It's okay

Okay is not a good word in our society; in fact it is generally a bad one.
Okay is the last acceptable answer before someone asks how they can help.

Okay means not good, not good means bad, bad means not good, so on and so forth, and Heaven forbid something not be good.

I am the actual queen of not being okay with just okay. I've come to terms with the impossibility of perfection, but good isn't perfect. Good is just better than bad--better than okay. Good is the in-between. Good is the healthy medium where I have found peace in not being able to please the masses. Good is my comfort zone. Good is good for me.
Bad is not. Bad is uncomfortable, it's judge-able, it's frowned upon. Bad is ugly and ugly is bad and bad is not good--it's a sick cycle.

But sometimes it's okay--even good--to just be okay, or even to be not okay. Not okay usually hurts. Not okay usually involves some rejection and some ugly thoughts and ugly conversations and, on occasion, some ugly crying. We aren't perfect, we aren't expected to be perfect; we are just so incredibly human, and nowhere in any definition of that word will you find correspondence with perfection. It's okay to ugly cry yourself to sleep, it's okay to let things hit you a little harder than they should, it's okay to be a little dramatic, it's okay to rant, it's okay to scream and yell and hit things. Because on days where internally I feel nothing but ugly and not okay and consequently angry, I stumble across old messages and notes from the first person in my life who taught me that being okay {and not okay} are in fact, in the truest sense of the word, okay.
I miss her and I wish that I could say that she would fill every one of my many holes.

"you know I love you more than yesterday and somehow less than tomorrow"

But the fact of the matter is that I'm a mess. In the deepest parts of me I am a mess and will always be a mess and know how to be nothing other than that, and that's okay with me and it is okay with God and it was okay with her.

"keep your head up princess...or the crown falls"

She knew it. She understood it. We were matching messes.

"I love God...I love him in my darkness. More so in my light. But when it's dark...when I can barely breathe...sometimes I will just sit in my driveway and light up a cigarette and stare into the night sky and spill my soul. Because for once I'm not afraid of not being loved back."

Because for once I don't have to be afraid of rejection.

Because for once I don't have to be afraid of okay.

He Gets It

I by definition am a worrier. I am 100 110% type A. I want control of everything. I need to plan, to make lists, to maintain 4 different calendars (true story)--just to feel like I have things in order. Organization is my life blood (second only to coffee) and the more structured my days and the further in advance they are planned, the happier I am. That's how I've always been, that's probably how I always will be.
Surrendering control has, from the beginning of time, been my biggest struggle and continues to be. That's just how my brain is wired. I like nothing less than to rely on others, because that takes the control out of my hands. My emotions and probably my sanity are locked in a glass case that only I have the key to--and so help me if someone does something that may take a piece of control from me and drops a little rock on my case. It's a world-shaker for me.
Sorry for sounding like a crazy person, but c'est la vie.

All of that being said, I had this really interesting breakthrough today. I'm not going to get crazy and say that I had an entire revolution and all in a moment dropped control of my life at the feet of my Father and experienced a weight lifting off my shoulders, because that is hard. And a really difficult, painful process for me that I have to relive constantly, day in and day out. Life change sucks when you're like me and this past week a life change presented itself. {world-shaking}

Side note: finding jobs is N O T easy or stress-free when you have an awkward class schedule and no degree.

Anyways, my glass case has been shaking pretty hard. Like, imagine a rock slide coming down on your iPhone and that's about how my crazy brain sees the idea of a "what-if?" in my life. My emotions might show. I might be seen as not having it together, as not knowing what I'm doing, as unsuccessful. And THAT would be the end of the world, right? That's how it registers for me.

