This is Me Trying: Depression, Mission Reunions, and Not Giving Up

 Hello one and all!
The past few weeks have been really hard. My depression has been absolutely horrible. I feel like I say that all the time, but some days/moments that's all I can feel, so it does take up a lot of my time.
I've made a blog schedule for the next few months, most of which was supposed to get done the last two months, but my life was crazy so that didn't happen. I have a lot of great blog content in the works that I would love to share with all of you. However, with the current state of my health and how hard I am working to combat it, I don't usually have time, energy, or motivation to finish producing those things. I still have them all written on my blog planning board so that when I'm ready, they will get done. But if working on those things and meeting deadlines that I've already missed is causing me stress just to think about, I don't want to do it and I don't want to make myself do it. Writing every day is really important for me, but right now I want to focus on writing only the things my heart is drawn to and that bring me peace. I'm currently really drawn to a character-based project I'm working on personally; I started writing my first play and I've found a lot of comfort in the characters and stories there. I also need to work on journaling more because I have struggled in the past year to let myself participate in self-reflection, which is vital to existing, I think.
While the blog projects I have planned will be on hold, however, I don't want to be completely MIA from the blog. I love it here, but I just can't bring myself to work on things that are bringing me stress to just think about. I'm focused on healing and improving right now. So this is a new series called "This is Me Trying" (yes, that's for us, Swifties), and hopefully it won't be around too frequently, but it's just for me to get on the blog and write about whatever I want when I can't write about anything else and this is the best I can do.
With that said, the remainder of this post may get a little triggering/disturbing regarding depression and disordered eating.

