Forced memories, archived thoughts

I was going through old Instagram stories I’d saved from 2018. I was so grateful at the end of that year for the group of women I was spending time with. I wrote things like, “the old is gone and forgotten” as if I wasn’t battling a painful rejection at the time. At the very moment I was speaking of being grateful and feeling blessed, I was anxiously waiting for someone I cared about to reach out, praying that he’d text me or call me. It took me a long time to get over the fact that he never did and I felt guilty for being so emotionally immature, attached to something that really never existed and unable to cherish the love that was no doubt surrounding me in my community group. I thought at the time, I was “solidifying incredible relationships” and that I’d “healed so much.” However, all I did was place huge bandaids over the gaping wounds that would only start to close back up a few years later. “Fellowship and eating, my favorite things.” That is how I ended that story, and at the time I really treasured those things. Meeting inspiring women and opening up about our lives and our dreams, praying, and having deep conversations was one of my favorite things to do. I loved church because it paved ways to small groups that made a big church feel small, and I invested so much in building meaningful connections that I thought would last a long time. For some people, they do. Sisters are found in groups like that, roommates, best friends, maids of honor, god mothers, and mentors. Amazing events are shared, life’s valleys are walked through together, and at the root of it all is the group that came together on a random weeknight to fellowship like Jesus and His disciples.

As much as I’ve disassociated from church, I miss it so much. I miss live worship and being able to sing at the top of my lungs, deep from my belly, moved by the presence of many with hands lifted high, and eyes straining to see the lyrics on a projector through tears of release and unburdening. I miss hearing a sermon I can shout out, “wow, yes, so good, and amen” to. I miss serving and supporting the leaders, breaking down the set and cleaning up the meeting place, stacking chairs and entering reports, being an active member of a real community. I miss the random brunches that led to long afternoons filled with laughter and stories shared over mediocre food in the area. I miss dressing up and wondering if there’ll be any cute guys in church that day. I miss awkwardly flirting with the guy in the cafe across the street. I miss the jokes and the drama and all the messy and stressful human elements that made being a church-goer dynamic and weirdly exciting.

I don’t have a dramatic story to tell. I stopped going to church when the pandemic hit, and I’ve yet to feel safe attending again. At first, I didn’t feel safe because of the virus that stopped 2020 in it’s tracks and dragged on into 2021, but then I didn’t feel safe because I felt like I barely knew anyone anymore. I couldn’t trust the very people who’d led me in groups or prayed over me when I needed it. I couldn’t tell if smiles were fake or forced, and I didn’t understand how after sharing secrets we wouldn’t tell our family or friends, we couldn’t be honest about what actually mattered to us. The check-ins lessened until an unspoken understanding was reached that things had changed and we’d never be the same. The lens with which I saw the church and its people was blurry and no matter how much I wiped, I simply couldn’t see through those lenses like I used to. I finally had to remove them and slip them into the place I put all my old pairs of glasses. Pairs that I once loved and needed and couldn’t see without, pairs that don’t match my current prescription. 

Looking at those Instagram stories, filmed not too long ago, took me through a memory lane I never thought would be laced with such complexity. I’m still grateful for that year, those people, and the lessons I learned, even the lessons I’m only learning now, in the present. I can look back at those smiles and written reflections and know I meant every word, I can remember every hope I had at the time and thank God for where I’ve arrived. I can finally move those stories and whatever is attached to them to the Recently Deleted, select all, and delete. It took a while, and I may find that those deletes are still swimming around in some cloud one day, but now I can actually mean what I said at the time: the old is gone and forgotten. I have healed so much, and I have indeed solidified the most incredible relationship – the one I have with myself.

“bruised but whole”

Finally, I can exhale the breath I took in on November 3rd, 2020. How is it that I can love and be invested so much in a country I wasn’t born and raised in? One would argue that it took over my birth country’s raising when I arrived as a 17 year old, naive and previously sheltered girl venturing into womanhood. It offered me top tier education and the chance to sow seeds and grow. It presented honest hard work and the hope of reaping a harvest, all while living through what some would argue are an adult’s most formative years.

Watching the ebbs and flows throughout the decade I’ve spent on this side of the world has taught me so much. I’ve been scared and lonely, free and hungry, curiosity fueling the adventures and opportunities I’ve jumped at. I found family and friends in strangers, I drew nearer to God – none of it linear but instead, a hodgepodge of yeses and no’s, welcoming and loathe, lost dreams and stunted growth, watered down encounters and fertilized hope.

