Maybe

Man, how funny it is to be back here, blog. 

I think I may be returning to you because you’re a source of that chaos a friend was referring me back to recently.

You’re a source for that uncertainty, that lament, that wandering, and that wondering, even that longing inside me. 

I miss certainty. 

I miss the certainty I made out of my personality these last few years. 

I’ve been so bitter, so hurt and healing, and so self righteous about my journey that I’ve forgotten to just lay down and rest into who I am. 

And it’s so damn funny to me -

I thought I’d never be returning to this place, this spiritual place, in my life to find any sense of meaning ever again. 

But here I am. It boggles my mind absolutely. 

I wish it weren’t so. 

But,

I sense a sort of wisdom in this uncertainty and my tossing away the key and the door and the frame and all of it has left me free in most ways but also so empty in other ways. 

Not only did I throw away the framework for life to me at that time, I threw away parts of myself I really dug into crafting, the parts I’ve been developing and in a roundabout away, working on in a worshipful way. I’ve given myself over to the practice of my feelings, and while those are so very important, I’ve drowned myself in them. Quite truthfully, I think I’ve been self harming in that drowning, forcing myself to feel the most. It’s partly been experiment in learning about myself and partly been self sabotaging not to allow myself space to breathe and pause, to notice, and only attach for as long as necessary. 

And in that way, I’ve also been relying on the ingrained sense of traditional femininity in being the most emotional I can be. 

It’s so odd the way these things dance about my feet like chained goblins. 

I’ve been desiring the most raw form of me because that’s what’s been expected of me and because I take expectation as a means to harm myself with. 

And maybe that’s not a fault to place anywhere in entirety. It’s just this monstrous way of being human this is chosen for us and that we choose. 

And for all the things I love about humanity, there is still so much I don’t understand. I’d like to and maybe I will, but maybe I won’t. 

And I think I’d like to live in that maybe, very much. 

On Community

 This is going to be a hefty topic for me. 

It’s plagued me my entire 20s. 

And I’ve tried not to drown in wondering if it’s just because I am in my 20s that I don’t feel I belong anywhere, and if it’s exclusively a symptom of my mental health or trauma, and if it’s my right to even indulge in this conversation. 

But it isn’t exclusive to any of those parts of me. 

It’s part and parcel of my fundamental understanding and approach to so-called community. (I am using so-called because I don’t like the word anymore, myself). 

I’ve spent all of these years of my life wondering if it’s me and other people like me, while simultaneously not wanting to get swept up in an endless existential dread the size and likes of a white man whose entitlement covers damn near the entire world at this point. 

There are many a self professed loner that would stew and spew on and on about the world being a steaming pile of shit and seeking to do nothing about it but spend time in the self drawn trenches, navel gazing and nauseously expecting the world to conform to them at every which way and turn. 

That isn’t the loner I’m talking about here. 

He’s had his movies made about him and is not welcome here. 

It isn’t just the world at-large as a sucking void that’s the problem. 

It’s the societal relationship - at least in America as I don’t wish to speak for other countries - to the idea of community. 

And perhaps, in that way, it’s the idea of community. I do believe this to be a bit of a stretch but I will leave it here to make my point.

That all of our conceptions of community are inherently hierarchical and diseased. 

Here in America, we compartmentalize every conception of every little thing. And when we’re tired of that ceaseless compartmentalization, we throw away the whole damn thing. The thing becomes something to break free from and in need of saving or salvaging, brick by brick, board by board. But what if the whole house in which we hold these compartmentalizations is rotten, so much so that the rebuilding or the throwing away doesn’t matter because it’s all happening in this rotten house? What if they need not a house but a human in which to exist? 

When I beat my head around the ideas of community, it is always around these two novel ideas: 

Are we a community of individuals?

Or are we individuals in a community? 

One presupposes that the idea of something bigger than ourselves and myself creates space for us/I to exist in and relate to each other because we have individual personalities that speak to the greater good, or even the greater human experience as defined by said group. 

The other presupposes that individuals create a space that is comprised wholly of them, as in a circus of mirrors where said individuals define and decide the course of the group for their own selfish purposes but branded in the context of selflessness because they are, well, in community with each other. 

Both are, to me, full of pretense. 

I will indulge a person that might use this language, but the ideas are pretentious to me. 

Both aim to create space for -certain- individuals and -certain- community, proximity, and likeness which ever way you slice it. 

And this dualistic framework that finds itself thinking it’s ever so clever flipping of words means the conception and whole foundation is so very different from the other is as American as it gets. 