I'm lucky to say that I have been finding a lot of solutions lately. Over the past few weeks, I've been able to identify some specific problems I'm facing. I've known for a hot minute that I need to go back to therapy since this has been a hard year for depression in general, but I didn't know what I would even talk about. I didn't want to walk in and just be like, "Hey, I'm really sad but I don't know why." But things that have been happening recently have gotten me reflecting on quite a few things, and I realized there are a lot of problems I have buried. Now that they're identified, I feel ready to work on them. I'm going to start seeing a therapist again within the next two weeks.
I've also been working on my sleep and exercise routines, because those things can really change the game for depression. It has been so helpful, and I'm working every day to get better. I hate to sound like a downer by talking about what I'm going through all the time, but while it's true that I am really struggling right now, I am happy to say that there is so much hope involved. I feel God beside me and I feel the improvement ahead of me and with me right now even.
Some things you expect about depression, despite still being unsettling, like crying your eyeballs out and having an anxiety attack as you lie in bed waiting to fall asleep, or like standing on a balcony or by a train track and picturing the worst thing possible happening to the people around you. What people frequently forget to mention is how absolutely gross depression is. My gosh, my room is a mess. Before I got home from my mission, I was definitely the neatest of all of my siblings, but now it's like I can't seem to keep a space clean for my life. I have to work so hard to make sure I have the right amount of nutrition/hydration/sleep to be able to do anything, so the idea of cleaning my room can be really exhausting a lot of the time. Taking a shower is so difficult. I find myself eating at irregular times because I'm afraid of doing it at normal times of the day. Everything just feels super ugly and messy. People know that depression is sad. Sometimes we forget to mention that it is so much more; sometimes it's just plain vile.
My depression almost affected my life for the worst in a new way this last week. On July 31, I had a mission reunion. President Cordon and Sister Cordon moved on to their new assignment. They are done with being the California Los Angeles Mission president and have moved on to be the area presidency of the North America West area of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We all got together at Brother Galorath and Sister Galorath's home in Provo, Utah. I was so scared to go that I almost backed out. It was the cause of many anxiety attacks, and I cried about it nearly every day approaching the event. What was I so afraid of? 
The truth is sad and disgusting, as all things with depression are. I hadn't seen most of my mission friends in quite awhile, and a lot of them live in northern Utah, so most of them are together most of the time. I was scared that if I showed up to this party with all my mission pals, I would be with people that are already always with each other, and I would be the odd one out. No one would want me there. Nobody would care whether or not I had showed up. It had been so long, so many of the friends I had made on my mission didn't even feel real.
A lot of things about my missionary service didn't feel real. I realized I don't let myself think about it much. My little brother, Jacob, recently began his own missionary service for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. With him beginning his own incredible journey, it brought me to a lot of reflection on my own. When I would try to recall a lot of awesome memories, I realized it was incredibly difficult. And I don't mean it was emotionally difficult. I mean it was like I physically could not bring myself to hold onto a memory for my life. Everyone knows that this is a pretty common symptom of depression, but I noticed that it was more specifically with mission memories. I had trained myself to not think about my missionary service. I did definitely go through periods of time over the last year that made it more painful to think about my mission, but I think the main contributor to this is how a lot of people made me feel when I had first returned. The guilt that people make return missionaries feel for talking about and thinking about their mission is disgusting. The longer I was home, the more guilty or embarrassed  I would feel for bringing up anything surrounding the subject. Literally anything. I have loved and adored California, and specifically LA, since the first time I went there. I'm a film student. But even the mere mention of California in a conversation made me want to run and hide. To anyone and everyone: people talk about their lives. They should not feel guilty for talking about their lives. Take some time to consider that when a return missionary talks about her/his missionary service, she/he is talking about some of the most special experiences and memories she/he has up to that point. That is something she/he has lived and breathed for the past couple of years of her/his life. It is as natural as you bringing up whatever happened to you a few months ago. It is completely normal. How dare you?
As you can see, I'm quite angry about it, and what I'd come to realize is that I was quite angry about a lot of things. The above statements and more made me realize my mission had grown a negative connotation within me, something I never wanted to talk or think about. It just didn't feel good. It was a heartbreaking realization. One of the most sacred things in my life, something I had worked the majority of my teenage years for (and the first year of my twenties), something I had prayed for and waited for so long in my life, now brought me pain, anxiety, or even resentment to think about. I didn't want to be in a room of people from that time of my life. That would bring up even more resentment; these people were my best friends, my family even, and now I hardly ever talk to them. I was more vulnerable and open with them than I have been for most of my life. Looking back as a woman who tries to play tough sometimes to the point that she can't feel anything, I feel so much anger that I shared so much of myself, even with people that meant the world to me, just to be so far away from them now.
However, I prayed. Some of my plans in going north got conflicted, and I told God in the middle of the night one night, after yet another mental breakdown regarding this reunion, that I didn't even know if I was going to go anymore. It seemed like I wouldn't be able to, and no one would miss me if I didn't go anyway. Or better yet, maybe they would miss me, and me not being there would make them realize how much. I talked through this with God, and then a feeling came to me so clearly that I said it out loud: "This is going to change my life, isn't it?"
I was overwhelmed by the thought of, Yes, it absolutely is. You need to go.
Of course at that point I was sobbing even harder, because that is terrifying. I didn't even know if I wanted to go. But now I knew I needed to. I slept on it, and everything felt better. I woke up with a clear thought of a new plan. I felt good about the things that were going to happen. I felt at peace. Did I want to go? I had no idea, but at that point it felt divine so I felt determined. I was getting there no matter what it took.
It took some working out. It took a lot of crying. It took a lot of talks with my family. I made a deal with myself, unhealthy as it was, that if I at least showed up I wouldn't have to eat. (Sometimes it's about compromise, people.) But I did get there. My friend Emily and I both live in Cedar City and reported to the mission at the same time, so we got to drive up together. It was a blast listening to Taylor Swift and One Direction, and even talking with her about the reasons I was so afraid to go to the reunion. It felt good to talk to her about the things that were bothering me, that I had confessed to very few people, especially since she was a sister training leader of mine on the mission, so we had had similar talks before. My dad's aunt Sherri was generous enough to let me stay in her home for the weekend--and was kind enough to not say anything when I started crying after she asked how the reunion went.
The reunion was amazing. I was terrified of no one caring if I showed up, but it was amazing to see so many friends. People that I had barely known on the mission wanted to talk to me. The few people that knew how hard it was for me to show up congratulated me on how brave I was for coming and said they were glad I came. It's special to be around people that you dedicated so much time to serving God with. It really is a reminder of the amazing miracles that have happened in my life, and how many angels God has granted me, especially in that period of time. I can't even begin to tell you how wonderful it was to be able to see Sister Cordon again--she greeted me with the same words she always does, "Beautiful Day!" I can't begin to tell you how great it was to get to hug President Cordon (some of my friends said that was weird, but pals, I've been waiting two straight years for that moment), to have him ask about my depression and being able to tell him that it's been a hard year but I'm finding solutions. How great it was to have people ask about Jacob's missionary service and how he was doing. Finding out that an old companion of mine has a sister that is going to his mission and reported at the same time as him, and my president telling me that Jacob has a great example in me of what a missionary should be.
President Cordon and Sister Cordon had us all sit down so they could share a devotional with us. It was exactly what I needed to hear. They said that being a disciple of Jesus Christ doesn't mean just doing things. It is in fact much more about becoming. If we wanted to follow Jesus, we couldn't just do what we needed to be doing, we needed to try to be a better person every day. They said that the thing people usually miss the most about the mission is the spiritual experiences, and President said that those spiritual experiences come through service. I've decided to make service a huge priority in my life, because I know that is the best thing I can do as a daughter of God, a disciple of Christ, and a person who loves others and is looking for personal happiness.
After the reunion, I went with a few of my closest friends to see the sequel to my favorite movie. A Quiet Place Part II had stopped playing in the Cedar City cinema, so when I realized I was spending a weekend in Provo, I knew it was my perfect and probably only chance. When my mom suggested to me that I get a few of the friends to go with me while I was there, I was afraid and the thought hadn't even kind of crossed my mind before. Remember, I literally almost didn't show up to the reunion because I was afraid no one would even want me there. But I had a blast with my besties. They really are some of my best friends, and I think that was something I forgot. It was nice to remember how alone I'm not. And of course A Quiet Place Part II was another masterpiece by the Krasinski-Blunt family and rest of the amazing crew.
While I was there, I did on occasion wonder what the life-changing element of the weekend was supposed to be. But when I got back home to Cedar City, it was so incredibly clear. I had more positive feelings about my mission than I'd had in a long time. I had spent so much time shoving the memories of my mission away because remembering my mission made me feel guilty. With every recollection, I felt like someone was shaming me for it. But when I had the privilege to be around my angels again and to remember the wonderful times and experiences that we had together, it brought joy back into a really major part of my life. It reminded me of a lot of great relationships that I almost subconsciously had forgotten I had. My life was changed indeed.
I'll have you know that I spent about a month writing this post, which is pretty much why this post exists in the first place. I have so much amazing content lined up for the rest of the year, but I'm trying to take it easy, and if a post rambling on my most recent thoughts is the most I can do, then that's what I'm going to do.
Life has been so wild this year, but I have not given up. Not even close. I try my best every day, and sometimes I do my best. However, sometimes I don't, and I need to be okay with owning up to the fact that I did less than what I could do that day. Other days, I need to be okay with the fact that my best isn't as good as it usually is, because it's just a bad day, but that doesn't mean it wasn't my best. Don't be discouraged by hard days. We're all just trying our best, and whatever you can do is enough. That's why I'm a Chritian; every day I am increasingly aware of what I can't do, but I don't need to be able to do those things. I'm saved by the grace of God, because he can do it all. He does everything I can and can't do.
*insert sappy One Direction lyrics here, something from the first two albums preferably* You have all of my love.

Happy Eight Years!

Hello one and all!
I understand that I've said this so many times already, but it has been a very hard year. With that said, I missed a very important event on the blog: on May 27, 2021, the blog had its eighth birthday.
Normally on the blog's anniversary, I publish a post to celebrate the occasion, but this time life just got so out of control, or at least that's how I felt. I have tried. I just never got around to writing this post, but I definitely had plans for it.
The blog birthday post doesn't have a theme to follow each year. I just write about whatever feels appropriate, and whatever fits the spirit of It's an Adventure! I contemplated a few different things to write this year, and I finally landed on the idea for a post I wanted to write regardless but felt fit the bill for the blog's birthday. Like I said, it's been a rough year. I definitely would appreciate some advice right now, as I surely would have many times during the year. I've wanted to write a post about some pieces of advice I could've benefitted from over the course of my life, and that's what I wanted to celebrate this blog birthday with. I've narrowed it down to eight pieces of advice to celebrate eight years.