I don’t know enough to assert opinions on policies and memorandums. Even if I did, I’ve never really felt I had the right to say much, if anything. Where does a visitor begin to critique their host’s home? All I know is that today was the first time in years that the excitement I had when I first arrived on America’s soil, reared its almost forgotten head. The speeches and songs shared today at the Inauguration of Joseph Biden as the 46th President of the USA, and of Kamala Harris as the First Woman Vice President, injected hope into my soul and what I imagine are the souls of many.

Who knows what the future holds? One can only commit to being the change we wish to see in our homes, in our communities and in this world. As President Biden stated, disagreeing doesn’t have to mean disunion. In a country filled with such diversity, including many visitors like myself, unity is the only thing that will help us all work through our disagreements. I hope the world can take note. It’s too farfetched to suggest leaders operate out of love, too romantic to ask that reconciliation take place between the oppressed and their oppressors. Yet still, we all carry on. The poet Amanda Gorman read, “We’ve learned that quiet isn’t always peace…somehow we weathered and…even as we grieved we grew, even as we hurt we hoped, even as we tired we tried…what shall be, a country that is bruised but whole.”

Congratulations America, and taking from the words of Amanda Gorman again, may you “merge mercy with might, and might with right.”

Restart Cycle

I’ve been struggling creatively, stuck in what feels like the most dense and impenetrable writer’s block. I haven’t touched a book in months; a few are left with two or three chapters to go, many more have been bought and borrowed and stacked on a shelf. If I’m being honest, and I’m only realizing this now as I type, I think it’s been hard for me to delve into someone else’s flow. I know some authors take years to write one book, and they may have all at some point experienced what I’m going through – a drought of sorts. Nonetheless, it’s been difficult swimming in others’ currents when my own rivers run dry. My heart yearns to create and my hands ache with this need to make, but it’s like my brain is sleepwalking, unable to send the signals my body needs to jolt it back to life and action.

Instead, I’ve been searching, asking myself questions like, “where is the dreamer in me, the reader, the writer, the sharer?” I haven’t been able to find her. I’m not sure if she’s asleep or hiding. Maybe she’s awake and this is her reality, a life she did not put on her 2020 Vision Board. I keep looking, my journals filled with more questions like, “where is the go-getter in me, the visionary, the lightbulb full of ideas?” She’d make week or month long challenges, just to push herself toward her goals. Month-long fitness trials, three-week fasts, ‘no social media’ days, one chapter a days…all in an effort to brush against the hem of the woman she wants to be.

I know they are still in me, all those things about myself I enjoy, but have not recently encountered. What keeps me hopeful is knowing that just like one can’t un-know what they know, I can’t un-see or un-dream or un-believe what I know is possible beyond anything I can imagine. I think everything has just been put on an involuntary pause, like a cycle in the drier that gets all tangled up and waits for you to come, unfold and restart the process of ironing out all the wrinkles, and separating from all the lint.

Well, I’ve come to pull the fitted sheet away from the duvet and throw them back in on cotton-extra dry. I’m even adding in another dryer sheet with a sweet scent and leaving the load alone because I trust that it’ll all get done; it just might take longer than I anticipated. The two week quarantine, turned months long social distancing, turned “We’ll be back in the Fall” turned “see you in 2021, hopefully”…that’s all done. This is the new normal, a reality I’m finally accepting as is, and not as an “until”.

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can; and the wisdom to know the difference.” – Reinhold Neibuhr

Something’s Gotta Give

“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and YOU WILL FIND REST FOR YOUR SOULS. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30 (NASB)

I’ve struggled with the idea of Jesus’ yoke being easy and His burden being light. How is being like Jesus in a world so corrupt and depraved an easy yoke? How can I be gentle when faced with so much prejudice and violence, whether it’s personally or encountering it through others’ experiences? How do I follow Jesus with a humble heart when so many people believe such horrible and heartless things about others, when we are all made in the image of God? How do I love and welcome those who refuse to acknowledge their ignorance and commit to unlearning painful ideologies that have been handed down through generations? This verse always eluded me because the cross Jesus carried didn’t seem easy or light either. The weight of the sins of this earth, the pain He endured from the people He asked God to forgive, and the cup he prayed to be taken from Him all seem very heavy-laden to me. And yet, He implores us to learn from Him and assures that we will find rest for our souls. The fact that I was so restless and weary showed me that I hadn’t come to the Father, I was not learning from Him, and I was focusing on the wrong things, and that became too heavy a burden to bear.

