you were good to me

My little brother sent me this song super late last night. And I stared at my white ceiling listening to it. It brought a lot of things back.

All these little moments where I felt like someone was good to me came loose, and the lyrics spoke to me.

Leaving people behind in your life is gut wrenching. Pushing people behind you that once made you feel whole.

I feel like this song hits all of those feelings. 

"Leaving, isn't better than trying

Growing, but I'm just growing tired"

I remember feeling guilty leaving relationships because I felt that I could have tried harder to make them work. But I am...growing tired of leaving people.....and being left.

There's a growing fear, that because so much hasn't worked out, that it never will. (never thought I would say that as a twenty year old)

"Now I'm worried for my soul

And I'm still scared of growing old
You were good to me
You were good to me, yeah
And I'm so used to letting go
But I don't wanna be alone
You were good to me"

A fear that maybe all the times I left someone....I could have tried harder and it would have worked.

Maybe I am the one at fault all this time.

I am sure I am not the only one that has felt this way. 

Love sucks.

Some people just get it easy, it just comes to them the first try.

and some people have to struggle through it.

I have decided that I am one of many that was meant to struggle with dating and love. It wasn't meant to come easy for me and instead of being upset about it I need to be grateful. 

I often think of the quote "I am thankful for my struggle, because without it, I wouldn't have stumbled across my strength." My trials have made me strong, and molded me closer to the person I truly am. 

Every guy I have gone through has reminded me what I loved about myself, and what I don't love.

Maybe every person I date from now on is a stepping stone to the person I truly am, and the person I will spend the rest of my life with. 

Just because they were good to me, doesn't mean they were made for me.

God has bigger plans for me.

Until next time...

Triple Beam Balances

I feel like we all go through those times where you just hit a week of crumbyness.

This is my week.

Boston marathon times got raised, my brother dislocated his hand, forgot to turn in a homework assignment (this is the end of the world for me), spring break ended, got friend zoned, got my scholarship application rejected because I didn't fill out 1 box, I have laundry that needs folding, my room is a mess, I have been living off nothing for two days because I have had no time to get groceries.....I am just emotionally wasted.

After I cried to my mom 6 times over the span of 2 days, I said a prayer to God in hopes that it would get better.

I don't understand why bad things have to happen one after another. 

I laid on my bed this afternoon about as frustrated as I could be. I stared at the ceiling, and tears welled in my eyes.

As I laid there, I heard arguing from my roommate next door. 

*sidenote* no I am not a snoop, it was very loud

She was yelling at her mom.

I don't know, I think we all have those moments in our life where we snap like a glow stick and realize that we screwed up.

I quickly found myself on my knees next to my bed, my hands together, and I said my second prayer today.

"Dear Heavenly Father,"

"I take it all back. It is better. You don't need to make it better, you don't need to put things in place for me. Can you just keep it the same?"

"I love my mom and she loves me, and she is my best friend. I love my daddy, I love my sisters and my brother. And I would rather die than for you to take them away from me."

"Thank you for all the things you've done right, I love you God."

I walked home from work tonight and the A was just shining as bright as I have ever seen it.

I analyzed my life on this walk. 

I thought about the worst thing I had been through. My worst trial in the world. As soon as I thought about it, I found myself pitying myself. Telling myself that I had been through something terrible, and that it makes me deserving of something better.

But this isn't true. 

I am a firm believer that a lot of us think this way. We take some of our hardest times in life and let them devour us whole. We cry about them, worry about, lose sleep over them, and we pity ourselves.

I decided today that instead of focusing on the 1 thing that pulled me under, to focus on the ten things that kept me afloat during that time.

I realized on my walk home that every bad in this world is outweighed.

Remember those triple beam balances in jr high science class that you use to measure things?

Well....you put the thing you are trying to measure on one side, and your weight measurements on the other and you use those weight measurements to find the right measurement. 

This is how are hard times work.

As I was busy being upset about the Boston qualifying times changing (my 1 lb burden), I failed to see the weight measurements that were evening out that burden.

6 ounces - My mom was there to hear me cry over the phone. To tell me it will all work out. I am grateful to have a mom that I love, one that I can trust, and one that is my best friend.

4 ounces - As I am sitting in my office, my Logan mom and Sarah walk in to give me a laugh. I have a job I love. I have coworkers that care so much about me. That pick me up, give me advice, and would break their backs to make my day better.

