Twenty-Six
I normally start writing these birthday blogs in February when I have half of an age behind me and half to go. I start thinking of what I've learned during this age, what I can tell people about when I look back at this number in my life. This is the first time in the four years of birthday blogs that I've been struggling to find a way to explain the last year. Struggling to articulate what 26 has been like. This was a really hard year.
But here we are. Here's 26.
I still hate dating. I don't hate men (most days), I hate the process of dating. It is weird and I'm weird and I just hate it. It is truly exhausting. Everyone is like "Dating is fun!! So fun!! You get to flirt and meet knew people and get free dinner!!" And I'm like…have you ever been inside my brain? Should I text him or not because he hasn't initiated texting in a few days but maybe he needs to know I'm interested and I don't want to play the game of "who texted last" but also I don't want to text first every time and am I secure enough is he secure enough what does secure enough even mean maybe my idea of being secure and confident makes him think I'm bitchy maybe I should tone it down but what if that makes him think I'm weak is there a manual somewhere for how this works ect. The older I get the more I am both equally exhausted at the thought of dating and know I have to "put myself out there" (that phrase makes me eye roll and vomit in my mouth) if I want to meet someone. Unless Mr. Right is just going to break into my house or someone will throw me into a surprise arranged marriage. I hate surprises, but sometimes that actually doesn't sound bad.
Pen pals are the best. I acquired a pen pal at the end of last August, and it has been such a gift to write and receive snail mail! How can something that wasn't uncommon that long ago seem so far removed from us now? It reminded me what patience and waiting look like in a world of instant everything. Thanks, Nate, for being a bomb pen pal even though your handwriting truly is awful. And I'm sorry grad school got in the way for awhile, but thanks for being understanding about it! Also, heads up, if you become pen pals with someone in a really pretty part of the country (looking at you, Portland) you MIGHT just buy a plane ticket and go visit them and have a blast. Also also, if you're a young woman who does this to the bewilderment of most who know you, approximately 8 people every day for the entirety of your trip will text you and ask if you're alive or if you're the next inspiration for a Criminal Minds episode. Life is so fun and weird!
One of the sweetest truths the Lord whispered to me this year: "I do not run out of good things. Just because I give someone else something good doesn't mean I have less good to give from. There is enough for you, too." This particular moment came after the complete and utter J O Y of one of my best friends telling me she was pregnant!!! They had been trying for awhile, wading in the unknown of infertility, and we had been praying and believing she would become pregnant!! She had said to me once, "I feel like me getting pregnant is like you getting a husband! We will pray and believe for both of those things. They will come." And I completely agreed. And then the time came when she was on the other side of that promise, and I was not. She was pregnant, but I was still as single as I could be. Driving away from the moment she told me the most exciting news ever, I still felt a sting of sadness. One more moment where it seemed all my friends were getting good things and I was still struggling to believe for mine. I felt selfish for that feeling, but I didn't run from it. I sat with it and that moment is when the Lord whispered that sweet truth to me, and I'm thankful. I'm clinging to it. I really do believe it.
As much as I write about my faith on here, I plan to write more someday about how I'm struggling with it. The Bible has some weird things that I don't know how to reconcile or ignore. Christianity has hurt so many people I love. The LGBTQ community, people of color, etc. I've felt like the more I truly tried to love like Jesus, the more isolated I felt in my family. After wrapping up grad school I could finally go to church again, yet the last few Sundays when it came time to go I've become crippled with anxiety and never went. I don't know why. It's not that I think God's going to strike me down with lightening, or that my church wouldn't welcome me. I'm not ashamed that I've got questions. I don't hate my church or the people in it. I'm sure it's probably something to do with what's stirring inside of me that's kept me away. I can't even fully explain what it is I'm having a hard time with. I hate that I've felt like I've had to be quiet about this part of my faith, the parts I think are freaking weird. I felt like I've couldn't process it out loud because all my Christian friends/family would think I was saying I'm an atheist. I believe in God, I'm just figuring out the nooks and crannies—nobody panic.
Don't say hateful things to your mom. Ever. Even if you feel them.
I wish people came with warning labels. *WARNING: he will tell you he doesn't know if he can start a relationship right now and then kiss you hard and then never make an effort to see you again* Just so when it happens you wouldn't be so surprised, you know? And when you text him something a few weeks later that includes the disclaimer that he doesn't need to feel like he has to respond…and then he doesn't respond…you can be bummed for a little bit and feel silly, but don't dwell. Don't let it start the slippery slope of wondering what was wrong with you that he didn't want. You're just not everyone's cup of tea, Kenz. And people don't come with warning labels, so you wouldn't have known. He has his own stuff he's dealing with. Move along.