“In conclusion, brothers, focus your thoughts on what is true, noble, righteous, pure, lovable or admirable, on some virtue or on something praiseworthy. Keep doing what you have learned and received from me, what you have heard and seen me doing; then the God who gives shalom will be with you.” Philippians 4:8-9 (CJB)

How well was I living like Paul, doing what I’ve learned and received from his teachings, focusing on things that are noble, pure, or admirable? Was I focused on what was true, righteous and lovable, or was I focused on my frustrations and disdain at the state of the world and its people? How light can I expect the burden to be when I am not carrying the yoke of God, but the yoke of the world instead? Something has got to give, and it won’t be truth, it won’t be love, and it won’t be God.

I’ve come to find that the God who gives shalom, which in Hebrew means the condition of peace, serenity, harmony, wholeness, completeness, health and prosperity; the God who gives all of that will always be with me. However, I can’t experience the peace and wholeness He brings in a mental and spiritual state of despair or rage. I won’t find the completeness or prosperity in the views of people or respective sides of the arguments and fences. The health my body and spirit yearns for won’t be found scrolling through feeds on social media. Only God can fix everything, and He’ll do it through people, policies and reform, but I have to surrender and let Him guide me through the revolution we’re experiencing now. I have to be the one who hands over the reins because for too long, I have been trying to show up as a light in this world after spending hours scrolling through darkness. I’ve let my mind and my heart be filled with bitterness, scowling at the educated for not knowing better, and turning away from Christians for not loving better. I shake my fist at the heavens, angry at where we are now, still divided, with everyone’s opinions floating around screens, banners and posts.

I’d taken up the yoke of spreading information to combat misinformation, ramming what I think is right down people’s throats, but in order for me to take Jesus’ yoke upon myself, I have to lay my own down. Do I want to be right in a sea of wrong, or do I want to be a light, an ambassador of the Lord? If God’s light couldn’t permeate through my numbness and indifference, how was I supposed to light up the spaces I walk into? The only way to learn from Him is to make room in my mind and humble my heart to let God’s peace in. People finally “getting it” wasn’t going to bring me joy and peace, and people “not getting it” shouldn’t have taken it away in the first place. My hope should be in Christ alone, not the people (including myself) who often get it so wrong. The path to peace is focusing on what He tells me to: what is honorable and excellent, lovable and of high moral standards, or in short, virtue. I hope as I keep doing what I learn and receive from the teachings of Jesus and Paul, that I can experience the peace God gives. I hope that indeed, the yoke would be easy and the burden light, even as we face the tough and heavy seasons of this life.

It’s Now or Later

Who else is about three weeks late in getting started on their New Years’ resolutions? I know I am. I planned to hit the gym, put the credit card away and start meal prepping but almost a month into this decade, I’ve already overspent and over-eaten all the things on my ‘wish-I-didn’t-love-this’ list. Don’t you wish oat milk was 0 calories and drinking green tea was just as satisfying as a good brew of coffee? I know I do!

Forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what is ahead, let’s live in the truth that now is better than never and late is better than later. I think if we can share our intentions for the year, we can support one another and hold each other accountable in the quest toward the “new me, better me” years to follow so here are a few of mine:

1. Do more in New York City

One of the first things I learned in this city is that you’ll never get to do, taste or experience everything. This city is filled with so much, and many more things are constantly popping up (literally pop up museums, markets, food stalls and performances are everywhere). This city has unlimited resources to offer including plays and shows, food and culinary events, fashion and style, art and architecture, and community outreach. Rather than creating a list of 10 shows I’d like to see or 50 foods I’d like to try, I’m aiming to do a couple of New York-y things I haven’t tried yet and if I can handle trying more, I will.

2. Meditate

Sometimes I don’t have a prayer in me. I’ll lay on my back or turn everything off and just sit and embrace the silence that hovers above my noisy neighbors and the 7 train outside my window. I want to be intentional about having more of those moments and calming my mind. I often feel like if those times don’t end with a revelation or a lesson, then it was a waste of time but honestly, if I can set some time aside to just be still, I know I’ll have more clarity and more peace of mind.