You don't need them to be cool. I adore being liked very much. As I've entered adulthood, however, I have gotten increasingly comfortable with the idea of myself as an individual. It sounds weird, especially for those of you that know me personally and know that I always have been quite a loner, a very independent person. But I so desired having friends in my youth, and once I had those friends, or had chosen the friends I thought I should have, I wanted nothing more to be liked by them, and at times when I felt I didn't measure up, I took that out on myself. I thought it meant something was wrong with me, or that I had to do something more to be liked. Only in the beautiful innocence of childhood have I ever really considered myself cool--once junior high hit, however, I definitely felt less certain of that. As I approach, twenty-two years of age, however, I've changed my mind again. I'm a pretty colorful person, and I think that's pretty cool. And I realize now that I was always this cool and vibrant of a person, but the people that I loved weren't always okay with me being that kind of person. Because that was true, I viewed myself as uncool and would suppress parts of myself that I wanted to be but thought the people around me didn't want to be. Let me ask you this, past Lizzo and all others that find herself in the same situation--who the heck made them the foremost authority on what is and is not cool? Their opinion isn't more valuable than yours, homie. If you think it's cool, don't let the haters stop you from being that way. And, consider this--who says you need to keep associating yourself with those people? Why do you need those friends? Why can't you find friends that you enjoy being with and enjoy being yourself with? To adapt the catchphrase of a dear friend of mine, the cool comes from within.

Stop writing secret admirer notes. Just be bold and say it with your chest, girl. It's more fun.
(This goes for everything by away. Tell the guy you like him, stand up for the people that are being mistreated, say what you think. At best it helps yourself and others, at worst it starts an adventure.)

It's okay to just like what you like--you don't need to fit in or stand out. As you can infer from the first piece of advice, I really love fitting in. I hate being the odd one out. Well, unfortunately for me, I happen to be the odd one out a lot. My entire life people have called me weird in a variety of ways--that I march to the beat of my own drum, that I'm a character, you name it. It has driven me absolutely crazy (by the way, I hated being called crazy too). It took me twenty-one years of life to finally accept it. I stopped denying all these statements and finally just took an honest look at myself and realized the truth: I am really weird. I'm just very different from the majority of people. That has led to me feeling like an outsider for the majority of my life. As I've examined my life this year, however, I've finally decided that doesn't have to be a bad thing. When you think about it, what is objectively right or wrong about being weird? Why can't my favorite colors be pink and blue? Why can't I prefer cats over dogs? Why can't I love Taylor Swift? Why can't my two favorite movies be the 1992 Aladdin and A Quiet Place? What is so wrong with me sleeping with a book? What is wrong with being reserved but not being shy? I've finally accepted that the things that make me really quirky also make me really brilliant. I think I'm quite the fun person, to be honest.
With this said, I've had the opposite preached to me many a time in my life. Don't fit in--stand out! The same, however, is true. What is objectively right or wrong about standing out? Standing out isn't fun if you're manipulating who you are to make it happen. I've heard so many people say that being normal is boring. Some of the most "normal" people I know are also some of my favorite people. Why? Because it's who they genuinely are, and they are genuine about being that way. It is so beautiful, and there are so many types of beautiful people. So go ahead. Fit in. Stand out. I don't care. As long as it's true to yourself and true to what's good, that's what really matters.
The strong majority of people are not trying to hurt you. Sis, I don't know where you got the idea that anything otherwise is true, but it's not. Being born with anxiety probably wasn't helpful, but most people are trying their best just like you and are so very kind. If trusting people is too much of a leap to start, then begin with not fearing them. Because there is nothing to be afraid of.

Change is a good thing. As a person with anxiety, change used to drive me crazy. And it's not like change is entirely stress-free for me now. But a few years ago I finally realized the truth about change: it's what life is all about. I realized it's what Christianity is all about. I mean, my core belief in life is that Jesus suffered, died, and lived again for me so that no matter what happened to me in my life, I could have a second chance. That means the purpose of my life is change! Change isn't something we should run from or be afraid of. It's something to not just be anticipated but to embrace!

Take care of yourself. Sure, the purpose of your life is to take care of people. But people includes yourself, chica. Plus, it makes the rest of life so much easier if you are just making sure you have the things you need. It is okay to prioritize being okay. This doesn't mean being selfish, it just means making sure everything that needs to be taken care of is taken care of. (You are something that needs to be taken care of, honey.)

Don't apologize for taking up space. This is a lovely piece of advice that I've heard for years, but only this year did I fully embrace what it meant. I wonder if it was said so many times that it kind of lost meaning. I wonder if it was something that no one ever really elaborated about so I didn't ever actually understand it. What I've come to understand about the phrase is this: people apologize for just existing a lot. However, being alive isn't a crime. There's nothing wrong with you being in a room. There's nothing wrong with eating. There's nothing wrong with walking. Nothing wrong with breathing. I've apologized for/felt guilty for doing all of the above things. No offense to myself or anyone else, but it's ridiculous. There's nothing wrong with existing. In fact, I'm glad we all do!

Make the place you want to be wherever you are. In regards to concluding my missionary service and my college summer plans, people would always inquire to me about going home. That has annoyed me for a long time. I know what they mean: they're referring to where my parents live in Henderson, Nevada. But I hate that that is what people refer to as my home, because it's not. It certainly is one of my homes, because I consider all the places I've lived home. And Las Vegas certainly is my hometown. But it's not my main home, because my main home is wherever I live. I have spent so much time in my life wanting to be wherever I'm not, and not just physically. When I was eighteen I finally reached my breaking point with that matter. I felt like I had blown my freshman year of college, and I promised myself I would never face that level of regret again, not as far as it was in my control. So to me, home is where the heart is quite literally--home is wherever I happen to be. Because in my mind, home should be the place you feel most comfortable and I want to be most comfortable in whatever my current situation is. Not every situation is ideal, but it can always be better or worse. It's all about trying to make your situation the best you can and be as happy as you possibly can be while you're there.

I hope any of the above advice helps you. It definitely helped me to write it out. Those are some of the things I need to remember most, things that I too frequently forget. But when we live by those rules, when we prioritize happiness coming from inside ourselves and doing whatever is good and true, life is not only an adventure, but an enjoyable one.
Thanks for being a part of my great adventure. Here's to another great year!

My Experience at My First Pride Celebration

I have been away for so much longer than I intended to be. This has honestly been a pretty hard year. Between personal struggles, depressive episodes, lots of school and work, and anxiety, there have been a number of roadblocks. That said, I'm really happy to be back and I'm really happy with where I'm at in life right now.
 

