This Is Me

This past weekend I had the opportunity to go see the movie The Greatest Showman. It was, in my opinion, an amazing movie and I would highly recommend it to everyone. If you have not yet seen it I will try not to give away any spoilers but the story itself is truly captivating and extremely touching.

However, there is a particular song in there that really got to me. It’s the song called, This Is Me. If you’ve seen the movie you know what I’m talking about, but if you haven’t I’ll give you a quick rundown. In the movie the song is sung by the bearded lady (yes, a lady with a beard) and she simply talks about how she spent her life being ashamed of who she was and she was done with that. It’s truly a heart rending song.

The first few lines of the song go,

“I am not a stranger to the dark, hide away- they say, ‘cuz we don’t want your broken parts. I’ve learned to be ashamed of all my scars, run away-they say, no one’ll love you as you are...”  Later on she continues saying, “This is brave. This is bruised. This is who I’m meant to be. This is me.”

It’s an amazing song with such a powerful message.

And I remember sitting in the movie theater wanting to cry because how often have I been afraid and ashamed of who I am? How many times have I felt so broken that I thought there was no way anyone could ever love me as I am?

I’ve never been a super outgoing person. It takes me a long time to warm up to people and truly feel comfortable. I’ve always been the kind of person who sits in the back of the classroom or in the back of the church. I’ve always said it’s because I like keeping an eye on other people and because I don’t like the feeling of people watching me. But if I’m honest, the reason I stay in the back is because it’s easier to hide that way.

If people can’t see me then they won’t try to talk to me. I won’t have to be vulnerable. It’s easier to hide that way. Hide my sorrows, my scars, my mistakes. I mean, who could ever love the girl who used to cut herself? Who could ever love the girl who has struggled with depression her entire life? No. It’s much safer to hide. After all, if people don’t know who you are then they can’t judge you, right?

And I wonder if I’m not the only one who feels this way. The world can be a cruel place, full of judgement and hate and prejudice. The world doesn’t want broken people. It wants beautiful, perfect people living beautiful, perfect lives.

So we pretend. We put on a show. We hide. Don’t let anyone in. Don’t show the world your scars and your bruises and your mistakes. Nobody wants to see that.

But as Christians, is that the life God calls us to? To hide and be afraid and ashamed of who we are and what we’ve done? I don’t think so.

I remember when I first wanted to start this blog. I wanted to express myself, to step out of the shadows, so to speak. But honestly, I was terrified. I remember thinking to myself, “Why would anyone want to read or even care about what you have to say?” But I went ahead and put myself on the line anyway, voicing my opinions and being extremely vulnerable at times.

And the strangest thing happened. Instead of people running away in fear or throwing metaphorical tomatoes at me, people listened to me. With each new post I watched the number of readers rise.

Not only that but there were people who reached out to me and said they felt that same way, that they were going through the same things.

Whoa.

Because I had the courage to step out of my comfort zone, God showed me just how amazing it can be to be vulnerable and authentic.

And I wonder what would happen if we all did that? If we could all be brave enough to be authentic and in turn to love people as they come, not as we think they ought to be. Because at the end of the day we all have our bruises and scars, we’ve all made mistakes and we’ve all been hurt. And I bet everyone’s had that thought cross their mind, “How could anyone ever love me?”

But that’s just the thing. God calls us to love one another. He calls us to be a light in this dark world. And how can a light shine if it’s hidden under a basket?

So I pray that we can all learn to be authentic and real and love people regardless of their brokenness, that we would be who God has called us to be even when it’s hard.

I am not perfect. I have made mistakes. I’ve been hurt and rejected at times. I have scars, both physical and emotional. But I can’t let those moments define me. That’s not who God has called me to be.

I am brave. I am bruised. I am who I’m meant to be. This is me.

No Social Media - One Week In

January 7th my husband and I set out to essentially “fast” from social media, tv, and video games for 30 whole days!! (I know, crazy)

We’re a little over one week in and it’s crazy how much our lives have changed already. Both in ways that were expected and unexpected.