3. Dress well

I’ve reached a point in my life where I want to be known for a certain style. For one of my friends, it’s her bold lip colors; for another friend, it’s his faded hair cut, for another it’s their meticulous acrylic nails. I look at magazines and style pages on Instagram and I will like, save, and screenshot outfits and overall “looks” that I admire, but when I shop, I rarely find anything promising for myself and if I do buy something “nice”, I never wear it because I’m “saving it for a special day” or I feel like I don’t actually know how to style that particular piece. A friend recently shared that when she shops, she pictures her wardrobe and if the item she’s thinking of buying doesn’t go with at least three different outfits, she doesn’t buy it. I’m thankful for that blueprint because when it comes to clothes, I always wish I had someone to guide me to pieces that flatter and complement me. I may not have the budget for a personal stylist, but soaking up some wisdom from my fashion forward friends is something I aim to do without envying them or giving up on myself.

4. Write

2 Blogs a month, journal weekly and put my thoughts on paper before blurting them out. This ties into my goal of speaking less and listening more. I’m guilty of listening to respond rather than to understand (although the pompous part of me is confident I can do both). I find that the majority of the pickles I’ve found myself in have been because I spoke to soon, spoke too much or spoke at all. I don’t need to question and debate everything I disagree with and I don’t need to throw my two cents in all the time. This year I want to become comfortable with walking away from conversations knowing that people think I agree with them even when I don’t, or think I’m an easy target because their jabs weren’t met with a verbal uppercut of my own. Talking a lot can unintentionally lead to tit-for-tat back-and-forths and I want to redirect myself and my words toward fruitfulness and peace.

5. Dance dance dance

I struggle with anxiety and insecurity and I always feel it the most in an intermediate or advanced level dance class. I watch everyone who is better trained, more experienced, and extra confident around me and instead of letting it fuel me, it messes with my head. I forget the choreography and I actually feel my body and my mind give up. My brain shuts down, my attitude grows sour and all of a sudden, I just want the class to be over so I can leave. Then, I look back and regret not pushing through, not giving my all to the parts of the choreography I did remember, and letting comparison steal my joy. I dance because I feel good doing it, I like moving and staying active, I love music and watching people express themselves through it, and I feel my youngest and liveliest when I’m shaking my butt to great tunes. My goal this year is to train harder, explore different studios and choreographers, and most of all, combat the negative thoughts by speaking life and truth over myself at the beginning of class, throughout the class and even after the class (saying things like, “that was hard but I loved this part” instead of “that was hard, what a complete fail.”)

There you have it: 5 goals I have for this year and I’m so interested in what everyone else’s goals are too! Share what your goals are in the comment section below:

How far have you gotten?

Have you even started?

If not, it’s ok! We can always begin again and again and again until we realize we’ve built the habits we know will strengthen our character and make our lives better. So, let’s get it, together!

What I learned from 12 months without drinking

At the end of 2018, I felt a tug in my spirit to give up drinking alcohol for a year. Call it a goal, call it an instruction from God, call it whatever you’d like but I knew that in order to see the fruits of the Spirit in my life, I needed to heed the call, no matter how weird I looked or felt doing it. I honestly didn’t think I’d make it because alcohol can be such a staple in our current ‘adulting’ millennial culture, whether it’s in happy hours with friends, mimosas with brunch, wine tasting in the summer, Oktoberfest, or just a regular night cap after a rough week. It’s something most of us do without thinking and without guilt because if we’re grown, we know our limits and know how to act and drink responsibly. For me, I learned how it can quickly turn into an unhealthy habit through stories and testimonies I heard from good people I related with, and I welcomed the lessons I’d learn through this 365-day journey of teetotalism. I thought I’d share a few of those lessons, revelations and personal truths and resolutions I arrived at, so here they are:

• A drunk mouth does not always share the thoughts of a sober mind. Sometimes, it changes it.

Yes, drinking releases the inhibitions that keep you from telling people what you really think but it also makes serious, sensitive topics a free-for-all in your mind and you’re unable to handle certain conversations as delicately as one should. It’s like playing telephone between your mind and your mouth; you think one thing and by the time it comes out of your mouth, it can be ruder and less kind or less relevant than it was when you were just “thinking it.”

 

• Drinking, especially in a city like New York, is literally overrated. It’s overpriced, overdone, and under-executed.