The other week I was the audio/visual technician at a pride celebration hosted in the Great Hall at my school. While walking home from this event, I couldn't stop thinking about it and how I honestly wanted to write about it right that second. The experience was a narration worth telling about.
To preface this story, I want to say that if anything comes off as disrespectful in any way, I apologize. My intention is not to hurt anyone; quite the opposite. I just want to tell the story as it happened, and what it made me think of.
I also feel like I should give context for who I am, to maybe explain how I would see this experience. I am a Christian (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints). I believe that marriage is sacred, supported by God, and that it was meant to be between a man and a woman, with complete fidelity to your spouse and yourself before and during marriage. With that said, I want to tell you about my first pride celebration.
I went to this celebration for work. I'm an audio/visual technician, so for almost all on-campus events, any sound or video/lighting equipment needed is set up by us. This pride celebration took place on campus, so we were called in to work for it, and I was assigned to the particular job. I honestly didn't know what to expect.
I think I thought it would be a campus-run event, and pretty casual.. I was wrong. When I got to the Great Hall, there were about three people already there. They were setting up a snack table. All of them were wearing pretty extreme clothing, and it made me quite nervous. I didn't know what I was getting into, and I'm a pretty reserved person. However, I was just there to work, and even though I had to stay through the whole event, I usually wasn't much of a participant in events I worked for, so I just started setting up and figured that was pretty much all I would be doing that evening.
The party requested microphones and music, the latter provided by the hosts. After I got the microphones set up, I asked the host of the party what music he had for me to play. He told me that it was his first time ever planning and hosting a party. I told him that I hadn't worked an event in this space in quite awhile (thus why I was kind of running around like I didn't know what I was doing), so we were at least kind of in the same boat and just gonna get through it together.
I finally figured out where to plug in the device to get his music playing. Soon guests started showing up and I started playing music. He had made a special pride parade for the event. I just had to sit there and let it play. I sat in the back and wrote.
As the hosts continued getting the final pieces of the party ready and people started showing up, I heard the hosts mention a drag show that would be the final event of the evening. That REALLY freaked me out. I think you guys know that I'm not super interested in engaging in sexual things, and definitely not in watching other people engage in sexual things. I was worried about having to leave in the middle of the party if I got too uncomfortable. However, as the hosts discussed this part of the event, they were so respectful. They were making a set list and even asking every participant what they wanted to be called when they performed, whether it was their real name or a stage name. They looked over every song to make sure that it was appropriate, not too explicit or graphic, because this was a family-friendly party; there were a lot of adults as well as a lot of little children there. They discussed telling people to keep their performances clean, and to tell the audience before the drag show started so they could leave if they weren't comfortable with participating. It touched my heart how much consideration they were taking into how other people felt at their party.
Like I said, I don't typically do much during events like this, so I expected to just sit in the back and monitor the music while it played. However, throughout the night multiple people came and requested me to play specific songs. Eventually I asked the host if I was allowed to take requests because I just kept getting them, and he said that was absolutely fine. It was so fun talking to people and finding the songs they wanted me to play, adding them to the queue of music. Not only was I a participant in this event, but I wanted to be, so different from so many of my tech jobs.
Most of the evening was socializing, snacking, and dancing. Friends and families were all gathered together. Contrary to what I thought would be the case, this event wasn't run by the school. It had been put on by a couple of students, so it was just a small community event for people that were interested in coming. Everyone gathering together and having a great time in each other's company was the most beautiful sight I had ever seen.
Eventually it was announced what time the drag show would start, and pointing out that if anyone was uncomfortable with that part of the event, that was when they should slip out. The host made the announcement that he said he would, that the performers were supposed to keep it family-appropriate. He also said that people that felt comfortable being touched or danced with should sit in the front, and those that did not should sit in the back. Again, I was filled with love witnessing this man's respect and appreciation for his guests and doing everything he could to make them feel comfortable. This was his first time hosting a party? He was doing amazing. I was so impressed.
Of course I had been initially nervous for the drag show. However, it wasn't really a drag show. Only one of the performances made me uncomfortable, so I just chose not to watch that one. The others were pretty much just people dancing, interacting with the audience, singing, having a great time together. One guy even brought his roommates and their instruments and performed a few songs. It was what a party should be in my eyes, the more chill version of the parties that One Direction sings about but that you've never actually been to. Between every performance the host hyped up the previous performer and introduced the next one. At one point, a woman went up to sing a song that she was extremely nervous for. To reassure herself, she kept saying, "You're with family." The audience cheered, encouraged, and supported her throughout the entire performance.
As the evening went on, one of my old professors asked the two gentlemen who put the party together to say a few words. She was so grateful for them for putting this event together.
The gentlemen said that they were just hanging out one evening when they casually mentioned how they should put together a pride celebration. As they kept talking, the idea became more and more of a reality until they finally realized they were going to actually do it. They expressed so much joy and gratitude, and maybe that wasn't even verbal; but the way they were glowing was so significant to me. I think it was one of multiple times that night that I got choked up.
The last thing our host said was that living in Cedar City (a small town with not much cultural diversity), he was pretty sure that a lot of members of the LGBT+ community felt alone. To that he said, "Look around! We're all here." They had a lot of friends around them, and there were more people with them than they had realized. They really did have a community in their town.
After the event, before I cleaned up, I did something I don't think I've ever done before at a job: I congratulated him on how well he did, which he really appreciated. I knew he had been anxious for the event, how much work and care he had put in, and that I had genuinely enjoyed the party. It was some of the most fun I'd ever had working an event.
For those of you that want a summary of what the celebration of pride month is all about, I'd say my host friend said it best in his closing remarks. It's just to let people know they're not alone. Sexuality aside, beliefs aside, it is about what everything should be about: showing people they are not alone.
You all well know what I believe. I stated it at the beginning of this post. What I believe, however, can be well summarized by a few simple verses from the Bible, dictating the wise words of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ (Matthew 22:36-40):
"Master, which is the great commandment in the law?
Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.
This is the first and great commandment.
And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.
On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets."
The most important things in the world to me are loving God and loving His children. To love God, I worship Him and follow His teachings. To love His children, I show them compassion and support, no matter what they do. At the end of the day, I believe almost everyone is trying to do what's right, and sometimes they do and sometimes they don't. But I know if people judged me based on every time I tried to do the right thing and failed, I would hope they would show me compassion, because that happens quite frequently. I'm a Christian because I'm a sinner, which means I need help to get better. All of us fall short. If God shows me grace, the least I can do is show grace to everyone else. Quite honestly, what other people do is none of my business. I can only control how well I take care of them. I believe it's my responsibility to take care of others the best I can.
One of the education classes I took last semester was schools, society, and diversity. We talked about different aspects of identity in this class and how we could help our students in all of the different identities they come from. During the weeks that we talked about sexual orientation, the question came up (I think multiple times) of how to support our students even if we disagreed with their actions. The answer is so much simpler than people realize, or maybe than they're ready to accept. I learned when I was about sixteen years old that supporting someone and supporting what they do are two different things. Thinking otherwise means that your love is conditional, and love shouldn't be that way. It is none of my business what other people do, just like it is none of their business what I think/feel about what they do. When it comes to love, it is irrelevant. I still believe in traditional marriage, but when someone trusts me with an important part of who they are, there is no reason for me to tell them. I know so many people do things like that in an attempt to love and support the person while still making it clear what they believe, but when a person is in a vulnerable moment like that, it just makes them feel unheard and unloved, whether that is the intention or not. If someone asks or it comes up, that is of course fine to bring up, because there's nothing wrong with sharing what you believe in a comfortable and appropriate situation. But the overall priority is to make people feel loved. To love somebody, you do not have to understand them or justify what they do.
A small example is my dear friend Lily and I. She was my last mission companion, and you have never met two people that are more different. Everything that's true for her, the opposite is true for me. We even navigated our way through a personality quiz with the other sisters that lived in the building. Our personality types were literally exact opposites. But she is one of my best friends to this day, one of the companions I was the closest to. Just because we loved each other. And I think we could even recognize that the things that were different about us, the ways that we saw the world, they made us stronger when we worked together. We loved each other before we did anything else, and that is what makes any relationship good.
There's another passage from the Bible that speaks to the theme of pride month is in 1 Corinthians 13:4-7:
"Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things."
If you want to love someone, be patient and be kind. We're all just out here trying our best, and we're all just out here trying to not feel alone. Let's all do the best we can to help each other out.
Thanks and much love!

