Saturday, November 25, 2017

It's the start of something new...

♫ It feels so right to be here with you ♫

So here we are. Wow this will be my third blog this year? Crazy. For many reasons, including the boring template I felt the push that this will be my last time posting with this URL. I know, you're devastated. Just kidding, you're probably not a sad as I am. I'm trying to push myself to being a better writer and catering to larger audiences and unfortunately I've outgrown this template. We've outgrown each other. This blog started off as a way to vent the various emotions I felt graduating high school and it's a bittersweet ending to end this story here. I am just about to graduate college. It feels absolutely full-circle. You are receiving bits and pieces of a 4 year story. It's like only reading the bold words in a chapter.

So where do we go from here?

I did say I want to keep writing. Because I do regret only offering bits and pieces of my life, I am pushing myself towards this new platform called Wix. I can fully continue discussing my mistrials and triumphs. This isn't honestly goodbye. It does make me sad. This is honestly where I began. I know it doesn't affect you as much as it affects me, but I think this blog has helped me discover and nourish my love for writing. It has been my emotional diary and sometimes my emotional punching bag.

So what can we both expect from new beginnings?

We can expect more posts. I fully neglected this love for various reasons and I would always blame it on time. Time itself, is not at fault. I could've put down the last episode of Real Housewives of New York or Gossip Girl etc. etc. etc. I chose not. I'll make smarter decisions, I promise.

We can expect pictures. Wait? You're an actual person? Yes I am. I have various shameless selfies and I think photography might enhance our interaction. Hopefully. I look forward to getting more readers or less. Not sure how big I can make my platform. I'd really be content with a 100 reads per blog which is less than I'm getting now. As I said, "Keep on keepin' on."

We can expect poetry, as I say goodbye to you, I say goodbye to brilliantideals.blogspotcom . We didn't have a long run there either, but it will be missed as well.

I'm launching an Instagram poetry blog I need to be more consistent with so please follow me on there when the link is posted. I like anonymity, but this world no longer caters to anonymous artists we are trained too much like the FBI. Our interest would be deflated if we couldn't figure out each others social media.


I don't want this goodbye to be so... hollow.  So here's my advice, to you and well myself. Would this be my blog if I didn't advise myself as well. Anyways, it's time for all of us to take charge of our own narratives. Not in the sense of picking up a pen and paper and writing a story, but making smart decisions in our lives that lead us closer to our goals.

Says the college girl writing this blog with multiple assignments that are due next week and listening to the new Pink album, because let's face it I work best under pressure (or not).

I guess as I am currently up against a rock and a hard wall making decisions that will impact me 25 years from now, I advise you and of course myself that you make decisions that will lead you towards your happiness and towards your goal. Don't let what people say ever hold you back.

I think I sort of touched base with this in my last couple blogs, but it's so important to reiterate this. It's easy to lose track of who you are and what you want. Yet, if you're like me and don't know what you want. Well, I hope you're surrounded by people who truly want what's best for you. I'm not saying to allow people to tell you what to do. That's up to you. Often times, people give us advice and we don't listen. Especially when the people who listen are a lot older, we tend to drown them out. I want you to challenge yourself to do something different.

Ask your mom, dad, grandma, grandpa, professor, teacher, guidance counselor, even employer what their biggest life lesson is. I promise you everyone will have different responses and you can compile them. However, my biggest advice is to pray or meditate. If you're in a phase where you can't pray for yourself, ask others to pray for you. God will lift up their prayers for you. If you don't believe in anything then meditate or write.

The past week I haven't had my phone, so I've been really forced to listen to people. Like actually listen. Not that halfway listening where you pull out your phone and scroll through your feed. Crazy right? Listening and not reading words off your screen exists. I was dumbfounded too. Anyways enough with my sarcasm.

Maybe I'll come back with some Bible verses, maybe I won't....

Also full disclosure, all drafts (within reason) will become published on blogger so you may wanna go back and read some more.

This isn't goodbye.... to new beginnings reader.....

Catch me here:
MY NEW WIX BLOG: (solely poetry). (solely me, shameless selfies, some of my friends).


Friday, October 20, 2017

Honesty is the best policy.

I spent a week after his death in the house. I spent it in isolation. I spoke to a few friends never admitting my grief through text. It's hard to text about something so personal, it's even harder to blog about. I dreaded as the days got closer to me returning to school. I didn't want to be away from my mom, even if it was only an hour. I didn't even want to see my friends. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to consume myself in grief. I wanted to lock myself up in my dorm and only go to class and work.

Some of my friends reached out and some didn't. I can tell you I learned who my real friends were and weren't. I spent a lot of time avoiding my Catholic friends. I spent a lot of time in my room and I spent a lot of time in sadness.