They are one in the same, and anyone that works in dualistic frameworks is duping themselves and others with that duper’s delight of a smile or experiencing a manipulation that shreds my soul into a million tiny shards. I’m trying not to used exaggerated words here but I do find it truly disgusting. 

Community is a rotten word to me for this reason, while I recognize it’s a nice word for others. 

But I am sick of having to find each other there, always on the flip side of words that conceptualize themselves outside the actual human experience, as lived, daily, by us humans that I think know better than the pretense of theory. 

(We are, of course, the creators of theory but I posit that we do that for inhumane reasons that don’t serve us as humans. That’s not to say that theory holds absolutely no importance, but I would view this more as wrestling through our deepest understandings of humanity, not theorizing. I am not interested in theory outside of practice, theorizing humanity outside of practicing it.)

We loners are the ones that are jaded by this ridiculousness, and often bitter about the taste it leaves in our mouths. 

It’s a dichotomy that pats itself on the back for achieving nothing of value but for those it deems worthy of value. 

In community, you are deemed of value if you

1) provide a service 

2) show up regularly to social spaces that are labeled “community” or “purposeful” 

3) seek to change what you don’t like or shut up about it

4) if you aren’t going to shut up about that change, you must then o-r-g-a-n-i-z-e with other people that draw boundaries as their own community within community 

5) if you are going to organize, you must then sword fight and never ever complain about how futile the fight is or how draining of your energy it is because that is noble

6) once you’ve earned your nobility card, you now have the power to have power over others, even if you profess you don’t want it, and your use of that power will earn you value until you are discarded and new value desired of you

If you want nothing to do with this value assigning, if you want to exist in full human form, ugliness and all, if you want out of individuals and community and community and individuals and want deep in to the human experience as it is lived now and daily, you are a hypocrite, lazy, selfish, un-American, and worthless to society. You can hold no value in your human space existing with other humans. 

“Community!!!” “America!!!” “Us!!!” they’ll say. 

I must pause here and make goddamn clear that this is NOT to sympathize, again, with capitalistic power structures that ask us to ignore parts of our identities because we are all so -human-. We all hold precious, very precious parts of ourselves and the most marginalized of us deserve a fight, deserve change, deserve a better America, and deserve to be shown up for consistently. 

What I AM saying is this:

If we beat “community” and “individual” over our heads, we are going to get a concussion. We already have one. 

I speak for no one but myself and that is the whole entire point. 

I am white, I am able bodied, I am financially/class privileged, and I have many privileges that I cannot ignore in my responsibility to enact change for a better world. 

But I am not those things in the vacuum of community or individual or some combination thereof. 

I am those things in humanity. 

I can trace them through my humanity and you can trace them through yours, and that is all there is. 

There does not exist space for you and I that is above human, that I believe. 

For if there were, we might be able to shadow box with it and conceptualize around it as if it is an ever flowing well of some ethereal knowledge outside our human experience, like how we are forcing ourselves to exist right now. 

I know that privilege exists because I am human and I am capable of knowing what I know as a human. 

You are, too. 

And I must here pause again and again make damn sure that I am making CLEAR that taking away the work marginalized folks have created so that my white ass (as one part of my privilege) can understand my privilege is really fucking shitty. I am not aiming to do this here. I am aiming to say that other humans recognizing that humanity has some fucked up shit going on and that I am responsible for that and that it is irresponsible to forget my own humanity in caring about others humanity is all there is. Conceptualizing systems and even conceptualizing itself - not healthily existing together  - is the problem, the very core of the problem. 

I do believe in dreamers that dream in terms of humanity, but I do not believe in conceptualizers theorizing themselves out of human experience simply because we have a consciousness. 

And yes, we MUST show up for one another and yes, consistently. We must make no bones about doing what needs to be done. We must do it because we are humans. 

Not because we are community, not because I am saying all this and you are supposed to be inspired, not because I am, perhaps, “someone.”

If you are inspired or experience something positive, then you are. 

If you detest my words, then you do. 

And you will gaze at my words and others human experiences with a distant curiosity because we can only exist in the space of community, right? And in the context of social media and online etiquette? 

And we won’t be allowed to have human exchanges with each other, those heart to hearts, those moments where I feel real and you feel real because that is too intimate, too vulnerable a human experience? (Please do be very, very wary of those that seek to manipulate through words like these - they aren’t being the most human and they are conceptualizing around that navel gazing, nauseous duality of “needs met and needs thwarted so I will draw a false line where you aren’t allowed to question intention.” Its ugly and certainly skepticism and protecting your humanity are part of being human!)