2 ounces - USU. Doesn't take much to walk the campus of USU and realize how lucky I am to be able to go to college. I have a family here. I love my Logan life. I love my home.

2 ounces - Health. I am not sick. I am not confined to a wheelchair or a hospital bed. I can be completely independent, and I am lucky to say that.

2 ounces - The gym. This sounds completely cliche. But if you know me, the ARC is my place of comfort, and I am so grateful to have somewhere to go to take out all the pain I may be experiencing. Some people don't have places that make them feel this way. I am grateful.

So yes. These past two days have been full of tough times. But how these rough times will effect me is all determined by which side of the balance I look at.

Sleeping in the Stars

On October 24th, I was told my grandma had only two weeks to live. It came as a complete shock to my entire family; kidney failure, a tumor the size of shoe box, and a heart three times too big. My grandma has always been healthy...and that she has been that way since I have known her.

But she shocked us, the last two months of her life was a roller coaster, as she continued to exceed any expectation that was set for her. She's a fighter, yet shows no signs of it.

Grandma,

Oh how I can still just hear your voice. I can feel your body crushing hugs and the sound your shoes made when they scooted across our hardwood floor. It doesn't feel like your gone.

I miss the popsicles we ate on your back porch, that big swing you had in front of your house, I miss your hidden mints, and your stinky fish pond you made me clean. I miss you teaching us to cross stitch those ugly kitten patterns, I miss your love for the cabin.

I was right there with you your last moments, and I just hope and pray that you knew it.

You taught me how to work hard, and that hard work was uncomfortable. I remember the task of cleaning the fish pond.....we always thought you were punishing us by making us clean it. I remember telling you "IT STINKS!" and you just said "Oh, it's not that bad!" I know you didn't enjoy the smell either, but not once did you make that obvious. You were ALWAYS happy, I think that you had unhappy moments, but you were so good at convincing yourself that they were happy.

I miss going to church with you. You loved to sing, and you were so good at it. One day I was sitting in the pew with you, and you snuck me a sucker and taught me how to conduct from the back of the hymn book. (No I am not good at being a chorister....your funeral was a prime example of that). My most vivid memories of you were spent at church. You wanted more than anything to make us better, you wanted us to love God as much as you did. Until the day you died, you stood by your beliefs.  I hope he has his arm around you right now.

I miss sitting in your front room and just talking with you. We snuck lifesaver mints from your tin jars. You would hide them from us for your own entertainment. The common theme of our conversations was "Are you dating anyone yet?' You wanted us to find love and be happy so much.

I miss your love for Utah State. You would tell me about being in the honor college and being a resident's assistant for the honors dorms. And you were a teacher.....just like me. I walk this campus now and I feel you...everywhere. This is where you found what you loved to do. My heart is full knowing that I am following in your footsteps. What an example you are.

On your last day, you were still you. You were a fighter. I remember when my mom left the room for just 5 minutes and I just sat there with you and held your hand. Those same hands that taught me to sew, to garden, that reached to give me a hug, those hands once held my daddy when he took his first breath. How I didn't want to let them go.

Grandma, you were the beginning of a legacy. And this legacy will live on.

I was LUCKY to be your granddaughter. You brought me here. My middle name is yours too. You are the reason I am who I am today. My kids will know about you.

I'm going to finish that cabin, and I promise I will keep it there. I promise.

I hope you never forget how much I love you.

Love,

Your Little Rabbit.

Reopening

Our first trip out boating every year we go in May. For those who don't go boating often, during May, the water is still prettyyy darn cold.

As soon as we push out the boat, the four of us kids sit on the edge dipping our toes in to see if its cold. Some of us throwing on our wet suits (*cough* Katie and Ethan). 

My dad will get us out in the middle of the lake and then yell "who's in first?" We all look at one another and play this game of "Ethan you go first, Jerra you go first" as we stand on the edge of the boat peering into the ice water.

It takes about 10 minutes for one of us to jump in first, but quickly we all follow suit afterwards.

As the season goes on, the shorter the time it takes for us to jump in. It goes from 10 minutes, to 7 minutes, to 5, to jumping out of the boat before the engine is even turned off. 

As I sat in 10 degree weather this morning waiting for the bus to come, I couldn't help but think of boating. How so badly I wanted to be on a freaking boat instead of freezing like a popsicle.

