right or wrong, but I stand by them, because I did what I thought was best based on the choices God laid out before me. And really, that's all we can do.

It drives me crazy sometimes because in a way, I'm thankful for the details. They gave me the opportunity to grow. My trauma didn't make me stronger, the choices I made to grow despite the trauma is how I've become stronger. 

And that is all there is to it. Grow, or suffer. It's really that simple.

~Working through a trigger doesn't always have to be so clinical. Sometimes it comes in the form of baby snuggles, mindless sketching, and Thai food. 

Take That, Adele and Lionel Richie.

I'm in a weird season. 

For the first time in a long time I have a lot of time, but I don't really at the same time...

I welcomed my beautiful baby boy into the world this year, and it's stretched me in many ways. (Pun intended maybe?) 

I'm having a hard time with this stretch. Lack of sleep, turbulent hormones, combined with recovering from a c-section and learning what it is to be mama is the balancing act of a lifetime. I've been stretched in many other painful ways in the past, but this season takes the cake. 

*Can we please stop using the word stretch because I'm stuck on the horrible pregnancy pun and it's getting ridiculous.*

I've always had something that has taken up my time, whether it was school, a job, a boyfriend, my time was always taken up by something, or someone. So now, after several life changing events, I find myself married, with a bachelor's degree, a baby, and no other obligations in the middle of a pandemic. 

I am restless. 

In the midst of this restlessness, I've been trying to do things that I haven't had the time to do before, like finishing my pile of "to make" art projects, to better integrate learning a language and working out into my schedule, and to actually rest (which is ironically the hardest one seeing as I was very good at resting in the form of procrastination while working on my degree lol.) This is easier said than done because babies need mucho attention. 

Well, at least my language learning habit is paying off. 

It's been about 11 years since I've written here, and it's something that has been on my mind for a while. Not necessarily to write a blog, but to just write. I've been working on a book off and on for about 2 years, talking about my experiences, spiritual growth, and how my divorce was a catalyst to something great. I've been silent for so long about many things, and I'm tired of holding my truth in. I've just never been able to coherently put the words together and in the right order. Maybe writing here will help with that. 

Luckily, my writing style and voice has changed since March of 2010 thank God. I wonder why I was even ALLOWED to be near the internet 11 years ago. 

So with the stretching and many things and stuff that have happened since 2010, I thought that breaking my 11 year hiatus with a little "about me" blurb is in place. 

Hello, it's me, or was it "is it me you're looking for..."

1. Yes, it really has been 11 years since I've posted. I have two drafts with later dates however, one from 2015 and one from 2018. Both absolute word vomit. It was fun to read them, and also a bit depressing. It's crazy to see how much can change is just a few years. I've been blessed to see that the changes were healthy for my growth, and that God was in every single detail. 

2. The "now what" after getting a bachelor's degree hasn't quite hit me yet. I'm bracing for when it does.

3. My toxic trait is letting people use me as a doormat and not speaking up until I've reached a breaking point. I learned about this trait under the worst of circumstances, and the response to me standing up for myself was not well received. 

4. I have watched more TV in the past 4 months than I have in the past 4 years. Post-partum recovery is no joke.

5. I love getting inspired and being inspired. The tricky part is moving to the "action" part. I do get there, eventually. Usually when the bub is napping or asleep. Yay motherhood!

6. I've been making stippling drawings of plants lately and I'm super in love with them. I broke the plant streak with a stippling drawing of a penguin, one of a dragonfly, and a gouache painting of a paradise tanager bird. I'm really drawn to nature.

7. I never knew how fun it would be to blow raspberries back and forth with your baby. 

8. Now I understand why people drink decaf coffee; they're either pregnant, breastfeeding, or it's a personal choice and coffee snobs who nEeD cAfFiEnE need to mind their own business and let people live their lives. (@ past me who thought decaf was just for the bad breath, though to be fair I was a college student working part time running on a constant 4-5 hours of sleep.)

9. I've noticed this huge rise in conscientiousness about healthy body positivity, mental health, and being kind to others, and as someone who has depression, PTSD, and body image issues after pregnancy, I am HERE FOR IT.

10. Less is more. I've been taking decluttering seriously since I went through my divorce with my first husband, and it's made my house neater, my head clearer, and my spirit lighter. 

Here's to weird seasons, introductions and all. 

~On another note, I've just finished watching Cheers and now I'm watching Doc Martin. I am totally sucked in.