Why Talking About Spirituality and Religion is Important

 Hello one and all!
Things are so wild and so good. I have suffered some immense difficulty over the past few months, but that is only fair when I consider all of the amazing joys and blessings that I get to live every day. I love school, I love my job, I love the people I live with, and just all of the small and beautiful things about everyday life. And of course I love getting to write with all of you!

As you all well know, I am a very religious person. I'm a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and it plays a huge part in my life--like, such a huge part that it can't really be described; I often am asked what my life would look like if I didn't know about the things I believe and I genuinely couldn't tell you because they are such a fantastically large part of me.
With that said, and as many of you well know just from knowing me, I can hardly have a conversation without God coming up. Since God is at the center of everything I do, it only makes sense that God is at the center of everything I talk about. Sometimes I feel like it might come off as a gimmick, but the truth is that if I don't mention God frequently I feel guilty. As I believe it, God gave me everything in my life. Every good thing that happens to me is because of Him. For me, I talk about God and my religious beliefs a lot because in my eyes God is the origin of every wonderful thing in my life.
To be honest, though, I know that I'm a pretty rare person in that regard. Most people aren't like that. A lot of people avoid talking about religion or try to hide their beliefs altogether. Some people fear being bullied or belittled, and others don't want to cause contention or arguments. In fairness, therefore, I get why some people are hesitant to talk about their spiritual beliefs.
But I don't think it should be that way. I in fact think that sharing spiritual beliefs is so important and, that if it happened more often, the whole world would be a lot better off. My hope is that I can start a conversation here today on why this is important and how we can let go of the things holding us back from having these amazing conversations with each other.
In my religion, we believe that all religions hold truth. Since that's true, I love learning about other people's beliefs. Everyone's ideas contain such great insights on our spirits, on the world, on the purpose of life, on God, on so many things. When I hear other people talk about their religious beliefs and share their ideas with me, I learn more about my own beliefs and who God is. The love and joy of hearing someone sincerely talk about what they believe is so pure and beautiful that it is simply uplifting just to hear.
The problem we have with talking about religion is that we have made it a bad thing because we've turned it into a debate when it should really just be a conversation. We have so much to learn from each other that we can't afford for it to be an argument. Here's the thing, people (and as a return missionary for my Church, I can say this with more conviction than probably anyone else): people are not going to listen to you if you are mean and belittle them. So when I want people to believe in God because He has blessed my life so much, I do not tell them they are going to hell! Because no one wants to go where love is not present. I tell them how much I have felt the love of God and how He has made me a better person, and I leave it at that. Because that's the truth, and that's all anyone that wants to learn more about my religion really needs to know at its core.
The thing to keep in mind with religious conversations is that no one needs to convince anyone of anything. I have friends across many religious denominations and talk about religion with them frequently. They know it's important to me, and it is important to many of my friends as well! Like I said, we don't all believe the same. But we're friends, and we're okay with that. We see that our beliefs are deeply personal to each of us and that all of our beliefs stem from goodness and a desire to do the right thing. When you think about it that way, there is truly nothing to argue about. Everyone is trying to do what's right! Only pure intentions here! That means that good things are going to happen. When we walk into a conversation about spiritual beliefs knowing that no one there needs to convince anyone of anything, we just need to talk about things that matter to us, everyone can be uplifted by the conversation and learn a lot. I know I sure have learned a lot from people of other religions. For example, I love studying Judaism because it teaches me so much about my religion. I've also enjoyed learning about symbolisms and rituals in Catholicism. There is so much to enjoy about each religion and I love hearing about what other people believe.
This subject makes me think of a personal experience in my life that took place just over a year ago. My best friend of about four years is an atheist. You all know I am a very devoted Christian. She is so kind and understanding of my religion. She lets me share the things that matter to me, and understands that there are some things in life that I hold sacred, even if she does not believe those same things. This friend of mine was also raised in a Christian home, but she decided preteen/teenage years that she didn't believe the things she had grown up being taught.
Since I knew her religious origins and I knew her present religious standings, I was always curious about her spiritual journey and how she got to the point of the holding her new beliefs. I always wanted to ask, but I was too scared to do it. Who can say why? Maybe it was because I didn't want to make her uncomfortable, or maybe it was because I was afraid she would think I was trying to make her feel ashamed of her beliefs, when all I genuinely wanted was to know.
Well, as you can imagine, being a missionary kind of changed that. Talking to random strangers (a number of which later become good friends) about religious beliefs all day every day will quickly make it absolutely comfortable to do in every context. One day I was writing to my friend and told her that I had always wondered about her beliefs and her religious journey and I wondered if she would be willing to do a phone call with me sometime just to talk about it. She said that she would love to, and that (get this, folks) she usually just didn't talk about religious things because she didn't want to cause an argument.
We did a serious of phone calls in which we talked about her beliefs and mine. We got to understand how we both came to believe in/not believe in God, and what our thoughts on life and death were. She asked any and all random questions she could think of about my religion and I answered them. And we even talked about how good it was for us to have these conversations with each other, how it made us both think about what we really believed. Neither of us changed our religions during that time, but I do think that both of us changed. Having these conversations is a great opportunity to learn from those around us and even from ourselves.
So I guess if I had any invitation to give it would be that. Don't be afraid of talking about what you believe; in fact, seek out opportunities to do it. It will be hard to get other people on board at first, but it's just because they're afraid. Maybe if we make it clear that we have no intention or desire to cause an argument that will help. Maybe it will just take some explaining: "Hey, my religion means a lot to me so I just like to talk about it a lot. I like to learn about what other people believe too. I think it's so fascinating how much can be learned from what other people believe." I think that is what the majority of people want out of religious conversations, but they are afraid that others will perceive it the wrong way. If we all work together, there's a lot we can learn from each other. We can be united just as God intends us to.
Thanks and much love!

