a story from the past--part two

(a continuation of this story)

The change was so gradual, but the recognition of that change was surprisingly sudden.

It took a few backward glances at what was, compared to what is.

To see the distance between the two.

It took being a stranger to her past self to see that she was not that person anymore.

She didn't realize it until later.

Much later.

But a bit of confidence and a little faith can go a long way.

And life is so much better when you live it on purpose.

Instead of waiting for it to happen to you.

And there are still days when she wears sweat pants and no makeup and listens to sad songs just for the sake of listening to sad songs.

But on those days when she just wants to feel sad because she isn't feeling anything else, the rut isn't deep enough to take eight months to climb out of.

It's the kind of rut that is just part of life.

The kind that reminds her what happiness isn't.

So that she can remember what it is.

And that's okay.

Because that's just life.

image via vi.sualize.us

a story from the past

She had been in a foul mood since June

But she was blind to her own bad attitude.

Well, mostly blind.

She knew it was there.

It was like that conversation you never want to bring up.

Because you know it's not going to end well.

So she just let it stay there.

It kept her company.

But she didn't realize how much it defined her for that time in her life.

She didn't believe how many "he's" might have wanted to be with her.

Because she was so focused on one particular "he" that wanted everything but her.

And even sometimes, she still wonders what those other "he's" saw in her.

Because she felt so broken so much of the time.

What did they see behind that face of strength she kept up until she closed the door to her tiny little room and crawled into bed?

What made them get her out of bed to go do something to feel like she was alive?

But the big question is: why is she different now? what changed?

image via deviantart

the way to my heart

Love-to-be:

Let's bring it all to the table.

Your strengths.

My weaknesses.

Your faults.

My gifts.

And let's make music from all the discord in our lives.

image via weheartit

Open for Discussion

I've been thinking lately about natural dispositions.

How the mood people generally wake up in is different for everyone.

Curious, pensive, optimistic, ANNOYED, content.

And how sometimes a person's natural disposition colors the way they look to you. The way you think about them. How much you enjoy spending time with them, or what sorts of things you enjoy doing with them.

Because I think people are usually more beautiful when they are happy.

And I'm curious what others' thoughts are about this subject.

I'm curious what my natural disposition is, what other people see it as, and what I think it is.

And if the two differ.

So tell me your thoughts.

About yourself.

About me.

About your friends.

About the subject in general.

"I am determined to be cheerful and happy in whatever situation I may find myself. For I have learned that the greater part of our misery or unhappiness is determined not by our circumstance but by our disposition."

Martha Washington

solitary soul

Things I love doing by myself*:

-watching movies

-shopping...because I can take my time

-getting lost in a used bookstore

-reading one of those used books, while drinking hot cocoa with a shot of hazelnut at a quaint little coffee shop.
-learning about the wonders (and not so pretty aspects) of mass transit

Next week I am going home for my friends' wedding (two friends from high school who are getting married to each other), and I get to explore the wonderful city of Portland.

I'm getting into the city in the morning, but I'm not meeting up with friends until afternoon or evening.

But, you see, I planned this.

I love exploring new places, and don't mind doing that by myself at all.
I fully plan on getting lost in Powell's City of Books for at least two hours.

After which, I will probably meander over to Mio Gelato for a bambino of donatella gelato.

I want to find a great place for lunch. I'm thinking maybe Indian food.

I'll probably spend some time at Oblation Papers & Press and Everyday Music.

But, most of all, I hope to find a new favorite place to visit when I go to Portland. A bakery, or restaurant, or record store.

And I hope to feel a bit more like a city girl, and a little bit more like a more grown up.

image via google

*this is not to say that I don't enjoy doing these things with other people.

cannonball into the water

My natural reaction, when it comes to with those things called men, is to let the other girl win, (assuming there is another girl).

I don't like head-to-head competition. Maybe it's that I'm scared to lose. Or maybe it's that I think it's petty and pointless.

Either way, I tend to take the route of becoming really good friends with that guy, figuring that he'll only ever see me as that, but hoping that someday, when the other girl breaks his heart, he'll realize that I'm better for him than she ever was.

Because I was there.

Because I knew him better.

Because I never took him for granted.

And maybe he'll start to see me as the kind of friend that lasts forever.

{ Now, I could end this post right now. But you would all think that I haven't learned anything from this way of thinking, or from the past few almost loves I've had. }

But that way of thinking is a dream.

It's the exception, not the rule (to quote "He's Just Not That Into You.")

It's selling myself short because I'm too scared of what might not be.

I think I've been too passive, in an attempt to not be overbearing, when it comes to those things called men. I see girls that are like that, and wonder why they just don't get that the guy they want is, well, just not that into them.

I never thought that maybe they look at me and wonder why I never go after what I want.

I have to remind myself that I don't just deserve to be fought for, but that I owe it to myself to fight at least a little bit for who I want.

Because he's worth fighting for, or even fighting over.

And how is anyone supposed to know who I am or what I have to offer, if I never show them or tell them or give them a little bit of myself?

I'm really good at being "the friend." I know that.

But it's comfortable. Maybe too comfortable.

Maybe it's time to start giving myself credit.

It's a little exercise in confidence.

It's a little exercise in trusting my heart.

It's a little exercise in hoping for the best.

Throwing away the safety net.

Forgetting about Plan B.

And leaping into the unknown,

heart pounding,

fingers shaking,

but with gusto and faith.

image via sabino

{Thoughts? I'm interested to see what people think about this whole "fighting for what you want" thing. So comment. Because who doesn't love comments?)

I am what I am

I am: a dreamer a good listener a better cook than I ever thought I would be an optimist an intuitive decision-maker faithful a yellow a bit of a treehugger right brained a chronic procrastinator a giver worth it

I want to be: a good mother someone who lifts others up a strength to those around me a woman of culture a polyglot a seasoned traveler a lifelong scholar well-versed street smart always thinking and creating in love forever

photo via deviantart

e-e-everything is gonna be alright, rock-a-bye*

I'm so grateful.

Grateful for this wonderful gift God gave me. That even when things don't go how I want them to: I know it's going to be okay.

And I know that my definition of "okay" isn't the only definition, and isn't usually the best.

But everything will be alright.

Image via deviant art

*great song.

Marilyn Monroe was a size 12 in 1952.

{I found this picture on Sabino. And I liked it. A lot.}

we can blame the media.
we can blame McDonalds.
we can blame technology and Photoshop and plastic surgery.

or we can find that inner love for ourselves.
and accept that beauty has no dictionary definition.
it is an open-ended question.
and we answer it by loving ourselves every day.

we can feed our souls when we feed our beautiful bodies three times a day.
we can say thanks for this amazing gift we've been given by treating it well:
moving it around, filling it with delicious food, getting some shut-eye at night.

because it really isn't about the numbers: 10, 35-29-40, 145....
it's about loving the body God gave you. and doing what you can so you can move it around, enjoy that delicious food, and get some shut-eye for 80, 90, maybe even 100 years.

image via google