I can’t believe how much money I saved not ordering a cocktail at happy hour or something that pairs well with whatever I’m eating. Granted, I ate a lot less pasta this year because I truly enjoy having a glass of Merlot with a bowl of spaghetti bolognese, but I definitely didn’t need a glass of sweet, plum wine with every sushi dinner I ordered.

I also used to LIVE on boozy brunches; if there weren’t unlimited mimosas included, was it even brunch? Honestly, an extra $30 for weak, mediocre drinks is just not worth it to me anymore, and I’ve also decided not to spend unnecessary money on overpriced wine bars with selections of cheese I don’t even like. If I really want a wine and cheese night, then my girls and I can pitch in to create one, rather than paying $8 for every 3 bites of cheese and $14 for a glass of wine that costs more than an entire bottle of the same wine from the Trader Joe’s Wine Shop.

• People are a lot less cute without any liquid lenses.

When I tell you 2019 was the year of NO crushes, it actually makes me Laugh Out Loud because I can’t remember one time I went out this year and ‘Ubered’ home thinking I’d found ‘The One.’ It’s weird, and a completely unexpected revelation but I just wasn’t moved by anyone I saw out on these sober streets. Guys talking to me in bars, spittle spraying through their tipsy pick-up lines and efforts to flirt were just annoying and kind of gross. Instead, I’d find myself enthralled in deep conversations about the most random things with the one guy in the party who didn’t drink either. I’d be the one taking the boomerangs of friends taking shots or capturing them toasting with their cute matching drinks, and I was totally okay with it. It actually opened doors for me to see the people who quietly sit and observe everybody else, and I liked being one of the people observing with them, and not being one of the specimens being observed.

• Happy hours with coworkers sometimes force you into unwanted situations and conversations.

I spent a lot of time and money trying to bond with my coworkers, and the Friday night happy hours and birthday lunches only left my pockets emptier and my mind wondering why those relationships weren’t going anywhere. We’d have really fun evenings together, and the more people drank, the more personal stories they would share, which tricked my naive mind into thinking I was building friendships that would go beyond the Monday to Friday, 9 to 5. I welcomed the chance to save my coins and hear about the crazy stories on Monday mornings instead.

• Alcohol is not the only way to stay overweight.

Every time I fasted, I’d lose a ton of weight, and I was convinced that when I stopped drinking, the pounds would just fall off. I should have known that replacing a night cap with a soda, or a fruity cocktail with a virgin drink only replaced empty calories with more empty calories filled with more sugar. My skin didn’t thrive and I came to the sad conclusion that being a non-drinker didn’t make me healthier. Diet and lifestyle is something to view and approach as a whole, and changing just one thing may be helpful in starting a series of changes, but it usually won’t turn into a drastic improvement if one bad habit is simply replaced with another.

• Sleep is golden, and waking up feeling rested is much more likely without alcohol in your life.

Even though I didn’t drink to get drunk or wake up with a hangover after every night out, I still felt foggy or heavy after a glass or two of anything really. I didn’t even realize it until a month of not drinking went by and my energy was through the roof. I realized that yes, a restless night or headache here and there are normal but far less likely without alcohol involved. Stress and diet play a huge role in the quality of my sleep, but with no other significant changes in my life, I knew that not drinking really cleared my head, cleansed my body, and allowed me to experience real rest.

• And last myth-buster:  a drunk man does tell lies.

I don’t even know who came up with these fallacies because a drunk man can’t even keep what he’s saying straight. I’ve watched situations and stories be embellished at the very least and completely fabricated at the worst, so I know that being drunk isn’t some glorious truth serum. I’ve been embarrassed and ashamed by certain situations involving alcohol and you can chalk it up to being young and reckless, or taking the term YOLO way too far, but the mistakes and things I can’t take back have far outlasted the fun and amusement of the moment. I was glad that nothing I regret this year was a result of one too many drinks and I can look back on each heated conversation and sticky situation and be clear on where my responsibility lay and how I can do better.

 

Honestly, I see why God instructed me not to drink this year because chileee I was a HOT MESS and the funny thing is, I didn’t even know it! People ask me how I know God told me to give up drinking for a year and my answer has been that I certainly wouldn’t have made it through 365 days if it was up to me and my own power. The journey itself proved the source of it all so I learned to trust in Him and believe Him even though it didn’t make sense to me and most people. I know I only did this through His strength and I’m so grateful to have experienced this year being graced through something I was afraid was impossible for me to do. Don’t get me wrong, it hasn’t been all meek and holy. I’ve boasted to people who couldn’t believe my crazy, fun, litty self was completely sober during a crazy night out and I’ve liked knowing I did something most people scoffed at when I first mentioned doing it. I won’t lie, some days I only wanted to spite the people who laughed when I said I’m not drinking for a year and sometimes, that would be only thing that kept me going. God is still working on my heart y’all.