I couldn't bring myself to pray. I wasn't angry at God. I wasn't frustrated with God. I was just sad. I was consumed in sadness. I had days where I barely woke up at a reasonable hour and I still have those days.

I spent time angry. I wasn't angry at my grandfather. I was just angry. I felt alone and unwanted and I had a support system but that support system consisted of only 3-4 people out of the many I labeled as friends. My frustration grew not only at them, but at myself. I wanted to be okay again. I knew my grandfather wanted me to carry on. His wife even told me so. He was proud of me. He wouldn't be proud if I gave up, even though I wanted to. I wanted to so badly.

I didn't want to go to school or work. I wanted to spend weeks in grief. I wanted to spend them in the solace of my blankets. I didn't want to continue on if continuing on meant not being able to call him or watch his favorite TV shows every Sunday morning and buying him his favorite baked goods or even just falling asleep on the couch knowing I would wake up from my small nap and see him again. I missed his expression when he dreaded us leaving his house; he never wanted us to leave. I miss being his support through chemo (as awful as chemo is). I just missed him. I couldn't call him after class. 

It was bothering me. The community I once built on friends who led me closer to God had vanished The floor under my feet was taken from me and everything I built myself on collapsed.

I spoke to God prior to his death. I told him, I didn't know how I would react once this happened. I only hoped that he would guide me. In many ways he did. Even if I couldn't talk; I knew he would lead me back. I wasn't going to be lost forever.

I took my anger out on family and some of friends. I was more aggressive. I was cursing a lot more. I didn't care when I was sinning. Nothing really mattered. I was lost.

Through everything though, I knew I was loved. I think I would at times forget it conveniently.  I just felt the constant burden of being reminded...........



I thought part 2 would be far easier to write as soon as I finished part 1. To be honest with you and myself... it's not. Life isn't you writing a consistent part of a story to make it mesh with another so easily. Life is picking up the scraps. Even faith is picking up the scraps to start over again. That's hard when you're overly critical of yourself. I don't allow myself to fall. I can't. I'd let down too many people.


It's now October 19th 2017. There are several reasons why I haven't finished this blog in particular. One being, because I wanted to report significant change. I wanted to tell you that I fell off the bandwagon and got back on, but that's not true. The only way these blogs are effective is if I don't lie to you or myself (mostly myself I don't get a long of traffic on this blog). I fell spiritually. I think in a way I've been so hard on myself. Grief is not easy. There's no formula for handling death. Yes, you can confide in God (which I try to). The pain still lingers. Every Sunday, I don't go to my grandfathers house anymore nor does he tell stories about his youth. Now Sunday's are just an empty void with nothing to do but go back to college. I avoid the thought of my grandfather entirely now and not because it's painful but I just don't like being sad. Honestly, I do things now that make me happy. I know in my heart it's what he would've wanted. My grandfather was selfish in some regards but in others he wasn't. Like I said before, I learned who my friends were. As hard as it was, I learned who was there and who wasn't.

I think this blog is fueled by so many things. I love living for God. I've been blessed so much since my grandfathers passing. I have a new job and my coworkers love me. I've gotten the opportunity to do things I wouldn't normally do. I learned how to let go. I had to let go because it was no longer healthy to over extend myself for people who wouldn't do the same for me. Maybe, that sounds Un-Christian. I spent too much time revising and editing myself to please other people and maybe they didn't want me to. But I found myself dancing, laughing, and being who I was meant to be with people who didn't require me to extend myself and at least if I did, it was always reciprocated. In the four years I've been in college I dealt with both my mother and grandfather having cancer simultaneously and then having my grandfather pass away.

I've tried labeling myself as selfish, but when your community of friends fails you, are you really the selfish one? Like I said before, I'd be in bed for hours. I wasn't myself. Now through all of this, I crave nothing more than being me. I want to be unfiltered. I don't want to hold myself back anymore. It's so exhausting. I began a vicious cycle of self-blame. I knit-picked myself as to why this "community" wouldn't accept me. I've talked to several of them about this and I felt like I was crazy. The funny thing is you can't avoid people, who don't reach out to you. I'm tired of placing blame on myself. It took me leaving group chats for people to realize that I wasn't there anymore. It wasn't my personal appearance but me hitting a button on my phone for them to realize I was displeased.

