the importance of mothers

Since the first Mother’s Day without my mother, I believed year after year that it would be easier to get through. But now that I am starting to understand aspects of my life and realizing how bad I am at this adult thing, it’s been getting increasingly difficult to keep it together. At this point I believe everyone is well aware about my mother, but for those who are new to my blog and my life, let me give you a run-down.

This is my mother. My Mom passed away from stage four lung cancer in 2009 after a three-month battle. From what I remember of her, [insert disclaimer about a swear word here], my Mom was badass. That is the one and only word I can use to describe how fearless, tough, and how well-respected she was. She was the only woman I know who could keep my Dad in line. She was the only woman I know who shaved her legs every single day. I remember most of her morning routine, her good morning greeting to me, how she likes her coffee, and how she loved French manicures.

My mother passed away very early in my middle school years, and right before puberty struck me like a brick. (What a coincidence). My grandma and I have had a close relationship since I was very young. My grandma taught me almost everything I needed to know about becoming a woman. She taught me how to cook, bought my siblings and I clothes for school, took me to get haircuts, and loved me both as a grandma and as a mother. My grandma has continuously shown an incredible amount of support throughout the years and is one of the only women who can make me cry just talking about her casually. She was there for me when I needed a mother the most and even when I wasn’t able to see her as much as I used to through my high school years.

Taking a snip of my testimony, my sister Logan, who started off as one of my best friends, was who brought me both to Jesus and my second family. At the time, I declared myself as an atheist, I was depressed, suicidal, and lost. The Neubeckers took me in at a time when I was the most vulnerable, weak, and was hopeless. Through them, I renewed my faith in Christ, found my purpose and my calling, and gained both a mother and a mentor.

If you ever hear me talk about my Mom, I am referring to her at least 83% of the time. She doubles as a mentor to my life and, like my grandma, has taught me how to be a woman. Through her, I’ve learned character and how to stand my ground. She has motivated me through my high school years and has played a big part in my upbringing and success. I’ve learned through her that it’s okay to cry, I’ve started to open up about the parts of me and the emotions I have that I was told all of my life to hide. My Mom has taught me to love in the ways I couldn’t love in the past. That is one of the biggest things my Mom has helped me do.

2012-02-18 22.35.39

While I wish my biological mother was here to have helped me transition as a teenager, graduate high school and move to college, and beat up everyone who has stepped in my way, I am so thankful for all my grandma has done for me and the Mom that God has put in my life for a specific purpose. Let me say this again: God gave me a Mom for a reason. Shawny was meant to be in my life for a reason. Calling Shawny my Mom does not replace the hurt or the memories of my mother. You can’t replace mothers, butt its not shameful to call a woman who has helped shaped you, inspires and motivates you, and cares for you a mother. I call Shawny my Mom proudly. I know that my Mom, despite those who try to tell me my mom would “beat me” for calling someone else Mom, is so thankful for Shawny stepping in when I needed a mother most. My Mom understands the purpose God has for Shawny in my life because my Mom is closer to God than any of us are.


Time after time, I’ve been shamed for calling someone other than my biological mother my Mom. My friends have trashed their mothers right before my eyes and through social media. These experiences, along with what I’ve learned through my purpose and understanding why I was chosen to face the things I have, have shown me why mothers are so important, whether you get along with them or not. I’ve been told that I don’t need a mother even as an adult. In one way or another, my mother(s) have pushed me to where I am today. They understand me, allow me to express how I feel, and open their arms to me willingly. Mothers, along with woman figures who represent mothers to others, deserve to be treated with respect. I will never take my grandma or my Mom for granted because they understand me when my Dad doesn’t. They love me in ways my Dad can’t.