Suddenly, without the distraction of facebook or pinterest or whatever, I have time to workout. (yay.) My husband and I have been sitting down at the table to eat dinner, instead of in front of the tv. We play with Levi more and read books and spend more time in the word instead of zoning out on our phones. Our house has stayed cleaner! Because when you’re free from distractions you suddenly have time to keep your house clean. Funny how that works.

Going into this challenge I was a little worried that I might get lonely. After all, when you live far from home, like we do, facebook is one of the few ways you can stay connected to friends and family back home. But strangely enough I didn’t really feel that lonely at all.

In some ways, I actually felt less lonely. Here’s where the unexpected part comes in. I realized a very harsh and bitter truth about myself: I look to social media for approval.

GASP!!!

This challenge has been at times, very easy and yet very hard. Staying away from my phone wasn’t nearly as hard as I thought it might be. The hard part was realizing that I wanted to post things sheerly for the approval of others. I wanted people to see me in a good light. I often post cute and funny pictures of my son, so that people will think I’m a good mom. (how that makes sense I’m truly not sure) I want people to think I’m funny and nice and that I’ve got it all together!

But if I’m honest with myself; I definitely don’t have it all together. I only ever post the good parts of my life. I don’t post pictures of a sink full of dirty dishes, or a picture of my messy house. I don’t post that I feel lonely or that since Levi’s been born we eat way more fast food than ever before. And whether I post the good parts of my life to convince others or myself that I’ve got it all together, I really don’t know.

But I wonder if I’m not the only one. I wonder if other people scroll through facebook feeling like everyone has it together except them. Ouch. That’s a tough pill to swallow. And it’s hard not to feel inadequate when see that super fit girl posting a post-workout selfie. Or the mom who seems to have mastered motherhood, making homemade meals, taking her perfect angels to the park everyday, all the while volunteering at the homeless shelter. Okay, I exaggerate, but still. How many of us post things that make it look like we have it all together when really, maybe we don’t?

And it’s not that I think we need to post every hardship or every depressing thought that comes into our heads on facebook. I simply wonder if we spent less time on facebook and more time truly connecting with people, if we’d be a little less lonely. Less depressed. Less of a need to put your best face forward and convince the world that you’re superwoman (or man).

Real, authentic people who care about one another. I wonder what would happen….

The New Year as a Young Mom

           The past few days a lot of people have asked if I did anything fun to celebrate the New Year, to which I laughed and responded with, "No. I have a baby." But in all reality this New Year's one of the most special I've had the privilege of celebrating, and probably not for the reason you think.

You see, here’s the thing about becoming a parent; your life never really goes back to the way it was. Sure your life settles down eventually, you get into a rhythm and a routine, you learn the ins and outs of parenthood and find a new “normal”. But it’s never quite the same.

As a parent you suddenly find yourself devoting a good chunk of your time and energy to keep another sweet, adorable, sometimes seemingly possessed, little human being alive. You feed them, change them, lay them down for naps (or die trying). You soothe boo-boos and temper tantrums. You clean up vomit and blowouts and other messes resulting from bodily functions you didn’t even know about until you became a parent.

No. After you have kids your life is never the same. But it’s not just because of the endless pile of laundry you seem to have these days (who knew the tiniest person in the house could up the laundry exponentially?). It’s not because everywhere you go now you have to lug a giant car seat or corral a bunch of toddlers into your new, sweet, minivan. It’s not even because a new, little human changes the entire dynamic between you and your spouse.

The biggest thing that changes is that, in a way, your life is no longer your own. Somebody’s very life is placed into your hands. You literally have the power to shape someone’s entire existence, for better or worse. You nurture them and care for them and help them grow. It’s difficult and amazing and challenging and wonderful and at times… lonely.

There. I said it.

Because when you have kids, you give up nearly everything. And it’s worth it. SO worth it. But suddenly you have to make sacrifices and put someone’s needs before your own desires. It’s very similar to getting married, except that you’re marrying an adult who can (hopefully) take care of themselves and survive perfectly fine without you.