BUT, re-reading my old blog posts I decided way long ago to keep everything on a positive note. I know that maybe approaching my problems by writing them in some blog is probably not the best attempt at fixing it. I just got tired of attempting to fix a problem that wasn't on my end. But, back to the positives. I'm not getting into specifics on the negatives. Here we go.. I think I found the answer to my problems in confession one night. My friend Maria and I were on this retreat all the way in TN. I finally got myself together and confessed to the priest. He told me I was being too hard on myself (which I was). Every time I wouldn't pray or I couldn't bring myself to, I'd get mad at myself. I'd get mad at myself for not being happy. Yes, I took what he said too literally and as far as spiritually I'm still displeased with myself more so because I've been sinning and I think I've created a huge drift between myself and God. Which is why for many reasons I felt unqualified for writing this blog because I wanted to share how I overcame grief. I might be blaming my grief a little bit too much, but ever since my grandfathers passing it's been a little harder on me. I also felt unqualified for being a missionary which was something I've wanted to do since Confirmation and right now I am unqualified. I have to get myself together. Again need I remind myself "He doesn't call the qualified, he qualifies the called."

I constantly preach to my friends that Jesus fell on his cross and we have our entire lives to continuously fall on ours. I've fallen on mine. Tremendously. However, I go onto say it's never too late to pick it back up and I promise you, reader, I will. Slowly, but surely I will. I will carry it on my back and walk for  a while until I can run. It's what I want for myself. I'll seek positive friends and force myself to attend mass on Sunday. I haven't for months. I will push myself to continue on and I encourage you to do the same. I want to feel God's love. I sometimes fail to acknowledge it. I always say the world is so loud. I need to find my quietness in prayer. I want my soul to go back to the way it was. I have an angel in heaven who needs me, and that angel is my grandfather.

My next blog will be like the last two. I love those so much.

Thursday, February 2, 2017

Totally and completely loved.


This blog post has been one I've been porcastinating and if you're wondering why, it's because my grandfather passed away exactly a month ago after battling cancer for 5 years. You're probably also wondering why am I being public with my grief (at least if you know me). To be honest, I don't know. I've always wanted this blog to help others and reflect on my life. Sometimes I go back and reread these old blog posts and I'm just surprised by how much I've grown and sometimes I can see where I need improvement.

How has grief impacted my life? Like I said it's made my grow, but also realize areas of improvement. It's hard to recount the events without honestly tearing up. I'll try and keep it as short for both you and I (or maybe not, be warned). Not just because it's hard to recount, but also because I'm sure it's a tough read. No one wants read about someone grieving. We all want rainbows and happy endings, believe me I do too. However, I acknowledge that Jesus didn't call me for rainbows and happy endings. That is far too comfortable. I'm not saying he called me to suffer, but he called me to experience the hurricane and the rainbow at the end in his presence.

December 19, 2016 my grandfather was emitted to the hospital into the ICU. This is pretty common for the past 5 years. He was a stage IV lung cancer patient. My grandfather would always end up in the hospital around winter. Something in my gut had told me however, this time was different. I felt it. I used to have a sense of optimism (or at least as much easiness as one could have when finding their loved one in the hospital). My grandfather was always strong. I would consider him a warrior. He had a strong will to live and he always wanted to combat his cancer. Which is something that at his age is rather hard. In the months prior he stopped taking his chemo pills. It had a negative side effect on his standard of living. My  grandfather wasn't doing too much to be honest. His farthest walk was from his bed to the couch and sometimes the bathroom. Which you're talking about a man who survived a heart attack and two days later began to work again. It was hard seeing him weak. It was hard seeing him struggling to breathe. It was all too hard. At this point on December 19 I knew logically I needed to let him go. At this point wanting him to continue to live was basically out of selfishness.

Anyways, on the 19th we sat around the emergency room and looked into his tired eyes. He hadn't gotten much sleep and he was no longer on his nasal breathing mask but much rather his full on breathing mask. As usual he lied to me and told me when he was doing OK. When in reality he was far worse. He had this tendency of masking his pain and at least trying to smile or crack a joke when I was around. He had a sense of humor at times, and at times he knew his time was coming. None of us wanted to hear him talking about it. He instructed the nurse to let him go if his heart should stop. As you can imagine my mother and I were bawling our eyes out at this point. My mother needed to step out of the room. It was perhaps one of the hardest days we've experienced.

On the 20th it was my mothers birthday. I wished her a happy birthday and off to the hospital we were. I was less than complacent of staying with my grandfather. I was fearful. I didn't want to be in the room with him. I couldn't bare seeing him as he was. I eventually agreed because I knew in my heart that I needed to be by his side. It's what Jesus would have done. Jesus didn't live his life in fear. I walked in that room to find my grandfather out of consciousness. He would wake up momentarily to snag all his cables off his body. His heart was working at 20% and his heart rate was way too high. Soon it got to the point the nurses crowded around the room and told us to say goodbye. It was me and my uncle and we began to say goodbye. We told him we loved him. We were trying to let him go. I snatched the rosary over my neck and held it to his arm. I called my mother and we argued out of panic. She soon arrived on time and we all bid our goodbye's. We had the priest and chaplin come in and that was it. He had a 5% chance of making it through the night. The one thing about my grandfather is he never fails to surprise us all. We stayed there all night and the next morning I found he was alive. He was still with us. He was stable. All he wanted was to go home.