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While some may take that statement as a diss on the Dads who play both Mom and Dad, it’s not because my Dad is just that. But, because of my childhood and my experiences, there are places in my heart my Dad can’t reach. There are things that we don’t understand about one another even after 18 years. I’m thankful for what my Dad has done for me and I don’t take any of that for granted, but there is a difference in viewpoints between the both of us that have made us clash heads throughout the years. But both my grandma and my mom have been helping me to learn to understand my Dad and work to rekindle the relationship between us. If you asked me in 2012 if I loved my Dad, I would’ve said helllll noooo. Even to this day there is some restraint to saying I love my Dad, but I’m still going to say it. I LOVE MY DAD. I love my Dad so much that even though we butt heads, even though he has hurt my heart in ways that its hard for most to understand, I am determined to have a better relationship with him. He’s done all that he can as a single parent, and I give him mad respect for that.

Mothers are powerful. Women in general are powerful people. Please please please don’t forget to tell the women in your life how thankful you are for them, both the current and soon-to-be mothers. Birth or adopted. Your friend’s mom or the woman from the gas station that’s a mother. And for the Dads who are Mom and Dad, (and my own), this one is for you too .Thank you.

Even on a special day like this, have faith, and know hope.



these hands / miracles

In the past year, these hands have wiped many tears from my face, held razors between their fingers, been clenched to either resist urges to relapse or to collide with my flesh (or an easier way to say that-to relapse), have been covered in dirt one too many times from falling off my skateboard, have gotten me out of bed and through the days I didn’t want to, have embraced many and pushed away many, and have written one sad poem after another.

But today, these hands give God praise. Four days before the beginning of finals week and hours after a successful meeting with my success coach, an unexpected obstacle (and for now private for the time being) had approached me head-on, putting me under much stress, pressure, hurt, and exposed. I lost all focus for finals week, cried many times in public from my fears of failing my finals sitting right in front of me in information I could not recollect because of the aftermath of this particular experience, could no longer be in my dorm for long periods of time, and felt completely hopeless.

In order to keep my merit scholarship, I needed to have a cumulative GPA of 3.25. Just last semester I barely made the mark with a 3.27. With the grades I was holding in my classes this semester and how I expected my finals to go, I needed a real miracle to either match my GPA from the fall or to raise it even higher. Two days before finals, I truly had believed that it was better for me to just end it all rather than be stuck between being the victim and also the “abuser” and take the shame of losing my scholarship home with me (though I and many others knew that I could easily get my scholarship appealed, I still felt ashamed that I even had to consider that route). This was a battle I could not fight alone.

These hands had to give these problems and frustrations to God. They were just not strong enough to hold the weights of the world. As my final grades were coming in, it became harder to trust. I was fearful that though the grades I was getting were pretty good for such a short notice event to occur in my life that I wouldn’t make that mark. But I literally told God that though I didn’t want to trust him that I was going to because He has never failed me, nor will He ever. The past few days I had been waiting for one more grade to be put in to find out my overall GPA. Last night…well…I’ll let the photo speak for itself.

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Now if you think that’s a miracle, let me give you a little bit of a background on how those grades came to be. The classes I was most fearful of were law and graphic design (which both go towards my minors, how ironic). Talking with my success coach about how I felt my grades were gonna turn out, I had no hope of changing my law grade from a C to at least a B-. I had received a 77 on both my law and BCA exams. At that point, there was definitely no hope after I had calculated my total points in the class from what I had in Blackboard. Last night, he curved my grade to a B. I didn’t feel that I was worthy of a B, let alone a B-. As for my BCA class, the 97 I had received on our data analysis project and my performance in the class is what pretty much saved my grade. My performance in Math had saved my grade as well, though I got an 80 on that exam. As for my graphic design class, my second hardest and most time-consuming and frustrating class, I had received an 85 on the exam. (somehow). My professor for once gave me grace and gave me a 94 on our final project, a project that I was fearful of due to my professor and I’s difference in style. There’s no need to explain why I got an A in English, that’s a given.

It blows my mind how God made a miracle out of something that I felt was not worth trying for. I’ve learned a lot in terms of what I need in my life next year, as well as what I deserve (in this case-I really didn’t deserve to have this all happen to me at once in such a short notice). I’ve had to trust God with a lot of situations in my life-this situation was honestly one of the scariest things to trust Him with. But I am so so blessed to have a God who loves me so much and always provides, even when there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to trust Him when things are hard. I’m so thankful to have a God that leads the way when I’m lost, who always finishes what He starts.

Finishing off a post with saying have faith and know hope has never hit me so hard or meant so much. Seriously, HAVE FAITH, KNOW HOPE.


hello, my name is _______.

I won’t lie-the past two months have been unbelievably wild.

I returned to Central confident in my recovery in my mental health, especially through the closer bond I had with my roommates and friends from the month prior after a particular event, joining life groups at His House, and a brand new semester with classes I chose this time around. After a month and a half, I found my life spiraling down to a place I never thought I’d ever be in, and in a way it was a place where I could experience the pain that came along with the season and learn from it at the same time rather than learn my lesson right after like things usually had been. Let me give you a summary of the month of February for me.

As told in my previous post, the news of my roommate not living with me next  year made me fearful for my future, left me doubting and questioning if my current friends even liked me and who my real friends were, and resulted in the rapid decline of my self worth, identity, and especially my mental health. My situation concerning my love life took a toll on my health as well, pushing me to my limits. This resulted in relapses, confrontations, opening up, isolating, lots of tears, and mostly trying to gain back the self control I once had to not hurt myself or be angry at others for their actions towards me. Self harm became a kind of addiction I had never experienced before and put me in a place where I struggled to be comfortable in my own body because of these unwanted thoughts and feelings.

Long story short-an organization on campus became involved with my situation, resulting in meetings with my RHD concerning where I was at in my life and what kind of help I needed. I can say that I’m grateful for the concern and the stability I have now that I regularly meet with a counselor, but everything that has come with that has been something very difficult to handle for me. I once was willing to be open to talk about issues that came up from anonymous reports filed about me, but after noticing that my RHD no longer wanted to talk about my progress and rather primarily about small issues, I feel hesitant to do so. I grew tired of hearing about people turning me in without a name, I mainly grew tired of feeling like a threat. I understand the need to make sure the community is a safe place for everyone, yeah, but I am not safe. I do not feel comfortable in my dorm without feeling like someone is listening in to my conversations with my roommates outside of my door. I do not feel comfortable knowing that when I open up my emails I could have another email from my RHD asking to “catch up”. I do not feel comfortable knowing that someone could take me away at any moment if they have even the slightest feeling that I could harm myself or others. But they will say that this is the consequences of my actions, right?

And that’s what pisses me off.

It upsets me that no matter how willing I am to cooperate with authority and seek out help, how much I’ve progressed, everything filed about me hovers over me, it’s become my identity and my name. I am a threat to the Beddow Hall community. I am looked at as someone that could be dangerous if pushed too far past her limits. I will never know how these kind of reports continue to be filed about me, who has so much of a “concern” about me to refuse to knock on my door and tell me their problems with me but can listen into everything I say, watch everything I do.  All of this may sound all over the place, but can you blame me when I have so little answers?

Why is it that those who struggle and strive to heal and get better always wear that burden? Where’s the encouragement? Where is the LOVE? Why is it so easy for those to point fingers but so hard to love and accept those who may fall from time to time? Or did I happen to end up in a community I feel unsafe with for a  reason?

My heart hurts. It hurts for those who feel like I do. It hurts for those long past their dark days and their past still lingers. It hurts for all of my friends and family that I drag along with me through this season. But like I said in my previous post, this season has made me extremely humble. It’s led me to a place where I can learn to love others on a deeper level. I can communicate with people in a whole other language. Most of all, this season has been showing me that despite what the world labels me as, what this “community” looks at me as, that God has wiped away all of my transgressions and has made me clean. My God says that my sin does not define me nor control me or my future. My God continues to mend those broken pieces and make me whole.

I think that many times those who struggle feel a lot like I do and that they will never fit into society because of the labels put on them and what everyone claims they are, true or not. And despite a part of me wanting to cry and relapse and wear the name they labeled me, there’s also the stronger part of me that shuts out those lies. In order to fully understand your worth, you have to shut out those lies. You have to have at least a little bit of respect for yourself to not let anyone make you feel any less than you really are. You have to stand firm in your identity in Christ, you have to stand firm in your beliefs and yourself. You mostly have to remember that its going to get better. I have a month and a half left of this pain and fear for my life, and despite my fears that the news will get around and my RA and RHD will be on me about what I went through this year, I have to trust God through it all. Leaning on Him entirely is how I’ve continued to not let my depression overcome me in these difficult times, even though I want to give up and let the darkness consume me. You are not what anyone says about you. Only God can judge.

If anyone else is experiencing a situation like I am, I’d love to talk about it with you. Never be afraid to talk to anyone out of fear of judgement. I’d love to get to know you. And as always, have faith. Know hope.



my new recognized fear

Generally, I know a lot of people. I have many acquaintances and a wide arrange of friends, but only a few close friends. Since moving to Mt.Pleasant, I’ve met a widespread of amazing (and few that are terrible) people. Whether it was through Instagram, Tinder (yeah, I get it, Tinder isn’t a place for making friends-still did), group chats, church, and even through just being neighbors. Despite the fact that I lack the ability to communicate with others in a way where I don’t look or feel uncomfortable when it comes to meeting new people, I manage to grab my friend’s attention in one way or another. But this problem of not knowing how to maintain friendships that aren’t through a screen has caused many of the friends I have to collect dust, expecting them to come to me if they want to keep talking because I’m not good with determining if someone likes me or not. This has resulted in my “clique” at CMU to be myself, my roommates, my neighbors, and my lovely friend Jt who lives in a galaxy far away-also known as the north side of campus.

So here’s a rundown of the problem with my “clique”: I was romantically involved with my neighbor, obviously didn’t work out at all. One suitemate is moving out of state, the other is moving into apartments, in the span of two weeks I found out my roommate was planning to transfer her junior year, (which terrified me with knowing that I’d be roomie-less my junior year), and then found out she was moving into apartments-with my bestie that is my current neighbor. This news had sent me into a spiraling panic mode, realizing that the people I’ve poured my heart to, who’ve accepted me for every weird part of me, who have helped me through my difficult times and relapses throughout the year, would no longer be with me. It didn’t matter if two of them would still be attending the same school. It didn’t matter if my best friend would be living next door in the fall. What mattered was my fear of who would be my roommate next year, if my future suitemates would accept me like my roommates have, and who would be there first-hand to help me if I was having problems that wasn’t a boy (sorry Jt). This opened my eyes to a fear I never thought I particularly had when it came to friend groups and the reason behind my desires for a stable and working relationship: I was afraid of feeling more lonely than I already secretly did.

From time to time I would feel lonely when I was going through difficult seasons because I was afraid to reach out to my friends for help, resulting in me isolating myself. When it came to Swartz Creek, I was better off not having any friends because the culture of that school is not something I agree with and the people that I had grown to love were people I distanced myself from. Mind you that I’ve lived in Swartz Creek all of my life, so I never had a fear of making friends since I grew up with most of them and I was very involved in after school activities. I had walked onto CMU’s campus with this mindset that making friends would be easy, I would be in clubs, I’d get good grades, and I would be able to heal from my past and become independent. My seasonal depression once again returned, I gave up making time for clubs amidst trying to keep up with my schoolwork and my mental health, my depression set another obstacle for me overcoming the issues I moved to CMU with, and I once again isolated myself and kept my friend group limited to my “clique”.

As my difficulties grew, I kept breaking promise after promise with my roommates concerning my health. Eventually came a point to where they could no longer fully help me the way they had once before. On my end, the relationship I have with them was strained through my belief that they no longer liked me, that it was my fault they didn’t want to room with me next year, I was too much of a burden, and that they were more of my peers than my friends. As for my neighbor, I had felt all of these same things with him on top of the feeling of worthlessness and doubts that I fed to myself to give myself an explanation on why I ended up getting hurt the way I did. All of these feelings in such a short time (3 weeks to be exact) ended up putting me in an unsafe place with my depression, forcing me to seek outside help.

In this time, this was where I’ve grown the most spiritually in my walk with Christ. I had to surrender these doubts, the heartbreak, and my feelings of loneliness to God. I had to open myself to Him so he could make miracles out of my entire situation. I had to learn to lean more on God when I felt vulnerable to the darkest parts of myself, listen to him and his truth over the lies that Satan was speaking over me and remember that God only gives us what he knows we can handle. I had to take initiative with speaking up about how my friends were making me feel and remind myself when I did the truth about what they think of me. I had to literally speak that truth over myself and drive Satan away with the armor of Truth. I began spending my mornings drinking coffee and writing out my feelings and prayers, and God would answer every single freaking prayer I wrote for that day. ( Like how cool is that?). I had to trust in His timing, his plan for me and make purpose out of the pain I was feeling. I had to be firm with the truth that I am good enough, and be firm when anyone tried making me believe otherwise.

Since getting the help I needed and talking to my friends about how everything was affecting me negatively and seeking guidance and encouragement from my life group and my double-duty Mom who also is my mentor, the relationship I have with them is no longer strained and the weight I once felt from their distance from me had been lifted. I’m trusting on His timing in terms of the people He will bring into my life, being grateful for the people who’ve stayed, and I’m learning to be humble in a way I never have before.

To sum up what has been put on my heart: trust. Understand that pain is temporary, no matter what form. Trust in the truth about yourself, speak that truth over the lies about yourself. You are good enough. You don’t have to be good enough for someone else, but you have to know that you are good enough for yourself and only you alone. And by God if anyone dares to tell you otherwise, speak up, stand up for yourself. Because you were made perfect, and you are so loved. And if you eve feel alone, you’re not. There is a God who’s arms are open to you, He is waiting for you. Honestly guys, I’ve found in this season that God is the greatest friend. For real, I pray and talk to him like we’re best friends. Because once I gave up the desire to become good enough for my friends so they wouldn’t leave me and leaned on God’s truth and let God be good enough for me, our relationship has never been the same. Friends don’t always stay, but God does. You are good enough in God’s eyes. You are worthy. You aren’t awkward or weird or too depressing to God. He loves those things about you. And if you let Him, He can even use those things and give those “imperfections” a purpose. Let truth prevail.

God’s grace was the only way I could get through that difficult period of my life, and by God’s grace, I did. And you can too. Have faith, know hope.



from me, to you: a motivational message

If there’s one thing I can say that can be addressed towards everyone, it’s this.

You are capable of overcoming your fears and your chains. What you battle has nothing on you compared to the person you’ll transform into once you’ve overcome those chains. You were born to battle the things you battle because God knows you can overcome it. Nothing on this Earth will ultimately help you get better. No drug, no relationship, no fictional TV character, nothing. Everything on this Earth is temporary. The first step is believing in your own strength, even if you feel like it’s not there. Often we depend on earthly things to help cope with our struggles because we believe that it truly does help. We continue to say that, and we still wake up and feel weighed down, and we go back to these earthly things, and we numb ourselves with that, and repeat. That’s the art of living in the 21st century.

I often doubt my own strength. But when I see the person that I’ve become BECAUSE I no longer believed the lies told to me, the lies that I would never recover, I would always be depressed, anxious, I wasn’t worthy to walk amongst everyone else. I’ve hit rock bottom multiple times. Completely given up. Relapsed, gave myself to earthly things, I let everyone and everything consume every inch of me because there was nothing left I could give to the world so eager for me to end it all. But the promises God has given to me, which has always been that I would be given happiness, HAS ALWAYS BEEN FULFILLED TO ITS FULLEST. HE HAS NEVER GIVEN ME ANYTHING LESS THAN THAT. He has never given me anything to battle that he knew I couldn’t beat. In those times, I can completely lean on him to guide me. His confidence in me alone is my driving force. I trust in his confidence in me to overcome my daily battles.

Whether you believe in God or not, you will always be promised joy in your life. No matter how long it takes, how it happens. Always believe that you can do anything you put your mind to. And if that’s defeating anxiety, depression, doubts, etc., YOU WILL CONQUER! You are better than the things you do to temporarily numb your (also temporary) pain. If you can’t trust yourself just a little bit that you can get better, just a faint bit of hope, you never will. It’s one of those things you have to really slap yourself in the face for to really grasp it. Please please please don’t let this world tell you that you are not good enough, that you are not strong enough. Don’t let it break your beautiful heart. Have faith that everything I’m saying is true. That you will never be alone. And if you feel that you are now, you’re not. Don’t ever tell yourself that bullcrap. Never ever never.

Stand up, my love. Chin up. Faith. Confidence. Trust. Self-love. HOPE.



jesus: a declaration


Year four. Four years of celebrating a new life in your light. Within these four years, you have stood beside me in every single trial you have put me through, teaching me and helping me grow so that I can be your hands, I can do what you have called me to do.


You have healed the wounds I had inflicted on myself-inwardly and outwardly-so that I could embrace those who are broken. You have given me a voice that breaks down walls and soften hearts without me even opening my mouth.


You have changed my life in a way that’s unbelievable even for my eyes. You have given me so many crazy opportunities, given me some pretty amazing people in my life, and you continue to remind me of your presence in my life through big and little gestures.


You have watched me fall apart. You have watched me curse your name, doubt your capabilities as my heavenly Father. You’ve watched me break down, you’ve watched me relapse. You stood beside me in times when my depression had the best of me, when I was afraid.

and Jesus,

This doesn’t feel like another season, even though it is. It has almost felt like a cycle. It’s my life. Often I feel like I cannot stand over Satan in victory for longer than a month.


I have been tempted. I have fallen apart. I have disbelieved in your purpose for my life time and time again. I have doubted my capabilities to overcome any obstacle in my way. I have doubted my strength physically and mentally. I have relapsed. I live in isolation.  I have made myself believe that my loneliness is the closest I can get to comfort. I have given in to what Satan and the world says about me. I have given up, and I have given in to the belief that I am completely alone.

but Jesus,

These feelings are nothing that you haven’t fixed in the past. No matter how long it took, you had always proved your power to restore the broken, in this case myself, to me. You’ve always opened my eyes and given me understanding to my pain. You have never failed to fill my heart with your love. You’ve picked me up from where I had fallen, and because of that I have been able to rejoice and dance in your presence. You’ve always made my battle with depression so worth it.

and because of all of this, this is my declaration to you. This is where I throw down the towel, drop everything off of my shoulders.


I surrender my entire heart, mind, and soul to you. I believe in your power to restore my heart and strengthen it. I ask you to give me the patience to wait for what you have for me, to be able to wait for you to finish your masterpiece that is myself. You have never broken your promises to me, from the moment you promised me you would make me happy again if I surrendered to you four years ago to now. You have given me your entire heart, your love. Your own life. For my mistakes. I trust in your plan, I trust in your perfect timing. I trust you in every situation I’m in. I trust you with everything you call me to do. I will continue to strive because you have never given up on me. I will continue to dance and rejoice in your light (even if I don’t know how to dance), I will be true to myself and who I am. You have made me perfect, and my pain does not compare to what you have in store for me.

I ask that you help me accept the things I can’t change, change the things I can, and have the wisdom to know the difference between both. I ask you to give me the ability to love others and myself, even when I don’t want to.

I am ready for what you have for me. No more childish games. I’m ready to get my hands dirty.


I want to fall in love with you all over again, just as I have after every season. But deeper.



it is well: the journey of inner peace

“The soles
of my shoes
no longer separate
You and I
let us dance.”


This story leaves off after my post Breaking Free, pretty much dreading every day that was passing by. Crying every night before bed to relieve myself of the heaviness I felt in my heart, just barely putting effort into school work because I wanted to lay in bed all day, that kind of stuff. It almost felt like a drag walking across stage to get my diploma. I often felt very broken hearted being around generally happy people, mostly because I couldn’t escape whatever feeling I was feeling. Yet I also didn’t know exactly why I was feeling the way I was feeling. In the end I had to remove some people from my life to recover, and I tried to find positive ways to cope with the way I was feeling. And sometimes those positive coping tactics didn’t work. And I’d cry. And struggle to keep myself together. And most importantly, drift away from God. For a while I felt very separated from him, and that kind of loneliness was a kind of loneliness that I’ve never felt before and had a hard time getting out of.

Feeling sad in some way ended up becoming a daily routine that I couldn’t run from. While I love to Instagram because I enjoy taking pictures, it also became my worst enemy. Pretty much all of my social media platforms were like that, mostly because of what I say on a day to day basis. My first mistake was never removing the people I should’ve been removing. Second mistake was continuing to use these apps even though they hurt my heart. But even with talking about how I felt through here didn’t do my heart much justice. Even confronting who I felt hurt about didn’t help me out much either. I felt that I had no one to really back me up. It was me, my God that I felt like wasn’t there, and the road I was on. I felt triggered by things I saw that I didn’t like, and that made me feel very sheltered in. Talking to new people and their intentions of being friends with me had made me question my worth, if I was nothing more than a girlfriend, an object, a cute girl. And these kinds of conversations were reasons why I cried at night. I genuinely did not feel good enough to be just friends with someone. Because of these thoughts I drifted off of the thought of who God said I was. I would often have meltdowns and a lot of times I was really scared that I’d never calm down from it. I would rock, shake my head, stare off until I started crying again, you name it. But while some of these things happened to me, I was honestly improving dramatically since March, and that was the most amazing feeling of my life.

I can’t honestly pin point when things started really changing for me. During these meltdowns I’d often talk to God, tell him how I feel and pray for what I wish I felt like. I knew my goal, and that goal was to remove feeling triggered by generally small things, keep meltdowns to its very minimum, and to love myself and pursue His glory. And he’d present himself to me and his presence in my life with the smallest gestures. My time at Disney was these kind of moments. I think another thing that kind of steered me into the direction I’m going towards now is the realization that I am the only one that can fix myself and to not assume everyone is the same and that God puts people into my life for a reason. And then this really cool thing happened. I met an amazing friend. And they’ve completely changed my perspective on my entire existence. Just from how interested they were in knowing me, who I was, how I felt, and speaking life into me. Not only that, but I got to do the same for them without feeling afraid of their intentions. It was a moment like that really showed me what kind of impact I had on people, that God knows what he’s doing.  And that was what strived me to continue forward, and I did.

Now we’re here. I can’t exactly remember the last time I had a meltdown, I don’t feel so stressed out (besides the struggle of moving on towards college), I’m starting to realize who I am and the purpose God has for me, and while the season outside is changing, the season I’ve been going through for the past 9 months is starting to pass too. I have this desire to lean on God on all of my troubles, to get to know him and to reminensce the moments we have one on one. Not only has my interactions with people have changed since March, but the way I worship has too. It feels more at ease. Its comfortable. It makes me shiver and cry but it makes me sing a whole different way. I have never felt so at peace in my life.  Even after explaining the past four months of my life I’m not really sure how I can explain how I got through besides the glory of God and always reminding myself that it is well. Even when I can’t see my future before me, I have to trust that it is well and things will all fall into place.

(did I mention I’m always singing that song 24/7? Even squeezing it into different worship songs because I love it so much?)

And I mean, I guess I can give myself a ‘lil credit for waking up every day and choosing to get out of bed. Maybe.


“I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.”

-Philippians 3:14