When he asks you to meet his family after a couple of weeks of knowing him and then asks you to spend a holiday with them, and then later says "I think we moved too fast," (making you feel somewhat responsible for his choices even though you haven't introduced him to anyone on your side of things) just smile and nod through the dinner as he tells you he doesn't know what he wants. You know the routine, the same conversation it always is, and you'll survive it just like all the other times. Months later, when you've had just a little too much wine and ask him what he thought happened and he answers with "I am too hard headed for you. Two hard headed people don't go well together," you will understand (even after too much wine) what that really means is that you are too hard headed for him. Do you know who gets to decided who is too hard headed for you? You. Do you know who doesn't get to decide who is too much or not enough of something for you? Anyone else.
Let's talk about my weight. Really. Yeah. I won't give you a number but I'll tell you that right now I'm the heaviest I have ever been. Last year, I learned so much about the Lord loving me even when I didn't feel smart enough. Because grad school. But this year has been a constant fight to believe the Lord loves me even when I'm at my heaviest weight. It sounds silly, but really. It's one of the things that has been the hardest for me. I have quietly hated myself for months. It has unhealthily occupied so much of mind, the fact that I feel unrecognizable to myself at this size. And I'm still baffled that a number or size of clothing can affect my confidence or how I feel about my significance or worth.
I BOUGHT A HOUSE! I'll probably write an entire post about that one day. But dang, that was quite a ride.
I've tried hard this year to just listen, and mostly when it comes to the topics of race, people of color, white privilege, etc. White privilege, whether you want to believe that is real or not, is so dang loud. I listened to podcasts, read books, and listened to POC when they tell me about their reality. Any time I wanted to get defensive, angry, or ignore what I heard, I just shut up a little more and listened a little harder. I know there are times to be loud and use your privilege, but I'm mostly still listening and figuring out what that looks like.
I've felt out of sorts this year. With friends, family, myself, my faith. Everything. It's just felt like an off year in a million little ways. There have been good parts. There are always good parts. But I'm mostly thankful 26 is over, and I'm hoping 27 is a little more redemptive and a little less of a prick. And more fun.
Goals for 27:
Lose the weight but love myself in the mean time.
Start learning Spanish
B U D G E T please somebody Dave Ramsey me or something. #help
Read one book a month
But here we are. Here's 26.
I still hate dating. I don't hate men (most days), I hate the process of dating. It is weird and I'm weird and I just hate it. It is truly exhausting. Everyone is like "Dating is fun!! So fun!! You get to flirt and meet knew people and get free dinner!!" And I'm like…have you ever been inside my brain? Should I text him or not because he hasn't initiated texting in a few days but maybe he needs to know I'm interested and I don't want to play the game of "who texted last" but also I don't want to text first every time and am I secure enough is he secure enough what does secure enough even mean maybe my idea of being secure and confident makes him think I'm bitchy maybe I should tone it down but what if that makes him think I'm weak is there a manual somewhere for how this works ect. The older I get the more I am both equally exhausted at the thought of dating and know I have to "put myself out there" (that phrase makes me eye roll and vomit in my mouth) if I want to meet someone. Unless Mr. Right is just going to break into my house or someone will throw me into a surprise arranged marriage. I hate surprises, but sometimes that actually doesn't sound bad.
Pen pals are the best. I acquired a pen pal at the end of last August, and it has been such a gift to write and receive snail mail! How can something that wasn't uncommon that long ago seem so far removed from us now? It reminded me what patience and waiting look like in a world of instant everything. Thanks, Nate, for being a bomb pen pal even though your handwriting truly is awful. And I'm sorry grad school got in the way for awhile, but thanks for being understanding about it! Also, heads up, if you become pen pals with someone in a really pretty part of the country (looking at you, Portland) you MIGHT just buy a plane ticket and go visit them and have a blast. Also also, if you're a young woman who does this to the bewilderment of most who know you, approximately 8 people every day for the entirety of your trip will text you and ask if you're alive or if you're the next inspiration for a Criminal Minds episode. Life is so fun and weird!