But as that thought was passing, another one was running parallel to it. 

Opening up my heart again. 
I'm scared out of my mind that I am going to continue to get hurt the more I do it.

So you know me,

I had to make a comparison of the both of these thoughts.

Instantly I could see how my heart easily compared to the way the 4 of us are afraid of the cold water. 

Recently I got to the point where I didn't think I could handle ever opening up myself to anyone...ever again.

Here I am, standing on the edge of the boat, slowly dipping in my toes and its cold. That fear comes on just by dipping my toe in. It all comes flooding back. "What if I get hurt again? Am I sure about this?"  It's hard to jump in when you know what the water may feel like.

I look back at my family and maybe some friends, and they all tell me to jump...but I am scared.

After 10 minutes of telling myself it will be okay, (aka much longer in reality) I gain the courage to jump. I panic as the cold water hits hard...but I come right back up. And I realize it wasn't so bad after all.

It gets easier and easier every time you jump. You jump off quicker and quicker until it's just second nature.

So don't let the cold water scare you from opening up.

Oldie but a Goodie

Highlight Reel

My whole life I have been taught to never hold a grudge against people.  When we were little, my mom said over and over "two wrongs don't make a right". (I can hear her say it as I type) With this mindset, I learned that there was never someone who really hurt me bad enough to dislike them.

Years pass, and I hit a wall, a wall of people. People that lied to me, hurt me, and then left me in the dark. I felt the need to speak up about how hurt I was. That maybe if I told everyone how much I was hurt that it would solve the problem.

But I didn't. I had to be the better person. I wasn't going to make their lives worse because my own was hard.

So I held it in. Like my parents had taught me too my entire life.

It was rough. I am sure most people have had to experience it in their lifetime to an extent. Having to be positive towards someone that hurt you. It was hard, but I did it and I am proud of myself. Through the hard times, I fought my battles on my own.

But the longer I held it in, the worse I felt when their name popped up.

(warning: here comes the selfishness)

I don't see them much anymore, but I felt as if they were being put on a pedestal. Everyone would tell me how much they loved them, all of the people that never had to experience what I did. I wanted to respond by saying "are you sure?". Now don't get me wrong, they were good to me for many years, but I am still hurt. There's only so many bridges you can burn before there's no place to cross anymore, and I have reached that point with them.

I was on a drive with my mom and I brought it up to her.

"Mom, how can someone who hurt me so bad walk away like it was nothing?"
"Mom, I was the one that was hurt, and all that anyone cares about is them"

It all came flooding out with some tears and I felt as if I am being selfish. I don't wish hardship on anyone. But for once, I wanted people to see the truth.

My mom is a remarkable woman. She always seems to have the greatest answers to life's most pressing questions.

Katie has this quote she made hanging in our house that reads:

"The reason why we struggle with insecurity is because we compare our behind the scenes with everyone else's highlight reel."

I never really took the meaning from it until my mom mentioned it.

"What you are seeing is but a sliver of their lives, their highlight reel. Anyone can have a good highlight reel, but what about the rest of the movie?"

It hit me then and there that I was being ridiculous.

The conversation changed the subject right after. But my thoughts kept rolling.

What would my highlight reel look like? What would be on it?

It was overwhelmingly full. Full of good times and bad ones, and everything in between.
Maybe my highlight reel was longer than 3 minutes, maybe it was 20 years.

I realized that I needed to push these thoughts behind me, and soak up what was right in front of me.

Forget about their highlight reel, because my entire movie is breathtaking. They may have a short highlight film, but I have an entire movie.

Today I set a goal for myself.

From now on, I will make everyday good enough to be part of my highlight reel.

 

Lidia, Kate, Britt, and HP

I write this post with a heavy heart.

In two days, I will leave Logan for the summer. This should be an exciting thing, I am out of school, I get to live at home with my family. We get to boat, camp, run, and be out in the sun. But right now, my heart is stuck on Logan.

Last year, the second I moved out on my own for the first time, it didn't necessarily feel right. I moved in with a bunch of girls that didn't understand me. They didn't know what I was going through. None of them were my age, and none of us were on the same page.

Last year, I was alone with a broken heart, in an apartment full of girls that didn't care for me.

I told myself coming into this year to not set low expectations on roommates. I went into a random apartment with hopes that they wouldn't be worse than the ones before.