I didn't want much to do with the world. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I didn't want to listen to music . I didn't want to go on social media. I didn't want to watch TV. I was at a complete stand still. I began grieving and he was still with us. I felt like I was screaming for help in an empty pit to find that my screams weren't heard. I felt trapped in sorrow. I couldn't pray. I couldn't open a bible. I felt a wave of anxiety overcoming me.

The overwhelming truth about cancer is, you know it's going to happen and if by it you think I'm referring to death. I absolutely am. Were those words hard to type? They were. I never thought 5 years ago I would be picking up the scrapbook frame of our family at my grandfathers house that I once made when I was 15. I would never have thought I would be given the watch he always used to wear on his wrist or his lucky 2 dollar bill much less his collection of prized polaroids. Never in a million years did I ever think I would never be able to hear his voice again.  I knew it was going to happen, but as all people on earth do; I took time for granted. I only called once every 2 weeks or sometimes once every month.

I lived my life consumed by other things to not focus on his next chemo treatment or how much longer a doctor said he had to live.. and I acknowledge that it was selfish yet it felt as if it was the only thing I could do.

He spent 4 days in the hospital. Every morning we would hear from a doctor. They recommended hospice care which is something they do for terminal patients who have less than 6 months. I held onto 6 months a little too much. I wanted 6 months. In those 6 months he would've seen my cousin turn 7 and my other cousin turn 6 and he would've celebrated his birthday. In those 6 months I could've had 6 months of phone calls, even if he could hardly breathe on the phone.

I spent those 4 days caring for him, feeding him, giving him water with a jelly like substance because he couldn't swallow, and we watched TV together. In those 4 days I spent more time with my family together than I had in months. Those 4 days became everything to me. We laughed together, cried together, spoke to one another, but most of all we were together. My grandpa looked tired and this time around it wasn't just from the cancer it was from living... We all knew it. We all denied it. He couldn't push on and even he knew it.

Finally on the 24th he was released. We were relieved, but he was placed on hospice. We spent Christmas gathered around his bed and we shared a meal. He couldn't bare the thought of eating. He didn't want to eat, much less sleep. My grandfather was restless. I spent that night watching him sing tango. I spent that night cracking jokes with him. I absorbed every single moment. My uncle asked me to encourage him. My grandpa isn't the easiest person in the world to speak to. I tried to ask him to eat. I promised that even though I would be leaving the next day, I'd be his personal nurse. I'd check in and for the most part I did.

My mother and I had to go to Miami to visit some family. We went. We were physically there, but emotionally elsewhere. I had come down with a major cold from ICU. I was sick to the point of having chills and had to spend the day in bed. In those hours I pondered if I should call, if he would be breathless, and would he be even able to talk? Was he on morphine? Was in he in pain? I pondered so much. I needed my mom to call him.

The 27th was brutal. We finally got to speak to him and not his wife. He couldn't talk so she would tell us how he was doing. He spoke to me told me to enjoy my life. I spent a lot of those 5 years after his diagnosis wanting to know how I could honor him and his strength in my life. I had no idea it was that simple. He just wanted me to enjoy. He told me he loved me and that was it. I knew it. He didn't tell me to take care like he usually would (which was his own way of saying "I love you"). He said those words and that point I knew this was it. It was over. I was consumed in sadness having to cover it with a bright smile to make those around me feel comfortable. I was no longer myself.

We celebrated New Years and the next day we left Miami only to find my uncle call us and give us the bad news. He had passed away. He held his wife's hand and just like that, he let go. He spent the day prior opening his arms for his brother to take him into heaven.

I felt a sense of relief. No more chemo treatments. No more doctors appointments where they found other ways to make him live a life he didn't want to. No more oxygen tanks. No more gasping for air in the middle of the night, but most of all no more cancer.

The 12 hour car ride was beyond brutal. I cried at first, then relaxed, then I cried again. Wow. I didn't know who I was. I listened to music at a blasting volume and sought out a distraction from all the pain. Making it home was difficult. My grandmother was someone I needed to video chat with since she lives far away.

I soon chatted with her and one of the first things she said was, "He enjoyed his life." This baffled me. I was so lost. She had no idea what I spoke of with him on his final days.

You're probably wondering why this is called "Totally and completely loved," when all of this is about loss. It's because there's another part to this. I promise you. The story doesn't end here. If it did this would be an awfully sad blog.

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Knock knock, who's there? YOUR FUTURE.

As a young woman who lost her lanyard for her room key, who has been forced to acknowledge the fact that if she doesn't purchase a new one she will indeed lose her room key. She stumbled into the school store, where there she not only found her lanyard but also a degree on a shiny frame. It stood there taunting her, filling her heart with insecurities and a sense of unsureness. A dream, which four years ago seemed so far away was knocking on her door.

It's going to creep on me sooner or later.

So you're probably wondering (or maybe not), what is this talented, honest, woman of the Lord doing with her life? (modesty, oops)

The truth is, I have no idea.

Here not only comes a degree knocking on my door but the unescapable book which commands my life so well, the Bible.

I rarely pray to the Lord about the future, my heart is on the future. Can we please just talk about how hard it is to survive the now? It always gets difficult for me to think too far ahead. Don't even ask me what I'm doing on Friday, I have no idea.

Point is, I am not the most qualified to talk about this. Perhaps, the reason I only pray about the now is because I have this deep trust in the Lord and his plan. Heck sometimes I even wonder what am I going to do? Am I going to work at a radio station? a non-profit? Am I going to sacrifice everything and live my life for the Lord?

My biggest insecurity is that my job will not glorify God. As much as I want to work in radio; I feel that I am promoting music that involves sex, lack of emotional chastity, and worst of all music I listen to but don't believe in. You could argue that I could work at a Christian station, but as awful as it sounds I am fascinated by the music industry.  I have listened to so much music growing up. I literally can't even begin to name all of the albums. My head was always in the CD section of Best Buy.

It's not to say that I dislike Christian music (because I do like it), it's just to say that I am fascinated by pop culture and its influence on our society as a whole. As I dive deeper in faith my fears and future are subject to a tremendous amount of change. I am ready to discover the true meaning of my life, but I am only doing this in handing it to the Lord.

Another fear of mine is not having time for the Lord. As of now, I have an awesome community in which I have spirit nights and I also have daily mass. I have friends centered on Christ. As college ends, that's going to change.

My point in saying all this is to let you know that I'm afraid. But of course, the Lord has a ton to say about this. I got you!

I just know, that regardless God is writing or has written my story. I know all my choices can lead me closer to his kingdom or farther away. When I make a decision, I am going to challenge myself to reflect how the Lord sees it in his eyes. I challenge you to do the same. I want you to trust God, as hard as it may sound at times. Trust in him and do not lean on your own understanding. YOU can do this! I believe in you and me! I believe in both of us! I just want you to remember as you make decisions just reflect on them and make the ones that will ultimately lead you into heaven. At the end of the day, isn't all of goals to get behind those pearly gates and meet our creator face to face?

I have attached some of my favorite Bible verses from websites. I did this on my last post and I hoped it has helped you. It sure has helped me dive deeper into the Bible. If you have anything you want to say  or prayer intentions or anything at all please comment below! I would love to hear from you.

Bible verses to renew an unsure heart....

  1. "Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9
  2. "Those who know your name trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you." Psalm 9:10
  3. "But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation." Psalm 13:5
  4. "Sovereign LORD, you are God! Your covenant is trustworthy, and you have promised these good things to your servant. "2 Samuel 7:28
  5. "Some trust in chariots, and some in horses: but we will call upon the name of the Lord, our God. "Psalm 20:7
  6. "And now thus saith the Lord that created thee, O Jacob, and formed thee, O Israel: Fear not, for I have redeemed thee, and called thee by thy name: thou art mine." Isaiah 43:1
  7. "When I am afraid, I put my trust in you" Psalm 56:3
  8.  “Do not let your hearts be trouble believe in God; believe also in me. John 14:1
  9. "Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. "Proverbs 3:5-6
  10. "The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps." Proverbs 16:9


Monday, September 19, 2016

Where DO Broken Hearts go?

We live in a music scene obsessed with the thought and feelings that go into heartbreak. If you tell me you don't listen to at least one song about a love that didn't quite work out, I wouldn't believe you.

Has my heart ever been broken? Yes, but not in the sense you would think.

I am of the one percent who can honestly say they haven't had a romantic relationship. At 20 years old, I am yet to experience the fullness of break-up texts, binge eating ice cream, and having friends convince me that he wasn't good enough ( a little less on the last point). Heartbreak isn't just romantic, it's in all relationships.

When you stop being friends with someone, you feel it. It cracks you apart and you feel down. If you're like me, I am one to put self blame.

At some point, I wonder where DO broken hearts go? No, not the One Direction song. I prayed and prayed to understand my own heart and wonder what happens when it is broken. Usually, I have a small reminder that it isn't the end of the world. I'll be okay.