One of the sweetest truths the Lord whispered to me this year: "I do not run out of good things. Just because I give someone else something good doesn't mean I have less good to give from. There is enough for you, too." This particular moment came after the complete and utter J O Y of one of my best friends telling me she was pregnant!!! They had been trying for awhile, wading in the unknown of infertility, and we had been praying and believing she would become pregnant!! She had said to me once, "I feel like me getting pregnant is like you getting a husband! We will pray and believe for both of those things. They will come." And I completely agreed. And then the time came when she was on the other side of that promise, and I was not. She was pregnant, but I was still as single as I could be. Driving away from the moment she told me the most exciting news ever, I still felt a sting of sadness. One more moment where it seemed all my friends were getting good things and I was still struggling to believe for mine. I felt selfish for that feeling, but I didn't run from it. I sat with it and that moment is when the Lord whispered that sweet truth to me, and I'm thankful. I'm clinging to it. I really do believe it.
As much as I write about my faith on here, I plan to write more someday about how I'm struggling with it. The Bible has some weird things that I don't know how to reconcile or ignore. Christianity has hurt so many people I love. The LGBTQ community, people of color, etc. I've felt like the more I truly tried to love like Jesus, the more isolated I felt in my family. After wrapping up grad school I could finally go to church again, yet the last few Sundays when it came time to go I've become crippled with anxiety and never went. I don't know why. It's not that I think God's going to strike me down with lightening, or that my church wouldn't welcome me. I'm not ashamed that I've got questions. I don't hate my church or the people in it. I'm sure it's probably something to do with what's stirring inside of me that's kept me away. I can't even fully explain what it is I'm having a hard time with. I hate that I've felt like I've had to be quiet about this part of my faith, the parts I think are freaking weird. I felt like I've couldn't process it out loud because all my Christian friends/family would think I was saying I'm an atheist. I believe in God, I'm just figuring out the nooks and crannies—nobody panic.
Don't say hateful things to your mom. Ever. Even if you feel them.
I wish people came with warning labels. *WARNING: he will tell you he doesn't know if he can start a relationship right now and then kiss you hard and then never make an effort to see you again* Just so when it happens you wouldn't be so surprised, you know? And when you text him something a few weeks later that includes the disclaimer that he doesn't need to feel like he has to respond…and then he doesn't respond…you can be bummed for a little bit and feel silly, but don't dwell. Don't let it start the slippery slope of wondering what was wrong with you that he didn't want. You're just not everyone's cup of tea, Kenz. And people don't come with warning labels, so you wouldn't have known. He has his own stuff he's dealing with. Move along.
When he asks you to meet his family after a couple of weeks of knowing him and then asks you to spend a holiday with them, and then later says "I think we moved too fast," (making you feel somewhat responsible for his choices even though you haven't introduced him to anyone on your side of things) just smile and nod through the dinner as he tells you he doesn't know what he wants. You know the routine, the same conversation it always is, and you'll survive it just like all the other times. Months later, when you've had just a little too much wine and ask him what he thought happened and he answers with "I am too hard headed for you. Two hard headed people don't go well together," you will understand (even after too much wine) what that really means is that you are too hard headed for him. Do you know who gets to decided who is too hard headed for you? You. Do you know who doesn't get to decide who is too much or not enough of something for you? Anyone else.
Let's talk about my weight. Really. Yeah. I won't give you a number but I'll tell you that right now I'm the heaviest I have ever been. Last year, I learned so much about the Lord loving me even when I didn't feel smart enough. Because grad school. But this year has been a constant fight to believe the Lord loves me even when I'm at my heaviest weight. It sounds silly, but really. It's one of the things that has been the hardest for me. I have quietly hated myself for months. It has unhealthily occupied so much of mind, the fact that I feel unrecognizable to myself at this size. And I'm still baffled that a number or size of clothing can affect my confidence or how I feel about my significance or worth.
I BOUGHT A HOUSE! I'll probably write an entire post about that one day. But dang, that was quite a ride.
I've tried hard this year to just listen, and mostly when it comes to the topics of race, people of color, white privilege, etc. White privilege, whether you want to believe that is real or not, is so dang loud. I listened to podcasts, read books, and listened to POC when they tell me about their reality. Any time I wanted to get defensive, angry, or ignore what I heard, I just shut up a little more and listened a little harder. I know there are times to be loud and use your privilege, but I'm mostly still listening and figuring out what that looks like.
I've felt out of sorts this year. With friends, family, myself, my faith. Everything. It's just felt like an off year in a million little ways. There have been good parts. There are always good parts. But I'm mostly thankful 26 is over, and I'm hoping 27 is a little more redemptive and a little less of a prick. And more fun.
Goals for 27:
Lose the weight but love myself in the mean time.
Start learning Spanish
B U D G E T please somebody Dave Ramsey me or something. #help
Read one book a month
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