No Eating Rules?

Hello one and all!
I've provided a few new videos over the past few weeks, but I've been away from the keyboard for quite some time, and I'm sorry about that. I miss writing whenever I'm away from it.
I have been ridiculously busy, as you can imagine. Why anyone in their right mind would willingly choose to study English education, theatre, and film, I really don't know. I don't even know why people willingly choose to study English at all. The amount of reading and writing we have to do is absolutely ridiculous. And studying English education in specific is essentially like having a double major. So what I'm getting at is I have a double major and a double minor. Pray for me if you will.
But in all seriousness, I have had a really hard semester for so very many reasons. There have been many days I have been practically entirely unable to function. Things have gotten better as I've reached out for help and told people about my situation. Thank you all so  much for supporting me through all of the difficulties of this new semester. With all of that said, I feel so endlessly grateful to be in the position where I am. I can't believe that I get to study the only things I love every day (and I mean that quite literally, because I take religious classes at the religious institute across the street as well), and that there are a bunch of people like me that I am making connections with and working with all the time, and we are making each other's work better. I feel so much joy to be in this position. I can't believe that making content for people to enjoy and teaching young children how to do the same is something that I get to do for the rest of my life.

It has been requested that I write a post about mental health. There have been a lot of things on my mind that I would like to write about, but one thing in specific has been continuously coming up and I feel like I should finally address it. People are frequently curious about what I mean when I say it's important to not have eating rules.
I think most of you know that I suffered from disordered eating for many years of my life. The behaviors reached their disastrous peak when I was eighteen and that's when I finally started getting help. A lot more was required than I expected, and that's because a lot more was wrong than I understood. I ended up meeting frequently with an eating disorders specialist, and that was one of the best and most difficult summers of my life. While healing isn't easy, it is so happy. I think of that time with so much fondness. The lessons learned in eating therapy are far too vast for one post, so I'm going to try my hand at explaining this lesson in as clear and concise a manner as I possibly can.
I think this concept is well-introduced by a story from my therapy days. My therapist, Penny, asked if there was a time in my life I could recall that I felt really healthy. I thought on it for a minute, and I think I mentioned my sophomore winter guard season. I thought I ate pretty well at that time, and as a result I remember my body just typically feeling really good, no major complaints. I remember feeling so strong, like I could do anything. And I did do a lot of good stuff with my color guard team. We worked hard and performed well. I loved the athletic outlet I had with my team; I loved the activity and the way it felt. The follow-up question perplexed me. Penny asked, "Did you have any rules?"
I didn't really know what she meant. I just sat there confused for a moment and finally had to ask for clarification. She said, "Did you have any rules, things you were and weren't allowed to eat?"
I reflected on it in that therapy session, and I've reflected on it even more since, now that I have a better understanding of the things that I learned in therapy. (If you're puzzled and perplexed by the things you learn in therapy, even after therapy is done, don't lose hope--it takes time to absorb all of the cool knowledge we get there!) I didn't. At least not any major or conscious ones. It probably was one of the healthiest times of my life, because I don't remember thinking about food as something I had to manage as much as I did in other times of my life. I just ate. When I needed to, I ate. I remember having a pretty healthy and balanced diet. Very little extremes seemed to be happening at the time. And of course along with the good eating habits I had the activity from color guard, and that combination contributed to my body feeling pretty great all the time. There were no eating rules.
I learned how to eat at therapy the summer of 2018. It sounds dramatic, but it's true; I realized that summer that I really had not known how to eat for my whole life--or at least for the strong majority of it. That summer I learned the two major rules for eating that would lead to a happy and healthy me.
The first rule is that there can be absolutely no rules. I know it sounds so dumb and cliche, while simultaneously sounding out of the norm when talking about physical health, but this will be the most healthy eating rule you ever learn in your life. No eating rules allowed. None.
The second rule, which surely sounds crazy because I just said we can't have rules, is to eat a wide variety of things. Pairing this rule with the first puts the first eating rule a little more in context. When I say no eating rules, I mean you shouldn't put personal boundaries on what you aren't allowed to eat. (Like, keeping avoiding your food allergies, bros. I'm still not gonna eat avocado because I still get ill every time I do. Food restrictions for your own personal health reasons are allowed.) Have you quit eating sugar? Stop that! You need sugar! Don't put unnecessary limits on what you can and can't eat.
I hope this is making some semblance of sense. Let me elaborate a bit.
I don't remember if it was the same therapy session or not, but this was one that shook me to my core. My therapist was describing to me what normal and healthy hunger and eating is like. It is an entirely different world from what I was experiencing back then. She was talking about how frequently a body should feel hungry if it is eating normally (every two to three hours), and how periodically I should be eating full meals and snacks. At this point she described the variety in eating. She described different foods as parts of this eating habit. Different things I could eat as a snack. And then she said, "And for one day you could have a candy bar for a snack."
*cue brain explosion*
I was in absolute shock. This was a turning point for me. I could not believe it. Candy bars are unhealthy food--so you can't eat them, right?
Wrong. What is inherently wrong with a candy bar from time to time? Seriously, what? Nothing. It's okay to eat a wide variety of things.
When I realized that eating those things was okay, my entire life changed. I started looking at things so differently, and I started acting so differently. It is one of the things that helped me realize eating isn't a crime. It helped me start to branch out and put myself in less of a box.
As we continued our sessions, at the end of every meeting Penny would ask me about any other random eating thoughts I had. I would tell her what I was thinking and feeling at that time. And every response reinforced this idea.
"I've been feeling like I want to eat less oils lately," I'd say. " I feel like I've just been eating a lot of that and it makes me feel gross."
"I'm really glad you said you want to eat less and not that you want to stop eating it," she said. "It is perfectly fine to change your eating to make sure you are eating more balanced. But you don't want to restrict yourself from eating certain things."
I started using these rules as ways to figure out what I wanted to eat. When it was time for me to eat, I would think about what I had already eaten today. Okay, I've eaten a protein today and a fruit today. Maybe I can have a grain or a vegetable now. I would just think about what I had already eaten that day, and start thinking about what I could eat that wasn't one of those things. And when my mind fell across something I hadn't eaten yet that sounded good to my body, I would eat that. It was amazing.
So that's what I mean when I say there are no eating rules. The best way to eat is just listen to whatever your body is feeling at the time. Like in the above example: I felt like I was eating too much of one type of food, and my body didn't like it. I was starting to learn to listen, so I picked up on that. And ate less, not stopped eating it altogether. Whatever my body tells me do, I try to do it.
I know what you're thinking, because this is what people tell me so frequently when I bring up not having eating rules. "But Lizzo, if I didn't have eating rules and just ate whatever I felt like eating, I would just eat garbage all the time. I would never eat anything healthy." This is both true and false. I mean, as you learn to listen to your body this might be true initially. But if this is about listening to the way your body feels, this wouldn't be true forever. If you only eat high-sugar foods all day every day, you're going to get sick, and your body is going to demand you stop. It's going to demand you eat something else. As you learn to listen to how your body genuinely feels when you prepare to eat, you will eat what your body is really asking for. And sometimes that might be healthier foods and sometimes it might be unhealthier, but as long as you are listening to whatever your body is asking for in that moment, your body will be happy and healthy.