See, I am in a relationship with a God who knows me more deeply than the deepest ocean and loves me more fervently than any Nicholas Sparks character has ever known. And in these moments of shock and disbelief and hidden terror, He whispers in my ear a reminder that He's got this. He's got me. But I'm me and a) I don't like when things get too close to my face and b) I have a habit of disregarding things I don't immediately agree with. So I pull away from those whispers and they fall on deaf ears. That's when I am reminded of just how well He knows me. Because if someone doesn't get the whisper, they're sure to get the shout, and shout He does. Today was one amazing thing after another. I had a super productive morning and in the middle of it received a call about setting up an interview, which is crazy because I literally just started job hunting 20 hours prior. I got so many reminders from friends and family who are so crazy good at allowing Jesus to use them to be His voice when He really needs to get through to me (Thanks, Jessie Chamberlain).

Ya know, I think we I have this skewed view of encouragement where I confuse it with uplifting. Sometimes encouragement is just a reminder that everything is fine. That maybe I'm not sure and maybe I'm not going to be sure for a while and that's okay. And just like that, I felt peace. Peace that was inexplicable and overwhelming and just washed over all my stress and worry and took over my mind. Maybe it's just for today. Maybe this job won't be the one for me. Maybe nothing will happen for me yet. But amidst the maybes, there's a resounding definite--I will definitely be okay, and God's perfect plan will definitely come about.

Mothers' Day 2014

As I sit here in my little housewife apron waiting for the clock to hit 5:15, I am reminded of how blessed I am to have a mother who has dedicated so much of her time over the past 19 years to preparing me for adulthood and all that comes with it. After two hours of pre-cooking preparation, I can't help but dream about how Mothers' Days will be when I have a husband and children and pets and a home (and obviously a kitchen that I won't be using on that day) of my own. But more than that, I think of the other 364 days of the year that I spend in between jobs or in my bed or on the couch or out with friends and how blessed I am to have a mother who takes the time to fulfill unnoticed the role that I'm playing today while her family proceeds with their own lives and interests.

But even more than that, I'm reminded of how blessed I am to be able to celebrate two mothers on a day such as this. For those who don't know (and haven't figured it out through photos), I was adopted at birth and have yet to meet my birth-mother. However, I established contact with her this year and this is therefore the first Mothers' Day on which I've been able to reach out to her and wish her a Happy Mothers' Day. It's an indescribable feeling to know the unconditional love of two mothers. One that no one could fathom until they've felt it.

I've always had a hole in my heart that I plugged and denied having up until recently when I realized how badly I desired a relationship with the woman who conceived me and brought me into the world and whose blood courses through my veins. Her desire to know me as a person, inside and out, is incomprehensible to me. I've always had an underplayed fear of disappointing my parents, but with my birth-mother that becomes less and less of a concern with every conversation. Her love for me is unconditional and that's something that I personally have always been too blind to understand. I've never allowed myself to see the true depth of a mother's love--a love without rules, without expectations, and without borders. My birth-mother opened my eyes to the beauty of a mother's sacrificial love. I cannot speak from experience, but I imagine that relinquishing one's beloved child to another set of parents is one of the hardest things a person can do. But she did it. And while I'm sure her choice caused her a lot of suffering, her pain subconsciously gave me the best life: a life that led me to become the person I am today.

My [adoptive]mom and I have always had problems, and while we get along much better now, Mothers' Day was always a hard one to celebrate from the heart. But now that we are both adults and have a mutual respect for each other, I am able to see her more clearly as a person rather than the dictator that I viewed her as when I was a child. She has suffered long and hard to raise her children (especially me) and she teaches me daily what it means to be a strong woman of faith and integrity. It took me as long as 19 years to realize just how thankless her job as my mother is, but thanks to my birth-mother I have been able to put aside my tainted view of my mom and to see just how difficult her role as my mom has been. While it is one difficult thing to give up ones child, it must be another thing entirely to give up ones self to raise the child of another set of parents as her own. My birth-mother made an incredible sacrifice, but it allowed my mom to sacrifice herself to the task of raising a child who had no genetic connection to herself. A child whose genes even at times clashed with her own and caused her an incredible amount of strife. Sacrificial love has no better image than that of either of my mothers and I couldn't have asked to be adopted by a better friend or mother. 