At the end of the day, this year showed me I can do everything I believe God has set out for me to do, even when I don’t always fully believe it. I felt the tug on my heart at the end of 2018 and expressed to my community group that this was something I was scared I wouldn’t succeed at. I was reminded by prayer warriors and sisters in Christ that I wouldn’t be striving to succeed at anything, but rather laying myself down to surrender and obedience, and that God would grace me through it. This thing I did – this weird and “how do you know God told you to do this” thing that I did, laid a massive foundation for me, a foundation for everything I’ve been dreaming of and believing for. It may not make sense to a lot of people but those who know me or know what it is to have a habit that may not necessarily be bad but is certainly not beneficial to your life, will understand what I mean.

2019 showed me that God still speaks and He likes for us to have a clear channel through which we can hear Him. It’s so much easier to hear what the Lord is saying when you’re not under the influence of anything, and when your life is open through obedience to something you didn’t even understand. I didn’t get why I needed this, and a lot of times I almost gave up because I thought it was pointless but I’m so thankful I had good people around me to encourage me to stick with it and follow through. Last year showed me that all things are indeed possible through Christ and I do have the will, and as long as it’s in God’s will, He will make the way.

Dating App Attempt #2 = FAIL

I deleted my Hinge account.

I honestly felt like checking the app and responding to the people I connected with was more of a chore than cleaning my stove top. After the 5th “hey, how are you, tell me about yourself,” I literally wanted to slip my phone into the unending crevice of my arm chair and forget that dating apps even exist.

Why was I even on Hinge?

• Because I thought by now I’d be married and talking about when to have our first child?

• Because I haven’t been on a date since 2015?

• Because I never see anyone in real life I am even remotely interested in?

What were my friends finding in dating apps that I couldn’t seem to even gently graze by?

My favorite relationship coach, Tony Gaskins, would talk about how he isn’t necessarily against online relationships. He just encourages his clients to form relationships off line where you can see and genuinely interact with the person. He says the men you find on those apps aren’t the men we [women who seek his help in particular] actually want, and in my experience, he has been SO right. I personally know someone who’d go on at least 3 first dates a week, to no avail at all, which absolutely proves his point, right?

Wrong. I actually know someone who got married earlier this year after being with her hinge match for 3 years. And if you thought that was just an exception, I even know someone who recently got engaged after being with her hinge match for two. And she’s not the only one! My good friend is getting married in just a few months to her awesome hinge match so I really couldn’t hold Mr. Gaskins’ advice and evidence in my life as absolute truth. Surely there must be treasures in the caves of dating apps, but were mine in there too? That’s the question I just couldn’t figure out until I stopped trying to figure it out.

THERE IS NO FORMULAAA *screaming it loud for the people in the back*

*nervously whispering to the people in the front* If there is a formula, I haven’t found it yet so please e-mail it to me.

It’s not that I gave up – I just didn’t feel keen on remaining on the app anymore. Once I was sure of that, I had to tackle the issue of how to end my conversations with all these matches. I began to tire myself wondering if leaving them on ‘read’ in the app was ghosting them. Half of my friends said, “Yes – honor the relationship and let them know you’re not interested anymore.” The other half said, “What relationship? Girl, he doesn’t even have your number. Say nothing, do nothing, just unmatch him!”

Well, I couldn’t bring myself to randomly unmatch people I’d just as randomly matched with, so I just deleted my account altogether and found myself in the same place I was before I downloaded it.

At the end of the day, most of my Christian friends will say that this single ‘season’ is an opportunity to grow closer to God, (what if this isn’t a season thooo?) travel whenever you want, (with what moneyyy thooo?) work on being the one for the one you want (oh gosh). My non-Christian friends on the other hand, will say this is the time to have fun and let loose before you settle down! (down WHERE tho?)