I will never forget walking into the landlord's office to grab the keys to our apartment. I ran into a girl named Hannah. Little did I know, I would travel across the world with this girl 6 months later.

I wake up to loud obnoxious singing coming from the room across from me on the first day of school, and I remember saying "This is going to be a long year."

They worked their way into my heart, and now each and every one of them are family.

They took this broken heart and made it full again.

Many times during this school year, on the brink of tears, and we asked each other how we all got put in the same apartment at the same time. The five of us were a match made in heaven.

I have had many friends throughout my life, many close friends from high school. But I lost a lot of my closest friends in high school, and never did I think I'd ever find friends as close as the ones I had.

But these girls gave me the piece of high school that I missed out on.

Most of my three years of high school were spent obsessing over a boy. To this day, I actually don't remember spending any quality time with my friends. But, this entire year, I felt like a 16 year old again. These four girls reminded me what is was like to have four best friends again. Four people that care about me just as much as my parents do.

We threw sleepovers on the front room floor, had dance lessons in the kitchen, put together dinners and invited the entire ward, laid in the hall at 3 AM and had deep conversations about life, we even took a service trip to Guatemala.

Who needs a guy in their life when you have friends like these?

This is a life I feel I could live forever.

They know my darkest secrets, they've heard my hardest stories, and they've seen me and my best, and my worst. I hope that one day we will all sit down when we have families of our own and laugh about the crazy times we had these past nine months.

I'm lucky enough to have two of them next year, but the other two are moving on to bigger and better.

I love you guys so much!
Here's to having four forever friends.

Guatemala

As most of the people who would read this would know, I recently spent my spring break in Antigua, Guatemala. It was easily one of the most life-altering times of my life.

Back in November, I was sitting in my office when Hannah burst in my doors to tell me about a trip to Guatemala she just got accepted into. She asked me to apply, and I looked her like she was crazy. A foreign country?  All by myself?

Next thing I know I am hugging my mom in Ogden airport, chocked up, boarding the plane to LAX for the first time on my own.

I flew into LAX and thankfully had Hannah with me to board my next flight to Guatemala. We got to Guatemala City, where a large amount of uncertainty set in real quick. That first day came a huge wave of shock that I wasn't in Utah anymore. I was really apprehensive if I wanted to stay all ten days or not.

Being to a foreign country really changes your perspective on the world.

You hear all the time about the kids in Africa that are going hungry. You see their dirty faces on a lit screen, with people voicing over how a donation could help them. But nothing could have prepared me for this.

What they don't tell you on TV is the happiness that these people just carry with them. How smart these people are, how innovative they are, and how much they love life.

Many in the U.S. will be quick to say that these people need help, they don't. They need change.

I watched a kid lift his shirt, and his back was covered with scars from a parasite. I watched waste get thrown in the middle of a road. An old woman tried to sell me a scarf for less than a dollar so that she could feed herself. A mother feed her child under cooked chicken, and parents feed their children before they fed themselves.

I thought to myself "How are these people happy? They have nothing compared to what I have."

They find happiness in the smallest of things.

I sorted beans with a woman that sang the entire time, joked with me about boys, and we laughed until we cried. What was she doing again? Sorting coffee beans.

A 14 year old boy named Amos told me that he enjoyed working on a coffee plantation. He looked forward to it daily.  How old was he? 14 years old.

I laid in bed at night, and for the first time in my life I could see the millions of little reasons that I could be happy.

You don't have to have it all to have it all.

Having each other was all these people needed.

The day I had to leave Guatemala was miserable. I had slowly been shoving my bag full in preparation, but when I had to zip it up I lost it. I contemplated extending my flight.

I wanted to live in this world a little longer. Take it all in 15 more times. I wanted to play soccer with the little boys on the street for one more game. Learn how to throw tops in the market with the little boys. Pick coffee beans with Amos. Run up Pacaya with the locals. Sort coffee beans with Karina. Tour with the infamous Carlos. I wanted to hear Jose's rusty laugh one last time followed by his crooked grin.

I wanted to live with all the people that were grateful for everything they had just a little bit longer.

I thought I wouldn't miss the cold "electric" showers. The beans, rice, and tortillas we ate twice a day. The smell of raw sewage. But right now, I'd go back in a heart beat.

Guatemala will always have a special place in my heart.


To the Guatemalans that changed my life,

I promise I won't forget about you.

Sincerely,

The Blonde Gringo

My Journey: