i love us

Have you ever been in love?
I was tending to the flowers my home teachers gave me for Valentine's Day when my roommate asks me this deeply personal question. After deep reflection and a quick mental screening of (500) Days of Summer, I said no.

(Side note, I have a testimony of (500) Days of Summer. I trust this movie and it has given me every bit of knowledge I will ever need when it comes to dating. I promise this will answer all questions to all problems. Promise.)

Still from (500) Days of Summer. Shared interests does not
soulmates make.

Loving someone is a choice. You choose to love someone; you choose to stay with them. With 7 billion people on this earth and counting, it's not reasonable to believe in a soulmate. In the end, you just pick the person you hate the least. It's not technically settling, but it's deciding to stay with the one person. 

But being in love? That takes two. I can love my cat (I definitely do) and I can love my plants. I can love my family and I can love my car and coworkers. But being in love? You have to love them and they have to love you. Unrequited love is only love; it's not being in love. I've never had anyone love me or love me long enough or truly love me at all. And I'm okay with it.
It's not just because I am used to it or that I've had my heart broken enough to swear off trying. I'm not trying to prove a point to the family members who make it a point to make you feel less.

   "Are you going on a mission???"
   "No, it's not in His plan for me."
   "So, are you getting married???"

Still from (500) Days of Summer.

Side note. You are not less just because you take your sweet time in settling down. You are enough without immediately finding someone who actually likes you. I promise you are doing just fine.

Now before you say, "Oh, you're so young! Don't even worry about getting married. Just live your life! You're so young!" Age has nothing to do with it. Remember the culture I live in. Most of my friends are married and they're younger than me. I've never tasted love. I'm not the girl men choose. I'm not the girl they love. For all I know, love doesn't exist. It's just a fantasy.

I'm okay with not having love yet. There are days when this is harder to swallow than others. I have to scream to myself "there's a lid to every pot." This time, right now, is the only chance I'll have to entirely focus on myself to ensure I am my best person. I have every chance to become the person I want to be. I have been able to discover and improve talents. I can travel the world without the expense of paying for another person. When the lucky fella comes along, I'll actually be ready. I won't be the mess I once was. I'll be strong alone.

Still from  (500) Days of Summer.
I don't want to regret getting married after
getting married.

My biggest fear is forcing love. I am terrified of setting so quick that I end up marrying someone I don't truly love. This is a nightmare I have once every few months. I get married in a dress I hate to someone I don't love. I normally get married due to the pressure of those around me. I don't get married in the temple. The last time I had this nightmare, the ring ceremony happened right after the administration of the sacrament and between testimony meeting. So trust me when I say, I will take my sweet time to grow into love and continue to be empowered and strong without him.

My favorite example of this that I tell to those who are going through relationship struggles and just want to be around their SigOth always but the SigOth just wants some space, is from Grey's Anatomy.

McDreamy is heartbroken had just had a rough season and he says to Meredith,
"I can't live without you."
            "I can live without you, but I don't want to. I don't want to ever have to."

Same, Meredith.

Still from (500) Days of Summer. We all have our own
Ringo Starrs.

This time I have to be alone and be single is my chance to make sure I will always be okay when I am alone. When the times comes around, I'll find the guy (he's probably stuck in a tree or something) and be strong even when he isn't around.

The tricky part about him showing up as I keep growing up and become solidified in who I am, the person I need in my life is semi-specific. He needs to have the same goals in the church that I do. Getting married in the temple and raising a family centered on Christ is one of the most important things to me. He needs to be able to run with me on my crazy ideas and roll with me as I deal with stuff. He needs to be able to handle watching awful movies. I love them because everyone else hates them. Sharknado? One of my favorite films. He needs to be kind and has to be strong by himself as well. I can't raise an adult. He needs to love me. That matters, I guess.

So have I ever been in love? I'm in love with the love I'll get to have. I'm in love with the chances I get to take in the meantime. By the time he shows up, I'll be ready. I've been ready. We are going to have some stories to tell.

a month in the life

I've been in my new apartment for only a month and have been in school for the new semester even less. I live at work and in my car; the apartment is reserved for sleep, when permitted. No one really warns one, truly, of the exhaustion taken as a side effect when balancing full time work and school. I've been doing a full 40 hours every week at work doing a job that I do well but am underappreciated while doing a minimum of 12 credit hours.
I used to know what I was studying. I was an art history major, going into curator studies, hoping to own and design my own museum with the kind of pieces that would inspire people to learn. It would be fun, fresh, and exciting. However, now that Alexa is engaged, I've been helping with her wedding; it turns out I'm good at planning weddings. I am trying to choose between being a wedding planner and a museum curator. One works with people and one works with things. Depending on the day, one job feels preferred over the other.
The Roommates are nice, though. It's been tricky trying to find my place living there; the pecking order isn't established and everyone does their own thing. It's interesting to watch everyone interact, though. Being here only a month, I still consider them strangers but they watch movies with me and we make brownies together.
Family and politics shouldn't mix. As a rule, I feel families should keep their political views secret and just talk about the weather, at least if you're an extremist. I hope that I am solidly in the middle; I've picked what I like out of each political party (much to my chagrin) and I act on that. It's focusing not on the party but on what I believe will genuinely be the best for America, the people, and the future. The present is eternally temporary. I want to consistently be using the present as a stepping stone in order to create a better future. Right now, I believe that we are not okay. There are a lot of things going wrong and a lot to fix-which is exciting!
The Women's March the other weekend was inspiring; it brought me to tears in the middle of a Macy's store. I might not support everything that was done or the way things were exhibited by each participant of the march, but I believe in the cause. Family members of mine disagreed. A blanket statement was given to the women, calling them "nasty," a name that President Trump gave them. A close family member made a statement on their social media, stating these "nasty women had better plan to be single for a long time" "who wants to marry a nasty . . . woman?" This was disheartening. If it weren't for a car accident I had the week previous, I would have marched.
I couldn't stay silent. I had to say something. I sent a text to this family member of mine, explaining the purpose of the march. This march is for fighting violence, reproductive rights, LGBT rights, worker's rights, civil rights, disability rights, immigrants' rights, and environmental rights. If wanting everyone and everything to be treated properly made me a nasty woman, then I would take it. If wanting these reasons was the reason I was single and have been my entire life, then fine. I accept.
They tried to fight back, by saying their post isn't about me and that if anyone hurt me, they would fight back in my name. But in the end, I had to let this person know that if I wasn't their daughter, they wouldn't care and wouldn't feel this way. If a blanket statement is placed on people, you can't decide who is in your Ven Diagram. "Family members are okay, but everyone else is damned to hell." It's been a lonely week but I know that believing and fighting for the cause is worth it and so much good can be done from it.
Overall, it's been okay and I'm doing fine. I say "I'm fine" like a broken record without a change in tone. It's hard to tell if I feel the way I do simply because I'm tired or because of the chaos the world provides. Regardless, I've had to take a step back from doing things I normally enjoy doing so I can make sure I am doing okay and I am managing everything the way I should. Between school, work, and depression, it's been a fight that I plan to win. There's a whole world out there and a lot of things that need fixing. I'm going to step to and make my mark. Who knows? Maybe I can make a difference.

cookie sheets

Breathe. C'mon, just breathe. You'll be just fine. It won't be that bad. You'll be fine. It's fine. You're going to be fine.

This is my mantra and motto. It's almost Hakuna Matata, the way I force myself to believe there are no worries when I believe there are a million and a half things to worry about.
.
I just moved into a new apartment. I needed a new start some place closer to the freeway. It is almost cheaper than my last home and nicer too. I've been "moved in" for about a week and a half and I've only met one roommate and I am terrified. There are two more left and I don't know anything about any of them. I've been so scared to actually live here that I have only stayed the night once out of the 10 days of rent.

I found every reason to not actually stay night and they have almost been plausible. There was the holiday and the weather. It was holiday break and that meant no school; I might as well stay with my family, who lives closer to my work. I claimed bridal showers and temple nights and hair cuts. I had to move in and live here some time.

On the night I finally decided I would stay, I made pizza. There's nothing like pizza that can almost make you feel like home. Alexa and her fiance came down from the above apartment to join me. We watched a movie at her place. It was 10 o'clock when the movie ended and I began to shake. I was having flashbacks of my freshman semester.

I had borrowed a cookie sheet when everyone was away on Fall Break. It wasn't mine but I figured if I would wash it and put it back, it would be a problem. Cookie Sheet Owner came home early to see me removing food from the sheet. In a panic, I fell silent. She stared at me and went into her room. I figured everything would be fine. 
In the day that passed, she created her battalion and rested her voice for the true assault. Her comrade-in-arms had come home to find a dish had been chipped. I did her dishes, hoping it would finally make her happy, but it had fallen off the counter. They had sentenced me to hell. 
With the door open, they began to yell at me. They screamed about how I was to ask before using something and how dare I break her plate and everyone outside fell silent to listen. When they had let it all out, I left the apartment and went to my "boyfriend's" place. 
He had been cheating on me and I had been letting him. He blamed me for my disease that made it hard to walk as well as putting me in almost constant pain. He told me I couldn't complain because at least it wasn't ALS.

I couldn't let it happen again. I broke down in Alexa's apartment and began to cry. Anxiety is the worst and it's awful with medication (I've been told) and I know by personal experience, it's almost unlivable without. But it's fine. I'm going to be fine. I'll be fine.

My people were supposed to be coming over. They were going to stay until they knew I was well and I didn't think it was too much to ask. They knew how anxious I was about the entire thing and wanted me to feel safe; we're all supposed to be there for each other.

They never came.

I learned how to cope by myself. I don't need anyone anyway. I sat in my bed covered by the 7 insanely soft blankets I own, waiting for sleep to hit, when the one roommate I've met came home. She thought I was another roommate and burst into the room, ecstatic.

Albeit disappointed, she stuck around to ask how I was and how I've spent my time not at the apartment. When the formalities ended, she invited me to watch Gilmore Girls with her. I love Gilmore Girls and I finished the entire series last week, A Year in the Life and all.

My roommate is fine and friendly. She's mature and I don't think she'll be yelling at me about cookie sheets anyway.

Who yells about cookie sheets anyway?

Sophomore-Ish

I was once a freshman in college, moved out on my own for the first time. I was so used to living with my family, who knew how I lived my life, it was a shock to live with those who didn't understand how or why I did what I did. I made food to make friends (and to seduce boys). I dated boys I shouldn't have and dated boys who deserved so much more. I began to experience such poor health, I spent more time in doctor's offices than my own classes. I had the "best of times, and the worst of times." It felt like freshman year was eternal and fantastic, dreaded and horrid, everything life should be.
And then freshman year ended. I was dirt poor, despite working two jobs during my time at Utah State, with barely enough money to pay bills, let alone cover tuition. To my chagrin, I dropped out of school to take the summer and a semester off to work full-time.
When I started school again the winter of 2016 at Utah Valley University, I felt I had settled in life. I was living at home again, going to what felt like "just a community college," waiting for life to happen. My health issues, still present, but under control, let loose another monster. Cue Anxiety. I learned to get that under control, if anyone ever really could. At the end of winter semester, I vowed never to live at home again.
I submitted my application to live in an apartment in Provo, despite working in American Fork and going to school in Orem. It was cheap housing and I really don't need much. I ended up in the same complex that two of my aunts had previously lived in before and the exact same room my best friend lived in just the year before. I was called to this area by a legacy.
In my application, I begged for older roommates, around my age. I wanted fun girls with no drama to bring to the table. I didn't need the destructive comments and snide remarks that added to my failing health my freshman year. I begged in my prayers to let the girls be chill and wonderful and kind.
Move in day. I was terrified and came to the realization that if we didn't get along, I would be at work and school anyway, since I would be attending both full time. I had nothing to really fear, right? But let's remember the nightmare I had about the tampons and the roommate with crazy eyes, seeking me out so I would put away my still-wet dishes and the nice roommate who wouldn't speak up when I was being torn down. I doused my fears with denial and put my best foot forward.
As I met my roommates throughout the day, they all ended up being out-of-state freshman; they had just graduated in May. I was rooming with apparent children, kids who had never been on their own. I was them, once.
Fast forward a month. We have frequent roommate dinners and laugh about YouTube videos together. These girls are fantastic and wonderful. We cry together and joke together. My pleading in prayer was not ignored. How lucky I am to have these wonderful humans in my life. We have a good life to look forward to.

Resolutions

I look out the window and expect to see immediate grassy fields and flowers littering the ground. Instead, I see a small glimmer of light so faint and far away that I have to squint in order to see anything at all. It appears to be a trick, this light, so I close the curtains and tug on the chain that turns on the light. This artificial light displays the room around me in a harsh, shiny pretense. Large, crude brick surrounds me on the floor and walls. The only things inside this room are the things necessary for me to survive.
Outside of this room, past the endless brick, is a moat filled with water so dense, some have drowned just from looking at it. If the water won't seize the trespassers, the alligators will. All of the standards moats keep an alligator or two around, anyways. Further, past the moat, the tower is surrounded by brambles and thorns oozing with poison. This poison doesn't kill people; it kills hope. If these do not convince someone to turn around and walk away, the dragon will. How did I end up here?
I put myself here. I grew the thorns and brambles to keep others away. I surrounded myself with water to keep me away from others. I built this tower to convince myself I was find. The dragon is a creation of fear and threat meant to keep me safe so I can piece myself back together. I built the tower because I had been hurt. My trust had been broken and shattered and hopes torn apart. I spend months in my tower hoping for hope, waiting to be saved when the only person who could save me was in the tower I built: me.
I wanted someone to overcome the brambles and thorns and make their away across the moat while conquering a dragon. I wanted someone to come to the tower and take me away from this despicable building created out of fear; I wanted someone to come to a building where there were no windows and no doors. My expectations is the stuff of hoax. All I am truly doing is successfully keeping others away. If I want to be saved, I have to take down the walls I built myself. I have to fill in the moat, pour pesticide on the brambles and thorns, and conquer the dragon. I have to be open to pain and fear and regret and rejection. I have to be open to hope and kindness and goodness and love.
In 2016, I am tearing down my walls and welcoming reality; I'm not the kind of princess who simply waits to be saved.