Here's the other thing I get all the time. If people are going on a no sugar diet or something similar, I'll tell them about how I don't have eating rules. And they'll laugh and tell me, "Well, Lizzo, you've been restricting your eating for years. I'm doing this because I've gone too long without eating rules!"
Woah, I didn't say no eating rules for just people that have had disordered eating issues. This is for everyone! Because it is based just on listening to the needs of your body. Have you been living without eating rules? Or have you internalized a culture that has convinced you eating is a sin? So maybe when you were eating what you want to (which remember is not inherently wrong), you were just feeling guilty about it because you thought you weren't supposed to. When there was actually nothing wrong.
I just want you all to know how loved and valuable you are. Particularly by me. The way I eat isn't special for me. I know it can be hard to wrap your mind around--trust me, I was there not long ago. But eating without rules is just normal eating. It just is. It is allowing yourself to just exist. Loves, you deserve to just exist. You deserve to not beat yourself up for being alive.
Thank you so much for being my strength as I've gone through all of these things in my life. I hope to be yours.
Feel free to ask any questions in the comments. Thanks and much love!

New Year, New Me

 Hello one and all!
I understand that it has been a really long time since I have written any content here, but wow, am I so happy to be here. It's very nice to write purely original content now that I am a fully settled civilian. As you surely know I have been very busy. Sometimes with moments that I was fighting anxiety with my life, sometimes just because I have a great job and great education. A new semester has begun, and I am more committed than ever to what I do. This fine semester I am taking script analysis; methods of teaching writing; intro to film; schools, society, and diversity; and foundations in education at the university, as well as foundations of the Restoration and choir at the religious institute. So as you can imagine, I am loving school right now. I am surely very busy as you understand. That along with the stress I was facing the past month has made it hard to get back on the blog. But now, I'm back! And even better, I have the next TWO months of blog content scheduled and planned, so I am so excited for that and all the amazing adventures we have coming our way. I am thriving! And genuinely so happy with the place I am at in life.