I want collective experience with the loners, the people being people, faulty and all. The ones not falling for the battering hammer of community forcing its hand into our affairs, demanding power outside of humanity to drive our affairs. 

We can organize, sure, and perhaps we should. We must enact change. 

But I don’t believe in community anymore. 

I believe in collective, in acts of solidarity, in daily motions that I can recognize as the most real and the most human. 

I’m not interested in your (the objective your) fluff and your community that will, by design, always -and I mean always- leave people out that don’t want any part of community but of human experience. 

I hope all communities crumble into this and out of their toxicity, with no pretense as to the struggle they “endured” to get there over time and in painstaking increment. That is absurdly unfair to ask of anyone, individual or community. I am not interested in your spectacle you will make far too late, though I will be there when your awakening happens, and it deeply pains me that community gets to decide the very nature of being human, in disgusting dualistic fashion. There is nothing outside the human experience that humans need be concerned with for the good of humanity. We are already one and our return to understanding that, to manifesting that, to embodying that more deeply in our humanness and doing that together - THAT is what I am interested in. 

Hello

 Hello, old blog. 

And the cliche in addressing you in such way. 

I simultaneously hate you and love you. 

It’s hard for me to share space with you. 

You were so lonely and not getting the help you needed, but I force the space you need this time. 

It’s older me, sitting beside you. 

Hmph. There, you have to accept me because I am you and you are me. 

And it’s odd, the way I hate you. 

We’re in the same damn place these days.

You AND me. 

So many of the questions and longing you felt here you’re still feeling. 

And you wonder why that is. 

And you try to place blame. 

And some of it is warranted. 

And the world really needs to fucking heal still. 

It’s not just THAT community you talked about - it’s all of community. 

And you can’t fix it. 

And it feels like it’s slipping away from you, inch by inch. 

And you’re trying and trying not to lose yourself in the process. 

And you’re so strong and you’re so vocal - you do share your thoughts and feelings with human beings now - but you still don’t feel like you belong anywhere. 

And maybe it’s that you don’t, and you’re not meant to, at least not in the way the world warps itself to find meaning. 

Because you’ll make it and you’ll pave it, but only with the right people. 

And you’re not sure you’ll ever find those people, but I think - I think in some ways, you already have. 

You’re not perfectly aligned like the stars, and you’ll grow and outgrow some parts of pieces of each other but you’ll grow into each other, and that’s what matters. 

That’s community, that’s what you need. 

And maybe it isn’t localized - maybe you’re scattered and a little disjointed like stars falling but you’ll fall into each other. That’s what life has taught you on the long and harrowing journey so far, and it’s the truth you’re seeking and have. 

Hold on to it. 

Embrace it. 

Go with that. 

You’re no less spiritual than you were then but you’re not like you used to be. Not by a long shot. 

And you should be proud as hell of that, Martina. 

You should. 

You’re still that little weirdo that cares, and those words are for you. 

Sometimes When You Do Some Soul Searching, You Start Finding Your Soul

Have you ever read someone else's writing and been inspired to write for yourself? Just happened to me. Seems to happen a lot to me, but we should be careful to make patterns out of our life. That seems like good wisdom to me, person I heard that from.
I want to take this space to list off things I know and am figuring out about myself. I've been remember who I am and discovering further who I am and who I may not be. Here goes.

I like nerdy things. I think. I mean, sometimes I'm terrified that I'm just a hipster trying to enjoy nerdy things for some kind of publicity or something, but I think I really do enjoy them. It's hard because nerdy things used to be uncool and only certain people would really talk with you about them. Now it's like everyone gets a bite at being clever and intelligent...that was judgment nerds taught me to think. Unlearning that thought. But I really identify with superhero stuff, and think I always have. I've always felt the hero, and I can understand the pain and anguish and angst they feel (especially origins stuff). I love fantastical stories, too. If we're not going on a journey of self discovery somehow, then what's the point of your story? That's how I feel. I like books a lot. I wear glasses. I like to write. Am I really that nerdy? Oh gosh...yes? ...yes :)

I LOVE little kid things. Seriously, the cutest nonsensical things make me giggle. It's just so ridiculous that it's amazing. Like, I don't know if I can fully explain it or not, but I seriously just eat that stuff up. It's so fantastical and amazing, it destroys always being so serious and forces you into seeing the world a new way by immersing you in it and making you stop thinking so hard. You gotta laugh sometimes, and the kid stuff is where it's at, I'm telling ya. Also, kid things just tell the greatest stories and have the greatest capacity for simple morals and ethics. It's seriously just the best.

I like theory based psychological thrillers. The kinds built on "what if?" questions. I love manipulating reality around and seeing what other options there are for seeing things. Perception is key in my understanding and I love messing with nonsense thoughts (at least that's what some people call them...I'm not so sure they're so right).

I love movies. You can thank my sister for helping me see this. I used to think they were fun entertainment for when I needed it, but no. They're completely something more now. They're visual representations of life stories, documentaries, the thill of the journey, the motion and action we feel in situations, the life questions we ponder, the birthplace and perpetuation of many lies, the best and worst of life's comedy, relief, a new world, all the many things that I enjoy. That may be enough said right there.

I love Smallville. It's the only tv series I've ever been able to fully get into. It's superhero origins. BAM right there! It's seriously taught me a lot about love and the junk we can deal with. It's shown me some thoughts on life transitions and emotional development. It's shown me a lot, made me cry, made me really upset, made me disappointed, made me frustrated, made me really elated, made me feel many things. But it's mostly just been very, very cool and very, very awesome to me. Yay Smallville!

I love books, which I mentioned. I've always loved reading because it's a whole new world to explore, and that rules. But you don't have to physically go anywhere, which is probably the best part. You can sit in your room or house or anywhere and learn all about the world around you, other people's thoughts, and perhaps even cooler, enter into someone else's imagination. Maybe that sounds scary, but I assure you it's actually mega awesome rad things.

I like religion. I don't have all of life's answers figured out, but I enjoy hearing what others have to say about life and humanity. It's also really scary, too, cause people day some crazy things about it all and some people are afraid to think fairy tale happy joy bliss ecstasy positivity thoughts about it all. That kind of really scares me. I don't want to be that way.

I love my family. My God, this means so much in a million different ways that I may just have to save for a book later. Basically, I have my reasons for not wanting to, but boy, how I really do love them. With everything.

I LOVE romance. I'm a super romantic at heart, and I've learned to not hide that anymore. I love all the cheesy things that some girls get made fun of for, but I don't care. I have a big heart and I want to receive lots of love and give lots of love in grand gestures. I'm still figuring out my giving of big gestures because I've always been made fun of for that kind of stuff (when I talk about it hypothetically). But my heart is good and I love romance! So everyone else can just suck a big one, okay??? ...:)

I still like the idea of ministry. I loathe with every fiber of my being how it's typically done (even by those trying to be different), but I still like the idea of reaching out to people in love for love. I just want it as organic as it can be, so much so that maybe "ministry" won't be anything more than life. And not for some overly divine purpose either. Just to be happy with people. That's it, that's all I really want.

I like little kids. They remind me of what's important in life and I love being there for them. I feel awkward because I don't have a ton of "experience" doing that and I don't know all the things I probably should know about kids, but I like them a lot regardless. I hope to work for a non profit helping them when I finally get a career job.

I love Jesus. I think. I'm not sure what that means anymore, but I know He's never failed me, and maybe I've never really failed Him. If we're together, we're together for good. He's probably my Savior, but I don't exactly have that figured out anymore. He's God, I think. I like God, I know. I really like Him a lot, I do. I just have a ton of questions for Him.

I like the color green. I don't super know why, but I've always been most attracted to it. For a reason? I don't know anymore. Maybe our interests are meaningful only within out uniqueness.

I really like to write. It is so incredibly frustrating sometimes because the words just don't come out clear sometimes and I have other interests, but I really do love writing. It's hard because I want to be other people when I write sometimes. But I can't because I need to be me. I just want to be me already. God, words, come on! Get with me! Hahaha :)

I love smiling about my boyfriend. It seriously makes me the happiest girl EVER. When I smile about him, my whole world feels okay and alright and together suddenly again. My smile about him reflects my heart, even when I've forgotten it. My boyfriend is the most amazing person I've ever known, and it is an honor, a blessing, and something incredibly special to know him the way I know him. And I just want to keep getting to know him. He is...everything.

I'll end with Payton because you just can't beat that, I think. :)

Appeals Through the Human Heart

Competition for the sake of competition destroys hearts. Friendly games rooted in love, not negativity, insecurity, or the like are okay. But competition as a value for "bettering oneself" is not. It does nothing but run the greed and money mill. And in the process creates misery and emotional numbing. Screw competition. I want love and I wanna love.