I guess I’m just tired of treating this time in my life as a pit-stop to somewhere else – marriage, kids, retirement. And I was even more tired of treating dating apps like the fuel that was going to get me ‘there’, if you know what I mean. Like ohhh, let’s stop here, and pick up this person and then we’ll finally arrive – which of course is just the way I personally processed it.

I’m happy for everyone having all the fun on all the apps, finding love, growing relationships and at the very least, some easy going networking (I would hope). And this isn’t me saying NEVER AGAIN to the apps. I just wanted to share where I am and why there was no longer a dating app on the phone in my hand as I remain there.

Thank you for reading! Share your thoughts with me and everyone else who may be interested in this topic.

Getting Unstuck

Recently, I got hit in the gut by feelings I forgot existed. After a couple of years of not really connecting with anyone on a romantic level, I fell for someone – hard. It was completely unexpected, and he was far from what I imagined myself ever being attracted to. I mean he was tall, handsome, charming, great smile, fit…he loved his family, was close to his parents, educated, full time job, active social life, loved working out…he listened to me, made me feel pretty, made me laugh, flirted with me…he took an interest in my interests, we talked about deep issues, joked about stupid stuff…he wasn’t the image I had in my head but it didn’t take much for him to win my heart so when I say I fell hard, I mean I can’t tell you what I cared about the day before I started caring deeply for him.

woah, it’s hard even writing about this now. [deep breath in…1…2…3…hold. exhale]

Anyway, it ended. It ended abruptly, it wasn’t ugly but it wasn’t amicable either. For a few months, I talked to him all day, every day, and then I had to get used to not talking to him. I had to miss him and fight the urge to text him or call him. I had to block him so I wouldn’t see if he was living his best life, and even worse, living it with someone else. I had to feel things I didn’t think I’d stop feeling – a familiar pain that reminded me why I hadn’t dated or invested myself in anyone since graduating from my Master’s program. Of course I’d had a few crushes, guys I had my eye on, and maybe even a night or two of blatant insecurity that resulted from blunt rejection, but it never got me down. I’d cry one night, pick myself up and keep it moving. But this one… let’s just say the fact that I can even articulate my feelings and not be crying all over my keyboard is a miracle in and of itself. The feelings aren’t there anymore but thinking about bumping into him, or stumbling onto anything that has to do with him still gives me so much anxiety that I had to mute and/or block anyone or anything that could remotely be connected with him. Basically, I had to get vigilant about guarding my heart.

I had to get vigilant about being honest with myself, and the people around me because the truth was I was far from who I thought I was: a confident woman not willing to compromise her standards, a strong individual who viewed a man as a perk and not a plan, a follower of Christ, full of purpose and passion, light, joy and peace. I realized I was stuck in this cycle of trying to be this wonder-woman, super-person who didn’t actually know what the heck was going on. I let a relationship fuel me to work out and be happy, which is a dangerous way to build yourself up because that relationship ending only means you crumble and are confronted with the fact that true self-love isn’t actually present.

I realized that although I’d been raised in a home full of love and laughter, I let my idea of love be shaped by what I saw on TV or, as of late, social media. I let my thoughts on success or happiness be heavily influenced by society rather than my family – an abstract perception rather than the tangible truth I had around me in the people who love and want the best for me. I let my values be watered down by what’s accepted by the majority and not what stills me spiritually and I saw myself staying stuck in this rut – not writing, not hoping, not feeling.

Part of getting unstuck included learning about real self love, and I’m still in that process of discovering what my inner self truly looks like. I’m strengthening that part of me that sticks to my standards even if it pulls me further into myself. I’m relearning how to be authentic and unapologetic about living in true happiness. I’m replacing the lies about myself with truth, even if I’m still working toward believing those truths – that I’m worthy of love, and beautiful, inside and out, and that I’ll be okay. I’m rededicating myself to not just loving or admiring, but actually following Christ. I am a wonder-woman but I can’t do or have it all, all at the same time and I won’t have it altogether all the time and that’s okay. Getting unstuck means admitting where I went wrong and allowing the painful experiences of life to teach me and help me grow thicker skin. At the end of the day, I think of all the advice I give to the people I love and I force myself to listen to me too – I force myself to pick one foot up and put it in front of the other and I remind my face to smile because it’s all good. I don’t think I’ll ever stop trying to get unstuck but the beauty is when you constantly have to rip something off, it starts to lose its grip and the same things that kept you stuck, no longer stick.