Today we start the second month of a new year--the year is young! Over the past month I have been having a lot of miscellaneous thoughts about the new year, or I guess the concept of being new in general. I've wanted to share them all with you, and I've compiled them into a single coherent thought right here.
A few weeks ago I was playing games with some roommates and friends. One of the games involved all of us reacting to different statements and prompts that we were sent to each of our phones, except for one of us who got nothing--that person was called the faker, and had to just pretend to know what was going on. To win the game, we all had to guess who the faker was.
Well, one round of this game I was the faker. Most of you know that I am pretty bad at faking things, but I of course still had to give it my best shot. For this particular round we were reacting facially to a bunch of different statements. As my friends read the statement they were sent, I stared at my phone and determined what face I would make. I decided on a gigantic, beaming smile.
When the time came, I grinned. I looked around at all my friends. They were all grimacing, or making some sort of dreary face.
The statement was then revealed. We were supposed to react with the face we make when it is Monday.
Everyone was really suspicious of me because I was the only one making a happy face. But I defended myself, saying that Monday is one of my favorite days of the week. Which was not a lie--that is actually true. And they could tell that was a genuine statement, so they let it slide that time. I did, however, get caught the very next round.
I know that I am in the strong minority by loving Mondays. But I really do, and I love Mondays for the same reason everyone loves a new year. Mondays are the start of a new week. It doesn't matter what last week looked like. It may have been the best week ever or it may have been absolute garbage. But regardless, Monday is the mark of a new week. This is a new opportunity to stay on top of my homework, to succeed at work, to connect with God on a better level, to love my friends and family, to to learn and create and become the best version of myself--and I would be lying if I said missionary emails weren't a significant contributor to my love for Mondays as well. Sure, there are times that it can be intimidating to face a whole new week of life, but most of the time it's exciting for me. This is an opportunity to do better than I did before.
I think that's why everyone loves a new year. It is a mark of change--it is something entirely new. I must say that a new year is not all the hype that people make it out to be, because it is not like a new year comes and everything automatically resets. In fact, I'm just gonna say it straight: nothing but the year magically resets when a new year comes. However, I think the thing we must remember that is actually special about this event is that something is new. Something is untainted and we have the ability to make it our own.
For me, the start of a new year also means the start of a new semester. That's what really brought these goals on, to be honest, but I think they made me more see the value of new year's resolutions, so consider me converted on that matter. I made some decisions for the semester in ways I want to do better. I of course set some homework goals, but I also set one for myself personally. I made a goal to just let myself be, to let myself exist in my own skin comfortably. One of the things that made my missionary service such an enjoyable experience is that for the first time in quite a long time (not always, of course; I won't say this was never a struggle for me) it was easy for me to be myself and feel comfortable just living as I am. Not only was it the first time in a long time like that, but there have been very few times in my life when that has actually been true. I'm sure you can imagine the dilemma it is being a quiet person with a loud personality. When the quiet person wins, the loud personality feels trapped and heartbroken because nobody truly knows and understands her. When the loud personality wins, the quiet person is highly embarrassed and laments why she has to be the way that she is. It has been a struggle living in this beautiful soul of mine. But when I truly let myself be myself, it is the best feeling. That was one of the things that made the mission so great, and here's what I have learned and have to continuously remind myself: the right people in life will be okay with that and make you feel good about that, and when it's hard for you to accept yourself as you are, they remind you that you should, and that they accept you as you are. And it won't even be a fight. When you have genuinely good people in your life, people that want you in their lives, you are not competing for attention. You are not trying to convince people of anything. (This can be a hard pill for me to swallow, because I have pretty much convinced myself that life is built of trying to manipulate your way to convincing people of things.) You don't trick people into loving you. People that want to be in your life will just be in your life. If they don't, that's fine. They don't deserve to be somewhere they don't want to be, and you don't deserve to beat yourself up every day trying to convince someone (to no avail--it NEVER works, EVER, and that will never change) that doesn't want to be there to stay.
With that said, I have decided that no matter what, it's time to break my comfort zone and just let myself exist in every moment, whether it's a moment I feel comfortable existing in or not. I want to start by making it clear that this has not been easy. There are still so many moments when I hide in the shell I've built for myself, times that I am paralyzed with fear and filled with overwhelming anxiety. But the point of goals isn't to be perfect immediately, but rather to improve over time. And I can genuinely say I've done that. Dear friends, I am happy to report that I have already seen such a success in this and it's only been one month, and it's such a joy to have this goal a few months after my missionary service because I know that experience definitely prepared me for this moment. I feel good being who I am (almost all the time) and letting people into my life. People say hi to me in the halls at school, and it makes me feel like the coolest person ever. I feel so much more comfortable smiling at people and helping others. I feel more comfortable looking dumb, which is HUGE for me, but I've decided I can make looking dumb look graceful. I make comments in class, comments that put myself out there and show how much I really love what I do, and I'm brave in class and try to act as I would, as I feel, as I am. And people respond to what I say so positively, because I am a person worth listening to, whether I've let myself believe that or not in the past. People introduce themselves to me before/after class. I feel so much more known and so much more loved and so much a part of this world that I was literally made to be a part of.  I still struggle, but that doesn't matter--that will always be true. But what is also true is that I have improved so much and really come into my own even more thus far this year.
Whatever your goals are for the new year, I believe in you. I know you can do this. And I implore you to remember the following: if your year started bad, remember that it is not the end--not the end of the year, and not the end of you. It is just the beginning of both. I have talked a lot about all of the joy I have experienced at the beginning of this new year, but I have also experienced unbelievably painful anxiety and grief--like literally, I was even shocked by how much it hurt and how long that pain could last. I actually have a track record in most of my adult civilian life starting with heartbreak. But I'm okay with that. New years are great opportunities to remember new moments, and the reality of the thing is that every moment can be a new moment. Years aren't the only things that start anew--months do, and days do, and hours do, and minutes do, and even seconds do. Think of all the countless opportunities we have to start again! It is truly a miracle. There is never a stopping point. It is never too late to turn back and to make yourself into who you truly want to be--and this is coming from a woman that has definitely had many points in her life when it seemed that my life was unfixable.
Many people choose a theme for the year in a phrase, word, or group of words. For me, I choose a theme of the year in song. I choose a song that is going to represent my mindset in the coming year. Here I'm formally announcing that my song of the year is "I Am Enough" by Cimorelli, and I think it very well encompasses my goal for the year. Inadequacies will always exist inside me, but that isn't going to kill me. It doesn't matter who is or isn't in my life. It doesn't matter what people think. It matters that I exist. EVERYONE is enough--we are children of a powerful God! That is awesome. That is so incredibly enough. That is amazing. And that is something that is independent--no one can change that. No one can take that away from you. That will remain true forever. I will always be enough due to that fact--as will everyone on this earth.
With that said, I've been thinking a lot about something else lately. I started this year feeling very weak. Circumstances that had me feeling very vulnerable and hurt and with a broken heart. But this was also a really awesome opportunity--it gave me the chance to recommit to relying on God. It helped me see how much I need Him, because I can take that for granted from time to time, when really every day I should cherish what a miracle that is. It gave me so much opportunity to learn about the strength behind weakness, because Jesus is the strength in us. So when we are weak, we are actually (if we choose to rely on the Lord) the strongest we will ever be. It only makes sense: Jesus asks us to bring to him "a broken heart and a contrite spirit" in sacrifice to Him--so is there really any other way to come to God than to be weak?
This thought has been bringing a new realization to me. Is being alive really about discovering that we are enough? Or is it really about realizing we are in fact not enough, and learning to be okay with that
The answer is definitely both. As I said, we are children of God, and that makes us enough. But we're definitely not enough on our own. We're not perfect. We make mistakes. But that's okay. "For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life." We are made whole through our Savior. We become enough through Him. What a joy! What a mercy! What a miracle!
So yes it's true, there's nothing wrong with saying we are enough, because it's true. But with this new realization and with being increasingly comfortable in my own skin, I'm just going to bask in not being enough and being perfectly fine with that for awhile.
I hope you all have a great rest of the new year.
Thanks and much love!