Love of God

The love shared with yourself, the love shared between a lover, the love shared amongst friends and the world...these are the love of God.

2013

Okay so maybe I read my boyfriend's blog and realized how beautiful it was to remember what Jesus has been doing in our hearts this year. Maybe I stole the idea, maybe. But it's awesome nonetheless and I feel it will explain a lot of what I've posted lately. Here goes nothing.
Well...to begin, in January I started attending a horrible church with an angry and mean pastor. I did this to try to gain some experience leading worship but it only tore up my heart and made me miserable. During that time, I was also taking the most boring class ever on The Hobbit. Saddest 2 weeks of my life. But while at that church, I met one beautiful lady and was able to encourage her and love on her, also having good thought provoking conversation with another girl my age. From that experience, I learned to just trust your gut, not your "be a hero" complex taught you by religion. I ended my time there probably immaturely (through email), but it had to happen. I couldn't go on like that and still be happy. So I moved on.
From there, I continued on CMCing on my floor (spiritual leading) from the previous semester and it was such a blast! I learned to love the girls on my floor right where they were and do life with them in such a present way. Many of them are still great friends today. I spent a lot of time in my room being silly with Jesus and living happily. Alone in my room nonetheless. Alone.
Then... Mr. Payton Smith, the Payton Smith, sort of "re-entered" my life in a whole new way. Around March, we started talking and I told him I wasn't ready to date just yet. Being himself, he sweetly waited on me and really got to know me. What a lover he is. :) During that time of waiting, I really spent time finishing up Captivating by Stasi Eldredge, a book all about womanhood. I can safely say that book taught me sooooo much about womanhood and was perfect for having a few good nuggets of wisdom about boys before dating one.
Also at that time, a girl from the ministry department began mentoring me and even though we only met maybe 3 times, she taught me soooo much about communication and I am forever grateful for her life lessons. They've impacted my relationships greatly and prepared me to communicate well with Payton.
After the school year ended, I said some really tough goodbyes to the girls on my floor. Driving home for the summer was super tough and the first few days back all I wanted to do was cry and be nostalgic about how great of friends they were to me and how well I'd done in ministering to them. I had to move on but moving on was the absolute last thing I wanted to do. I felt so affirmed in that ministry role. I felt like I was finally being me. I felt like I'd finally tested out the leadership waters and blown everyone else around me out of them (in a seriously non-prideful way). I'd proven myself to myself and others. I was perfected in ministry. So coming home was really the last thing I wanted to do, but it had to be done regardless.
I spent the summer "ministering" to my family, which really turned into just hanging and being there for them. My sister broke up with her boyfriend within a month of summer and I learned how to speak to her heart the goodness I'd learned from Jesus that was in there, just like it was in everyone else's and my own. We traveled alone to Florida together and that proved a milestone of our relationship as sisters and as budding adults. We spent much time together, me mostly comforting her in just my presence.
I tried to be there for my mom and get to know my dad a little more. But it was mostly about my sister.
At the end of June, Payton and I officially began dating and when his leg got fractured, he moved back home and we spent all kinds of amazing time together. Near the end of the summer, we began briefly discussing our hopes and dreams and realized they were essentially the same. I always tell Payton that this summer was when I decided what I want to do in life and "who I want to be."
Also during the summer, I completely stopped attending my old church and found a new one that my mom and I started going to when we could. It was nothing I took super seriously (completely opposite of how I was at my previous church), but I saw how beautiful people could be by just doing real community and life together in very small and simple ways. The people there were so non-judgmental and loving; it was completely not like any church I'd ever been in. It was so lovely and solidified, at least I thought, the kind of church I wanted to be a part of in the future as a worship leader.
On Mondays as well, I attended a small group of awesome people that talked about God like He actually loved them and wanted to continue loving them and to be their friend, lover, and adoring father. I learned how to rest in the presence of others, instead of constantly looking around for some kind of social "am I good enough? am I doing this right?" It was wonderful.
At the very end of the summer, I had no desire whatsoever to go back to school. Honestly, I'd wrestled my entire time being there about staying there (save for spring semester of 2013). God and I had basically come to an agreement that if I really didn't want to stay, I didn't have to. And by the end of the summer, going back, honestly, didn't feel at all right in my heart. But I went anyways because as a good Christian, I'd learned that it was probably me missing everyone and I really needed to just be open to growing through whatever struggles would come my way the semester and needed to focus on being a worship leader and getting my degree in ministry.