But when you have a baby they’re quite literally dependent on you for EVERYTHING. You sacrifice your sleep, your freetime, your hobbies, date nights, girls nights, showers, vacations, and much, much more.

And at times, it’s really, really hard.

And it’s made harder when you feel like no one else really gets it. You see, I didn’t really get a typical “teenage experience”. I started taking college classes at sixteen and got a job a few months later. Then I graduated, got engaged at eighteen, married at nineteen and after three months of marriage learned that I was pregnant.

It was exciting! And fun! We were having a baby! But here’s the thing about getting married young and having a baby, you kind of feel like the odd one out.

I’ve realized the past few months that a strange sort of resentment had been building up inside of me. My and husband and I don’t exactly fit the mold. College age students who are married with a baby are just not something you find much these days. Sure we have married friends with kids, but they’re several years older than us. And we have some younger friends who are married, but most of them aren’t ready to have a kids yet.

And then there are the friends who aren’t married at all. The ones who are going to school and traveling to other countries and having fun 21st birthday parties. Just living life and embracing their youth!

And sometimes I scroll through facebook and can’t help but feel like an outsider. Like I missed out somehow. I didn’t get to go to a university. I didn’t get to study abroad and travel. I didn’t get to have a fun night out with my friends for my 21st.

And to be honest it took me longer than it should have to realize what was going on. I was jealous. Jealous of the friends who can go wherever they wanted, whenever they wanted. Jealous of the friends who’ve decided to wait on kids and now get to travel with their friends or spouses. Jealous that they could sleep whenever they felt like it! (Seriously though. Sleep is a luxury these days.)

And when you’re one of the only people your age with kids it’s really easy to feel completely alone, like nobody gets it. After all, there’s a reason people are waiting to have kids. I realized I’d been begging some of my friends and family to have kids not because “It’s the best thing ever!” and “Levi needs friends and cousins!” but mostly because I didn’t want to feel so alone in motherhood.

Then it hit me the other day like a ton of bricks. After church my husband and I loaded up Levi and decided to go for a hike. We strapped Levi into his carrier and started walking. It was a beautiful day. A little cold, but the sun was shining and we hiked along the lake. And I realized, I loved my family.

I know, shocker.

      But it was more than just realizing my love for my family. I’ve always loved them. It was realizing that I loved them so much that I’d looked to them for complete fulfillment, when I should have been looking to God. I love my husband and my son. I wouldn’t trade them for anything. But they will never be enough for me. At the end of the day God is the only one who can truly fulfill me.

In that moment, it was as if he whispered into my heart, reminding me that I love the life he has given me, that he has placed me where I am for a reason.

God has placed me in my life as a wife and a mother. He hasn’t placed me in a big university. He hasn’t placed me overseas traveling. He hasn’t placed me at some party. He’s placed me right here, right now as a wife and mom. It’s tempting to feel like I missed out somehow. But if this is the life God has called me to, am I really missing out?

And later that night, while other people were ringing in the new year with parties and events and fireworks I was sitting in a rocking chair holding my sweet, sleepy, baby boy. And for the first time in along time I realized I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I'll Never Be A Good Enough Mom

Before I got married and had a child of my own I had this vision in my head of the kind of wife and mom I thought I’d be. I’d have a tastefully decorated house that I kept spic and span. I’d go grocery shopping and make delicious home-made meals. I’d do all of these fun extracurricular activities with my children and I’d have it all together! HA! Yeah right.

Obviously, I quickly learned that that would not be the case AT ALL! Shortly after we got married I got pregnant and had terrible morning sickness, to where I could not even step in the kitchen without having to run to the bathroom to throw up, let alone actually cook a meal! And then came the exhaustion. I’d come home from work and it was all I could do to just tidy up around the house before my feet started to hurt.

And then I actually had a baby. We won’t get into how difficult that is but any mom who has had a couple kids knows. You come home from the hospital in more pain than you’ve ever been in, more tired than you’ve ever been before and to top it off you now have more responsibility than you’ve ever had at any other point in your life. To say you’re a little stressed would be biggest understatement of all time probably.