See, I think we're all guilty of misinterpreting the true meaning of Mothers' Day. We think it's a day for us to spoil our mothers to show our love for them. But I think it's more than that. This Mothers' Day I feel more loved than loving. I think that's what Mothers' Day is all about. Not returning the love that mothers show us daily, but giving them a day off in order to in turn show us how much they do for us and to honor them for their ceaseless displays of sacrificial love.

PS: I know I mentioned spending a lot of time in the kitchen and yes, that does mean that a bunch of recipes will be headed this way soon.

all stuffed everything

I stuff everything. And when I say everything I mean everything from my schedule to my recipes.
I'm somehow finding bits of time for myself throughout my busy insane days, and tonight I found time to actually spend an hour in the kitchen to stuff peppers.
This recipe should feed six, even though I only used 3 peppers...primarily because we only had three peppers in the house.
(I ended up with masses of leftover filling)

What you'll need:

6 Bell Peppers

1 lb. Ground Turkey

1 Onion, chopped

3 Roma Tomatoes, chopped

Handful of Mushrooms (approx. 1/2 cup), also chopped
3/4 cup Brown Rice

Salt & Pepper

1 Teaspoon Worcestershire Sauce

1 Tablespoon Dijon Mustard

Hot Sauce (I used Tabasco), to taste

Chili Powder, to taste

Oregano, to taste

1 (8 oz.) can Tomato Sauce

1/2 cup Colby Jack Cheese

Mozzarella Cheese

What you'll do:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Remove the tops of the peppers as well as the seeds.

In a skillet, saute the onions until they're translucent, then add the meat & brown. Once the meat is cooked, add the tomatoes, mushrooms, rice, & Worcestershire sauce. (I also diced the tops of the peppers and threw them in for fun.) Simmer over low-medium heat for 10 minutes before stirring in the dijon mustard, hot sauce, chili powder, & oregano. Turn off the stove top & stir in the Colby Jack cheese until it's melted.

Finally, place the peppers open-side up in a casserole dish or something with a lid.

Stuff the peppers with your meat mixture, pour water over mixture, top with Mozzarella cheese, and bake (covered) for 15-20 minutes.

Another Year

Another year has come and gone, and per usual I'm looking back at it (through a piercing headache) and seeing nothing but a blur of memories, successes, and a substantial spattering of questionable choices.
This year I fell in love, hopped in and out of multiple jobs, and, most importantly, threw myself into an independent lifestyle--I wouldn't give up a single second of 2013.
This time last year I was in Hawaii with my family laughing, eating, and wrestling my phone out of the hands of my then 3 year old cousin. Today I'm sitting at my desk wrapped in a towel playing with my cat Boo and thinking about my outfit for work later.
In that span of time I've met and lost some of the most beautiful people and experienced the good, the bad, and the ugly.
Here's a quick photo recap of the past year.

Columbus River Walk

Night Out at Montreat

Valentine's Day with Keisha

Julia's Baby Shower

The day Liz & I got random piercings...spring break.

Halloween in Hawaii

The best roommate I could've asked for.

Philly trip for my WWC boys

Lost this beauty--not a day goes by when I don't miss her

Leigh & Max's engagement party

Saying goodbye to Dezaree

Mothers' Day

My bestfriend & roomie

Summertime with the family

And memorable summer nights with Elizabeth ;)

July 4th with the kiddos!

Mom's Birthday

First 5K!

Family Dinner

Georgie's Birthday

The best big brother life could've given me

Loves of my life

Dad's birthday dinner

Sick li'l Toby--so glad he made it another year

There are so many memories I could talk about and so many pictures I could hunt for, but I'm satisfied recapping my year with the ones above.

2013 wasn't perfect, and 2014 won't be either. This is real life, and we've all made it this far. So congratulations, y'all--here's to another blessed year filled with ups and downs, joy and sorrow, love and hate, and triumphs and trials. Let's do this thing.

tonight's thoughts

It's been a while. Per usual, life caused me to forget that I have an occasionally functional blog and I actually really enjoy narrating my life experiences on the World Wide Web. Thanks, Life.