The first few weeks back were absolutely horrible. I missed Payton like crazy and my heart was torn to pieces being away from my mom and sister after such a great bonding time. My sister also started her first year of college and my mom was dealing with us both being away, so naturally, I just wanted to be there to comfort them and remind them that everything was going to be okay. But I couldn't because I was at school and that was horrible, so I began lying to myself and telling myself that everything was okay and gonna be okay and they would be okay without me.
I buried myself in my schoolwork because I felt I had no choice but to given my workload. I literally had no social life. I barely spent any time with my roommate, who happens to be basically my best friend outside of Payton. Horrible. I ignored her so much trying to get work done that just... ugghh. I rarely saw my friends from the previous year and that about broke me, but was good for me as I really couldn't hide behind the safe ministry-proven facade anymore. I had to truly face my heart and it freaking hurt. It hurt in all reality because it had been buried underneath my schoolwork and theology class and ministry duty.
My theology class, among other things, destroyed my heart. It reminded me of every single thing I hated about religion and the more I tried to convince myself things were okay, the more depressed I got and the worse my heart felt. Thank the good Lord for Payton because I don't know what I would have done without him. Probably went on to get a degree in something that would have further destroyed my heart. As him and I truly fell in love and I gave him my heart, he protected it so well. He was like my mirror I could look into whenever I forgot who I was in my core: beautiful, loving, caring, wonderful, adventurous, amazing. When I finally opened up to him about my depression, he was there. He listened and let me be crazy for awhile. He provided exactly what I asked him to and just by being himself, refused to let me go any further in hating myself or thinking negatively about myself. He knew me and that's all it took.
Talking about what we were learning in our hearts from Jesus over that semester through text message and phone call and trips back home where we sat in the car for hours proved to be my cure. It was all my heart needed to refuse to be squelched anymore. I started to remember what my heart had yearned for over the summer and pretty quickly (literally...within days) realized I couldn't stay at that university anymore and be happy. Realizing that for myself was wonderful; a burden was lifted. But a whole new burden was taken on when I realized people wouldn't understand why I was making my choice. After all, I was Martina, the loving friend leader that was destined for ministry. A natural. What the world church needed. My friends from the previous year were confused when I told them, but they quickly provided their loving support, even though I'm sure many of them didn't fully understand my disdain and total disillusionment with systematic religion and anything that said humans are inherently evil, my apathy about Scripture, and complete disregard for all things sacred. I assume they just attributed my leaving to some divine calling I experienced. It wasn't anything like that; it was natural and I loved my heart enough (or at least Payton did) to finally freaking take care of it.
My roommate and a few other friends were the only ones who seemed to truly get where I was coming from. Surprisingly, some people did speak up and encourage me in honesty and understanding and that only affirmed my love for people who truly don't care about religion either in their hearts, no matter how much they think they do. (You can't lie to your own heart, believe me). The transition was so incredibly awkward. I just wanted  to be gone and not have to tell anyone why.
Finally being home proved harder than originally planned because not only was I still beat up and trying to move on, but my older sister had temporarily moved in with her 6 year old rowdy son and my other sister was back from school, expecting me to hang out with her constantly. It was a rather rough few weeks coming back, but hanging out with my nephew (as well as Payton's little siblings) began reminding me/teaching me about the bliss of childhood, what I felt had been unjustly ripped from me by religion. I saw myself a lot in those kids and they were like my first kickstart back into being myself. The rough stuff eventually passed when my older sister moved out after a few weeks and I spent time trying to recuperate some more. I wanted to cry often for apparently no reason and found my heart asking God consistently "who am I?" all over again. One night, I was filling Payton in on my emotions and he listed off everything good he knew about me. It all sounded so familiar and from there, even when I had trouble believing it, I knew he was right and I finally had something to go off of when remembering myself.
Over time, I learned to listen deeper, past the junk I had just been told about my heart as a human, past the despair, past everything into the beauty of my own soul and there I felt raw and true emotion. I felt love. I remembered love for Payton and for my family and for the whole world.
Now, I'm trying to learn love for my own self and it's incredibly hard. Not only for the simple fact that it's hard alone, but because I once knew it but forgot it over a three month hell period. But a heart never truly forgets its first love, now does it?
So in a stream of thought, quick recap of 2013, this is what I learned and experienced. I'm entirely planning to write a book about much of this, so forgive me for not elaborating on everything in detail. Stay tuned and thanks for reading (Payton ;)).