Happy?

“Are you happy?” is a hard question to answer.

In general, yes. I’m grand. My life has never been better.

I’ve got good grades, awesome friends, and a family some would kill for. 

This town may be small, but it knows me, 

I’ve got a life here. A future. I’ve got everything to live for. 

But I wish I could tell you about the days when I’m not happy, 

How sometimes this house doesn’t feel like a home

And this town feels like a daydream.

I wish I could tell you about the days 

Those ones where I can’t find myself in the mirror

Or feel myself beneath the hot shower water.

I wish I could talk to you about the days 

Where I am not happy.

But it’s easier to say I’m better now

Than to tell you that some days are still really hard to get through

Dear Mom, from your (almost) adult daughter.

Dear Mom, 

When it comes to the genetic lottery, there's no way to deny that I lucked out; Between my wonderful siblings, my fantastic father, and extended family that is always fun to be around I am very blessed. But I think one of my favorite parts about my family is you.  My amazing, caring, sweet, beautiful, adorkable mama. And I wanted to take a minute to say thank you.  

Thank you for teaching me.  Thank you for all the wonderful things you taught me. How to knit and how to read. How to drive and how to make mashed potatoes. Thank you for teaching me how to pray and that Christian music isn't always boring.  Thank you for being patient when I didn't want to learn, and for being ecstatic when I finally understood. Thank you for all the other life lesson you've taught me in the past nineteen years that I'm sure I never gave you proper credit for.  And thank you for continuing to teach me now and forever.  

Thank you for being loud.  Thank you for showing me ever since I was young that I didn't need to be quiet to be a lady. Thank you for sharing your opinions. Thank you for always being the loudest laughter in the room. Thank you for teaching me inadvertently ever since I was young how to use my voice. Also thank you for teaching me that just because you can stay quiet, doesn't mean you should.  

Thank you for letting me win. Thank you for picking your battles when it came to raising me. Thank you for not calling me out when I cheated at board games with my siblings and you were the only one who saw. Thank you for finally forgoing your house wide ban on skinny jeans when I begged and pleaded about it at 15. Thank you for not giving me the fifth degree whenever I want to go out with my friends. Thank you for all the times you've ever said "you're an adult do what you want". Thank you for listening to me when I was trying to convince you to let me get another piercing and for showing me that if I do my research and have good reasons and presentation skills, I can change a persons mind.  Thank you for all the little battles you've ignored throughout my life, because you didn't want to have a fight.  

Thank you for letting me be a daddy's girl.  Or a big brother's girl, or a sister's girl, or a friend's girl, or anybody else's girl.  Basically, thank you for never showing me any bitterness when I choose somebody else over you. Thank you for not showing me any ill will when I completely ignored you in order to spend time with other people.  Thank you for graciously letting me make my choices, and for still being there when I (always) came back. 

Thank you for always answering your phone. From when  I was little and called you from a friends house in the middle of the night because I just wanted to come home. Or when I was sixteen and was crying in my bedroom over my "best-friend break-up" and texted you while you were just downstairs. Or a few weeks ago when I went to Florida by myself to see my sister and called you at 9am on your busiest workday of the week, because I didn't want to come home and I needed a reminder of why I should. Or all the times I text you with little stupid questions that I should probably know the answer to.  Thank you for always answering the phone.  Thank you for always picking up the phone and for never showing annoyance at the constant question asking. 

Basically Mom, thank you for being you. Thank you for being a constant in my life when so many things have gone crazy, and for showing me how to never give up hope.  

Love, 

Your (almost) adult daughter. 

P.S. Thank you for giving me some of your looks. I know you had no say in the matter, but I love looking in the mirror and seeing your freckles on my face. 

Somedays I forget to miss you

I have four siblings. Three brothers and a sister. Yeah, I have quite a few step siblings as well, but for the purpose of what I want to write about today, I have four siblings. Four siblings who all somehow are bigger and taller than me, despite the fact that only three of them are actually older than me. 

Boy, girl, boy, girl, boy. 

My parents got the perfect deal. If you overlook the fact that they had five kids within seven years, and for the expanse of their twenties there was always somebody in diapers or pull-ups. Not the way I want to spend my twenties, but my parents pulled through. 

One side effect of so many children in such little time, is that we were all always on top of each other.  The biggest age-gap between any of us is the three years between my sister, Jenna, and our second brother in the line, Brayden (the brother immediately before me). Other than those two the rest of us all have less than two years between us. 

Another side effect of so many children in such little time, is that my siblings are my best friends. And for some time in my life, they were my only real friends.  I am close with my siblings.  I talk to them. I laugh with them. I spend time with them. I am friends with them. 

Early this year (February), my only sister, Jenna, got married (to an incredible man) and moved to Florida. With no return date. Saying goodbye to her was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. My sister and I, even if we didn't always get along, were close.  We talked. When things happened and I need comfort or guidance I would go to her and vis versa. 

And then she moved to Florida. Saying goodbye to her hurt, and moving on and living without her hurt. And for a while there was a constant ache, I was continuously missing her. I would write down the little things that I wanted to tell her on our next phone date. Funny stories from school, or something that happened at church, or a joke one of my friends told me. I actively missed her, all the time. It was always present. 

And then one day I heard a funny joke and I didn't write it down to tell her. And then there were days and eventually weeks between our texting conversations. 

And when a cool thing happened at youth group, I texted my best friend, not my sister. 

And eventually one day, the active ache, the constant missing her, the never ending reminder that she moved, wasn't there anymore. 