Anyways, tonight I'm jet-lagged and exhausted (a permanent state of being, I guess), curled up in my dimly-lit bedroom with a can of Cheerwine in hand while my cat plays with a straw. I tried calling her, I tried taking away the straw...anything to get her attention, calm her down, and convince her to curl up with or at least near me while I aimlessly peruse Pinterest. And in that moment, watching my little Boo playfully ignore my wishes, I realized how needy I am capable of being.

Weak isn't a word many people would use to describe me. I can act like a b*tch, but as a general rule I just am. And that's not a bad thing--like that's not me putting myself down. It's just a fact of my life. But in my involuntary nature of dominance and strength, I just re-discovered an inherent and powerful weakness...I'm needy.

{seriously, who takes away their pet's toys in an attempt to gain their affection.}

For the longest time, love in my life amounted to nothing more than a superficial notion. Guys "loved" me because I was attractive--I was an eye-pleasing accessory that just turned out to have a generally appealing personality. My parents showed pride in me (which I translated to love) when I performed well in school or dance or sports. Love became an object and the only beings that were incapable of demonstrating love for me superficially were animals. So yeah, I soaked up what I could get from people like a sponge, getting squeezed out and re-quenched only to be emptied again with each endeavor to fill myself.

But I've almost kind of got my life together now so the question of the hour is: why do I still seek fulfillment as if I don't have everything I need? I do this thing where I know someone/something loves me and then I leech love from them like a mosquito does blood. I play this role of someone who has it all together. I pretend to be this trophy acquaintance (daughter or sister of girlfriend or employee or friend--fill in the blank based on context), but the truth of the matter is that I'm still pretty cracked. I don't have all the pieces to the puzzle and even if I did, I sure as hell wouldn't know how to fit them all together.

All that being said, tonight I realized that I'm screwed up. 

I come from a well-off family, I've never been deprived of anything, I live [mostly] stably on my own, I'm ambitious academically as well as socially and professionally, I have a sound relationship with my Heavenly Father...none of that makes me perfect and it never will. 

But somewhere along the line, God is going to use that reality to fill the holes of my spongy, needy little soul and put it at peace with the right people.

And that's all my caffeine-hyped, jet-lagged little brain can muster for tonight.

My Awkward Stage.

It's no secret that I'm a very independent and spontaneous spirit. Everyone who knows me knows that full well.

But there's also a tiny little piece of me that's still a people-pleaser, and I don't think that will ever change.

This is all just hitting me now--I really couldn't care any less about how my friends and others around me perceive me. It's my life, not theirs. 

Some little spark in me, however, is always alive that wants to please my parents. We may not get along, and I'm usually not very partial to them for that reason. In the long run, though, I'm still their kid, and I still want them to be proud of me. And they're my parents--they raised me--so it's not like my relationship with them could ever become irrelevant like a friendship potentially could. I think that's the only thing that keeps me caring. Some resolution has to be reached; no matter how many days, months, or years it takes, it's inevitable.

After my incident in October, I felt like the ultimate failure. I felt like they would never approve of me again and I was from then on responsible for piecing myself together and making something of myself again. Which I did. I became a better person, and I started living life spontaneously, but avoiding doing anything sinful or wrong. So here I sit with my pierced navel and tattooed ankle, preparing to make an independent trip to Georgia in a few days and anticipating my two summer jobs, wondering why the hell my parents can't just like me. And it breaks my heart because I refuse to change myself for anyone...that includes my family. At the same time, I want them to be happy to have me as their daughter, "good girl with bad habits" reputation, piercings, ink, and all. Roadblock.

I know they love me. And maybe I'm just blind, because I know they're "doing their rotten best" (as my mother would say), I just don't think our personalities are compatible; my brain just can't handle being someone's child and an adult at the same time.