The truth is, imagine this, your heart is a piece of fabric.

Let's say someone breaks your heart. It can be a relationship of 6 months or your friend said they're mad at you. This person broke your heart. So this is what happens to your little red fabric heart.

It's been cut. Your heart was cut and the person holding the scissors is the one who hurt you or perhaps yourself. This all has a point, I promise. So with all this chaos and your heart feeling empty and torn. You take all this to prayer. Prayer is that one time you can lay down all these emotions in front of God or Jesus and release your inner insecurities. You become a stronger person through prayer. Slowly everyday you begin to feel better, maybe not completely , but just good enough. You feel it. He's here holding your hand through this and this is what happens to your heart.

God is stitching it back up, he knows you have the capability to love endlessly and he never wants to take that away from you. Maybe like this illustration the yellow thread makes an impact on your heart. Which means you'll never forget the person and what happened but it means you fully forgave them. We have this amazing thing God has given us. We have a power to forgive and a love that we can provide that is so endless, it's terrifyingly beautiful.

So next time you have a heartbreak, it can be between friends, families, or your boyfriend and girlfriend think about the red heart. Heal yourself through prayer and things that make you happy. I think it's amazing to be able to compare the power of prayer to something real. Wow!

Bible verses that can help your heart stitch back up... 
I chose some of my favorites. 

  1. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit (Psalms 34:18)
  2. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalms 73:26) 
  3. fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. (Isaiah 41:10)
  4.  But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.(Corinthians 12:9)
  5.  Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you; he will never permit the righteous to be moved (Psalms 55:22)
  6.  Truly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, ‘Be taken up and thrown into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that what he says will come to pass, it will be done for him. (Mark 11:23 )
  7. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. (Corinthians 13:7 )
  8.  Therefore let those who suffer according to God’s will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good. (Peter 4:19)
  9. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28)
  10.  Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. (Isaiah: 43:18)
  11. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you: and through rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fires you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you (Isaiah 43:1)

Monday, April 11, 2016

Hopelessly Confused

Warning: This blog post is going to be extremely long. I encourage you to read it, but please please make sure you read this when you are free. 

Wow, so I never actually thought there would be a blog post thirteen this early to be rather honest with you as well as myself. I needed to do a follow up blog on blog post twelve. Remember how I said that this blog might be a way of  tracking my spiritual growth, well it's what I am going to use as now. Maybe in the future I will continue.

So anyway if you have not read my previous blog ( which I do encourage you to), it was totally and completely about love. However my point of view has been shifted again. As some of you who are reading this may or may not know I was at a retreat this past weekend. This retreat has changed my view point on love and perhaps even expanded my previous ideas.

In order for you reader to understand this blog and myself.... we need to take it back to second grade. Yes, I said it second grade.. What happened in second grade? My very first crush. His name was Danny. ( Danny if you ever do read this... Hi!!!). I liked Danny. He was cute... he had the same faith I had?... not a lot to go on here. I knew Danny second to fifth grade in my Catholic school.

So here you are thinking.. that's perfectly normal and cute which it is. It is cute and that age. Unfortunately for me I have continued that pattern of liking guys and in the end it would leave me empty. I bet you're thinking why empty? How could a crush leave you empty?

Because as most girls I am a total hopeless romantic.

I fed qualities into guys just so I would feel that they are perfect and we could be perfect. I would imagine dating them or being with them ( and that may sound creepy). It's like wanting and craving a life long soul mate in a person you like only due to physical attributes.

So like Danny and many other guys as second grade went on it was a cycle. One that I did not see as unhealthy. I thought it was perfectly normal and healthy to like guys in this way or form. Soon I gained the courage to actually speak to my crushes and it became worse because I would heighten their good qualities. I didn't think at the time that I could possibly talk to God or Jesus about matters of my love life.

I would think:God has better things to worry about then Luke not liking you or just tell him what you're thankful for and what you need don't bother God with your feelings on your love life. 

Perhaps I would pray that they would like me back just so like most of my friends I would be in a relationship with a guy who I could trust and have to be there with me. It's increasingly hard to have this constant reminder that you haven't had your first boyfriend or kiss and you're standing and waiting for these incredible things to occur. It's not to say I am jealous or envious just that all my life as unrealistic and cheesy also cliche as it may sound: I want my fairy tale ending. I want to be married. I want the ups and downs. I want kids. Maybe I want the white house with the picket fence. Who knows?

As much as I would love to continue the story on previous past crushes of mine... I need to go to the present.