So the months passed and I thought I’d get my act together. I thought I’d get my baby on a schedule, and while he slept I would clean and do laundry and wash the dishes. And then when he was awake I’d sing songs with him and read books and it would just fine and dandy. Except that’s not exactly what happened. Sure, some days I do get tons of stuff done and have bonding time with my little man but nine times out of ten that’s definitely not the case.

It seems like I have this never ending to-do list in my head. Vacuum the carpet, make the bed, do the dishes, fold the laundry, sweep the kitchen and then mop the kitchen, go buy groceries etc, etc, etc… The list never ends. Really. It never seems to end. For every one thing I check off, two more get added. It’s like Hydra. So when I look around my house and it looks like a crazy tornado swept through I feel like a complete and total failure.

And when this happens I begin to question my worth as a wife and a mom. I start saying things to myself like, “Wow, Levi and Alton deserve way better than me” or “Why is it so hard to simply do the dishes? I must be a bad mom.” The voices in my head are never kind. Never uplifting. Always dragging me down further and further. Telling me I’m not good enough, and I never will be. All because my house is messy.

Wait, what?

Yeah. I think I’m a bad wife and mom because I have dirty dishes.

Somehow, I truly believed this. And it really wasn’t until recently that I realized just how messed up and destructive this mentality is. And I know that I’m definitely not the only mom who has had these thoughts before. Crazy as it sounds it seems like we as women have taken it on ourselves to be Wonder Woman. We think we need to have a perfectly clean house, we need to be super involved in our kids lives and school activities, we need to be cooking and cleaning and working out and don’t forget to make sure you go to Whole Foods to get the healthiest food for your little ones otherwise you’re a "bad mom".

But it’s simply not true. These are the lies we as women have been fed most of our lives. Lies coming from our society, our families, and even sometimes the devil himself. But that’s just it. They’re LIES.

When I finally put this together I realized that I was finding my value and my worth in what I DO. And what I didn’t do. When I ran errands and cleaned the house and played with my son and worked out and put on cute clothes AND makeup and got a billion things done during the day I felt awesome. I did it. I've finally got the hang out of this mom thing. I’m so amazing.

And then the next day I wore the clothes that I slept in. I didn’t take a shower or brush my teeth. I spent half the day on the couch feeding my son and binge watching Netflix and not a single thing on my to-do list got done. And I felt awful. I’m definitely the worst mom on the planet. I can’t get it together. What’s wrong with me!?

And then my husband came home. Of course I apologized. I do every time.

“I’m so sorry! Nothing got done!”

“It’s okay. It will get done eventually.” He said.

It took awhile for it to really click. My husband still loves me. He’s not just gonna get rid of me just because our house is a little messy. He doesn’t have that old fashioned mentality. Instead, he says, “I love you. You’re a good wife and mom.” And then after a long day at work he gets up and helps clean the house.

If that’s not a beautiful picture of how Christ loves us then I don’t know what is. How often do we get worn down by life, attempting to do it all on our own, trying desperately to get our act together, only to fail. Time after time. And then Jesus comes alongside us and says, “I love you. I’ve got this. Lay your burden at my feet so that I may carry it.”

You see our value rests in not what we can do but what Christ has done through us. I think we tend to forget this and we set the standards for ourselves SO high. And we will NEVER be good enough on our own. Because when we try to be good enough, we find ourselves absolutely exhausted and staring into the face of failure. But thank the Lord our value does not rest in how clean our house is or whether or not we’re making healthy, homemade meals. I’d have been out of the running a LOOONG time ago.

Now I’m not saying you should never clean your house or even that you shouldn’t strive for a clean house, those are actually really good things. But that is not what makes you a good wife and mom.

Being a good wife and mom is not about keeping a spotless house. It’s not about spending hours in the kitchen slaving over homemade meals. It’s not about getting a million things done and desperately trying to be Super Mom. If that's your definition of a "good" mom then you will NEVER be a good enough mom. It won't happen. I will never be a good enough mom in that sense. But I do love my family, and that's worth more than anything.