I still missed my sister, but it wasn't constant. I could laugh without looking around for her. 

And eventually, my new normal wasn't new. It was just normal. 

The family pictures that were just me and the brothers, didn't seem like a puzzle with a missing piece anymore. And I stopped checking to make sure there was food without chocolate. 

And now, six months later, I forgot to even tell my sister that I had to go to urgent care this week.  

I go about my life. Work, friends, church, family, babysitting, volunteering, and if I think of it I'll text my sister. But there are Somedays when I don't realize that this hasn't always been my normal. I don't realize that something's missing. I don't remember that I used to share this queen size bed with somebody. And I forget that I used to have to eat the chocolate out of somebody's cookies. I forget. Until something happens. Until she calls me. Until somebody asks me how she is. Until I go to a restaurant and see her favorite food on the menu. Until she posts something on Instagram about missing me, and then I feel a little bit guilty. Because for that day, until that moment, I forgot to miss her. 

My siblings and I, August 2014.

10 things I wish I could tell my 15 year old self.

1) she's not a good person for you to be friends with, and you're going to learn that soon. But not before you get your heart broken. 

2) when he tells you he loves you, don't lie and say it back.  He doesn't deserve to be lied to, and you don't deserve to live in that lie.

3) eat something. Please. 

4) it sucks that he's not even in the same state for your birthday. It does. But, that is the type of anger that hurts you more than others. So move on. 

5) forgive her. And forgive yourself. Because people don't come back from the dead, and you can't spend the rest of your life angry that you got what she didn't. 

6) just because your parents or a teacher tell you something does not mean it is fact.  Learn to question everything. Even the things that go with your gut instinct. Do research and reading. If nothing else, you know how to defend your believes when somebody wants to argue. 

7) you're 15. Sex doesn't matter. Stop acting like your better than others just because you haven't "done it". You haven't, others have.  Move on. 

8) spend more times with your cousins.  Don't wait to learn the same lesson twice.  Reach out now while you still have time to. 

9) there is no reason you have to keep in touch with people who suck out your happiness.  Cut off the rotten fruits of your old friendships. 

10) right now you are at a low point. You're really not liking 15.  And I'm sorry to say it, but 16 is even worse. You're going to need to find something to hold onto.  Something to keep going for.  You're going to hit rock bottom, and then try to rebuild your life.  While keeping your whole struggle a secret. But you're going to succeed. And you're  going to create a whole new you. A you of badass haircuts, and stiletto heals, red lipstick, and leather jackets. You're  going to become passionate in a way nobody has seen you be before. You're going to stop holding your tongue. You're going to learn to speak in a manor that demands others respect.  Your life is going to burn to the ground.  But your going to rise like a Phoenix from the ashes.  

Friday Night

Tonight’s Friday night.

I made it through a year without you.

It was the hardest year of my life,

But I did it.

And I learned something because of it.

But Friday nights still get to me,

Because I know that if you were still in my life,

We’d have plans together tonight.

We’d have a sleepover at your house,

Like we always did.

We’d stay up all night talking.

We’d listen to each other complain about our families.

Despite the fact that they were in the rooms next to us.

And what a pair we were,

The “golden child”, that hated her sister,

Because she wasn’t as popular as you.

And the “average girl”,

Growing up in a family full of unremarkable talent,

Just trying to find her own passion.

I made new friends this year,

But it’s not the same.

I can’t speak candidly to them,

Like I always did with you.

They don’t know what I’m going to say before I say it,

Like you always did with me.

They don’t sing the Winnie-the-pooh theme song with me at 1am,

Like we always did with each other,

Despite the fact that everybody else in the house was asleep.

My new friends don’t understand my past,

Like you always did.

They’ve never seen the house I grew up in,

You helped me pack it up to move.

I love them,

And they are good people,

But you were family,

You were my extra sister,

And my new friends and I aren’t that close.

I kinda doubt we ever will be.

In the past year,

I’ve grown as a person.

I’ve changed,

I stopped letting others dictate my choices.

I started doing what I like.

I got another piercing,

I cut 2 feet off my hair,

I stopped taking Spanish.

I’ve had a good year,

But it’s been hard.

And Friday nights are always the hardest.

The night before the last day of senior year

Tomorrow is my last day of high school.
One more final, and I will have achieved everything that I've spent the last four years working towards.
This is the part where I'm supposed to be overjoyed or have some amazing emotional advice for all those who don't believe that senior year will go by as quickly as it does.
And I really want to be able to say to that I am celebrating the last school night I will ever have, by reminiscing with my amazing friends and revising for my government final tomorrow. But the truth is I've spent the last thirty minutes texting my best friend Mady in tears, because I'm not ready. I'm not ready to be done. I'm not ready to never see my friends and teachers again. And I'm not ready to move on from the person that my high school experience has made me into.
I really wish that I could have that moment in movies when the girl gets to talk to herself from the past. I want thirty seconds with the person I was when I walked through the doors of McCutcheon for the first time.
I wish I could tell her how much she would grow and change.
I wish I could warn her how many friends she'd loose.
I wish I could talk to her about how many times the adults around her would fail her.
But life is funny, in that you don't get the lesson until you deal with the heartache.
So I degrees.
I've never been good at organization.
In fact, there are a hundred things I'm not very good at.
Cooking, sewing, running, hula-hoops, science, etc....
The list goes on and on.
But one thing I have always had a knack for is my words.
I like to write. I like to express myself through words.
I think words have a power that none of us can master through any other way.
But I can't find a word for the feeling in my chest right now.
But whatever it is, it's making breathing a little difficult.