First year of college. 
Wow, where was my mind back then? Obviously on books. Anyways....I met a guy. Thought he was different. Isn't it how it always begins? He serenaded me with his guitar. It was great. In my heart I knew he wasn't right for me. His carelessness for his grades and how he was constantly with other girls and that's not to say that there is a problem with having female friends. However once I got to know him I understood why he had many female friends. He was charming and seemingly into his faith which was Christian. There aren't a lot of differences between Catholics and Christians. For me, the other guys faith ( the ones I crushed on) was never a big deal to me. I figured that why should it matter if you have different faiths if that person was possibly meant for you. Well, he turned out to not be what I painted him to be.

EVERYONE was telling me this but I did ignore it because in my heart I felt that maybe it could be... especially because for once the feelings were reciprocated and he liked me back. Soon enough however, as I got to get to know him I didn't really want anything to do with him. You're probably wondering why? The truth is one day... my catholic friends from college convinced me to go to this Spirit & Truth. There was this brilliant podcast by Sarah Swafford playing. A lot of things she said stuck out to me. She said the most important word is: Use. Then I realized shortly after that podcast was that he was trying to USE me. ( in the sense that he would ask for my completed work the previous semester) She also said to lay all your insecurities in front of Jesus and that the time will come when you will look next to you and you'll see the person next to you, the one you're meant to be with. I prayed a lot about this person. I wanted to ask God what was his purpose. Why was he in my life? I can tell you that I did receive an  answer. I was closer to the conclusion I am at now but not quite. The answer was: he was a lesson, this boy was in my life to teach me that I can let God know whatever is on my mind whether it be boys or insecurities. I can just lay them all out and trust that he will always listen. BUT... like I said I wasn't quite there.

Shortly after this guy was a part of my life, I met someone new. He was different. No, he was ACTUALLY different. He was into his faith and his family.  So here I go... He is sweet. He is kind. He wasn't using me or anything. I liked him because of the way he was so into his faith. I was just coming back to being at the place I was before ( this will be in a separate post ... someday). So of course I continued to see him. He made me want to be more into my faith. SO maybe as much of a crush as it was it was also a spiritual crush. Then there was this retreat.. it was around the corner. Of course, I asked God once more, why him? Why of all people was this amazing guy in my life? Of course, the pattern was prevalent to the point where I would heighten all his qualities. I started to realize then that it was wrong to like someone in this way because as much as I did like his personality I also liked his appearance. It wasn't until one night in a cabin, in this retreat where I spoke to 2 amazing friends of mine that they helped me come to this conclusion. It's wrong to objectify someone. When we do this we build broken houses with guys that maybe not the ones. By broken house she meant that we picture this ending but we're doing this in the wrong way. By liking someone for their appearance, we're subconsciously doing this. It's mostly by feeding qualities into people to make us think that we have a soulmate. You need to TRUST that God is making your perfect house. Slowly but surely God is setting the foundation for that perfect house. He will give you a soulmate when he feels the time is right. Another reason that a friend of mine brought up was that maybe God presents you with these people because they need prayers. In her example the guy she liked was struggling with his vocation ( which is basically if he should be a priest or get married). So she prayed for him and he chose his vocation to become a priest.  I thank this person that I liked because he made me want to be more into my faith, he made me want to be closer to God. Perhaps, that was his purpose. I pray for him because as I said he is genuinely a good person. He deserves to be happy.


If you tell me about a certain time you've walked into a room of strangers and didn't quite feel as if you were in the right place because everyone had a connection except you; I can right off the bat tell you that's my life. My life for the most part has been a sequence of awkward, good, and bad moments.

It all started in what one of my friends considers the armpit of America, New Jersey. I was placed in a ESL class (standard procedure). I believe this one girl was a bully and just about picked on everyone. It was at the point where she pinched me and of course I pinched back. The teacher sided with me entirely on the fact that I was a brand new student and well the girl didn't have a good track record. However, that was enough to mark me off to the rest of the class.

By the time second grade came along, my mother decided to place me in private school (no, it had nothing to do with the pinching incident). The public school system in the north isn't the best. So imagine this, walking into a classroom full of students who had not only known each other but were wearing uniforms. Then me of course wearing not a uniform. As I walked in the teacher obligated everyone to introduce themselves. So as I introduced myself, I curtsied. I repeat, I curtsied. I still cringe about this. Of course there was a cute boy in my class.

Only in second grade did we have a Valentine's day dance, where of course my mother picked an outfit that day I dreaded and the boy who I thought was cute was a short distance from me. When I ask my mother what I did in that situation, her answer wasn't a shock. I ran in circles around the dance floor.

Anyways needless to say I didn't fit in with the popular bunch in my small and quaint classroom. I was different. I wore Mickey Mouse pins on my private school ties in fourth grade AND although I did cheerleading I would skip because the HIGH SCHOOL coaches made me feel as if I did nothing right. However, this didn't mean I didn't want to fit in. I longed to belong to the trio of girls who sat at the end of our classroom lunch table. I tried. I tried so hard to the point where I was bullied. I was a sensitive child as most only children are. The turning point was when I was told what days I could sit in with this trio of cool girls. It wasn't up until Melissa stood up for me. I sat with other girls who were different. There was one girl who was more alienated than I was and she even sat with us. Harmony and having more than one friend in my class seemed like a literal blessing.

But before I got too comfortable....

My mom decided to move us all to Georgia. Yes, New Jersey to Georgia. It's just as easy for me to tell you I cried the whole way. It felt as if I cried the whole 15 hours. Sure the vacations to Georgia weren't too bad but MOVING. At the time it felt as if it was the end of my world (I was only 10).

Unfortunately for me the public school system here was actually better than New Jersey so I attended public school. Unfortunately for me I didn't have the best wardrobe. I mean I wore a uniform 5 days a week; What can you expect? So there I was huge sweatshirts and sweatpants every single day (Snow in Jersey, not a joke) and coming into a classroom who AGAIN everyone knew each other, the status quo was established and I didn't belong to any of them(At least this time they weren't all in uniform right?) . I slowly got acquainted with everyone and made some friends. I still wanted to be "in". It all seems stupid, you know? Anyways everyone was wearing Justice and of course I had to have Justice and I did. I still didn't fit in. None of this bothered me as much because I had one friend named Amber who became my best friend and I wasn't the only addition to the class.. Also it's worth mentioning the girl who lived next to me, never liked me either although I never exchanged but 2 words with her.

I thought things were looking up for me in middle school but of course, I was wrong. 6th grade I made one of my best friends and we were super close simply because we both had a mutual dislike of the girl in my neighborhood who didn't like me for any reason. Things were looking up for me and my like of Hannah Montana seemed to be a good but rather bad conversation starter. I was known as the girl obsessed with Hannah Montana. My best friend and I shared a similar goal of attempting to fit in but finding ourselves to be unsuccessful. The public school system was not in my favor the status quo established in elementary school carried on into middle school and of course the glorious 4 years of high school. I did the talent show in 6th grade and take a wild guess at what I sang... Hannah Montana (shocker).

7th grade I was still super attached to my best friend and we thought we could conquer the world since we had the same class. The universe however had other plans in store for us both. I was placed in the homeroom with the meanest girl possible and she hated me (again I do not know why).  She gave me a blank piece of paper and called it an invite to her party. She accused both my best friend and I of being lesbians. Of course my mother handled this. I was shy to the point where I didn't stand up for myself and maybe if I did it wouldn't have gotten so bad.

8th grade I embraced the fact I wasn't part of the established food chain. If the food chain in middle school existed I was simply nonexistent. I began to feel misunderstood for some reason or another prompting black eyeliner and Paramore. I was as edgy as it got. I began an ongoing experimentation with makeup, short hair and a straightener. Needless to say it was rather distrastorus. I had friends who were in-between as I was. I began having friends who perhaps were edgier and did things I didn't do but respected that I didn't do those things.

I think throughout my social experimentation I have gathered to never judge anyone. It's okay to be different.
High school to me felt like a turning point, because at the time I still didn't believe elementary and middle school food chains applied to the best four years of your life. I socialized with the less cooler people. If social climbing was a thing, in high school I was still bottom of the ladder. It wasn't until Junior year I found my niche. In 9th grade I befriended a girl named Geo, who after gym disappeared in my life. 11th grade brought us back together through a mutual friend and through Geo I met my group. We all had strict parents, a love for One Direction, and we all were in a way just normal. We weren't totally alienated and we didn't totally fit in. Our group was diverse and filled with laughter.

For once I actually liked being different. 

Senior year was uneventful and it was then that I became okay with who I was. I made friends with a Danish foreign exchange student and I made another close friend that I slowly began to trust more than anyone. I didn't really let popularity get to me. I didn't need a ladder to climb and I didn't need a food chain to be a part of. I was okay with being me. My friends from junior year carried onto senior year and the longest journey seemed to be over. 

College was the literal turning point for me in so many ways.

I walked into a college with amazing friends back home and as a commuter I saw no point in befriending anyone. You're probably wondering how is that a turning point? Well I didn't try to make friends, it just happened. One day I was somewhat early to class and sat in between Kim and Maria. I began to become fully happy with who I was and this has led me into the most amazing and transforming phase in my life. I love who I'm becoming. I love the people I surround myself with and the constant laughter provided through much needed times. College is the point in life where you learn to embrace your differences and find people who are just as different and if not even more different than you are.