Up l8

So many drafts left unfinished, so many thoughts forgotten, unwritten. Endless dreams streaming through the mind, is it the brain or the heart that fuels them? How many more wishes untrue can we handle in this merciless, war-torn, loveless world? Who hopes these days anyway? Who actually believes? That a bluebird will still sing, that the firework will still pop a display of bright light when night is the only thing we know comes for sure. Not the moon or the stars but the dark.

tip tap tap top tap, rain drops on the window miles high in the sky; I wonder how long does it takes for them to hit the ground… when the clouds let go and give up… hello late musings, dry eyes, tired of the fight ’til 5, praying that this road is right, knowing no one else but Christ.

21-Day Daniel Fast

It has been a while since I’ve been able to post anything on this blog and I haven’t really been writing either. My last journal entry was in April of this year and when I realized that something I used to use to describe, or even somewhat define, me (writing) wasn’t a priority anymore, it made me question what was. Recently I’ve been immersed with watching old episodes of Law and Order: SVU, reading (The Sacred Search by Gary Thomas and The Keys by DJ Khaled), and figuring out where to steer my life toward so writing, typing, or recording thoughts hasn’t come as naturally to me as it used to. I feel like being in school encouraged me to write because I was always supposed to be writing something else (a paper, newsletter or application form) and when I procrastinated, I veered toward writing about myself (for private consumption) or inadvertently writing about faith (which this blog became mostly about). It’s never been intentional; I always imagined by blog turning into a lifestyle resource where people could scroll through for tips on any and every thing like every other blog in this oversaturated influence-sphere. I thought I’d start posting YouTube videos and up my Instagram game and it would all flow into this seamless online business that birthed a community and carried me through my twenties and into my future. Needless to say, a girl has fallen off the social media wagon in the sense that nothing I do online is as intentional as it used to be. My Snapchat used to be my space to be free and rant and make people laugh with my ridiculous antics, my Instagram was where I’d get deep and try to get featured on the Discovery page and my blog would serve as the place where young millennials walking with Christ and trying to live by faith could follow and relate to my issues regarding living with one foot in the world and one foot in the Word (something I discourage strongly – both feet should always be in the Word and jumping deeper into the love, grace and mercy of God). That said, I’ve come to see faith as a very personal thing, something that shouldn’t be shoved down anyone’s throat and something I, personally, should guard dearly. I believe in being bold for the sake of Christ but I’ve also learned that this Christian journey is different for everybody. I don’t always like that fact because I wish all Christians agreed on certain things and fought against other things together, I wish some Christians weren’t racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, bigoted or just downright mean. I wish some Christians weren’t more concerned with having a large congregation or tax breaks than preaching the truth as we read it in the Bible, and I wish holiness and righteousness was just as important as blessing and healing to us all. I wish many things for the church, my fellow believers and even myself and most of all, I wish I hadn’t starved my spirit and fed my flesh because that opened the door to so many things I have to work through internally and externally. The desire to live in God’s will, in His time, on His terms began to outweigh figuring out what makes me happy or how I should be living my life and as that desire got heavier, the need to fast became so apparent.

I just completed a 21 Day Daniel Fast and I’m still basking in this feat. First of all, I love food. I am a true foodie who will try anything and go anywhere just to taste and experience flavor and culture. Second of all, I am one of the least disciplined people I know. I procrastinate like it’s a habit, I love watching TV/YouTube/the internets – you name it, I watch it – and I have too many interests, to the point where I feel like there aren’t enough hours in the day to do all the things I love doing, so I pick the easiest thing (binging on Netflix and Hulu) and just do it forever. Lastly, my relationship with God has been in an “it’s complicated” stage for a couple of months – at least on my end. There was no real reason behind it; I think starting a 9-5 for the first time, living in a real apartment building for the first time, and paying bills for the first time just drew me away from what I used to know as the joys of life: a flexible schedule, learning what you love, exploring with friends on a regular basis and basically just being a big kid in an adult’s body. On top of that, I started dancing again so any time I did have, I used to attend fun, sweaty hip hop classes that continue to make me so happy. All in all, I was doing alright and I became one of those “I’ll call you when I need you” type of Christians, which I’m very embarrassed to admit. I fell off the praying, worshipping, and formal fellowshipping and as if that isn’t enough, I started to question the point of church as an organization (Low key: I still do, but that’s a post for another day). I just saw huge churches as another business, not necessarily trying to get rich but definitely concerned with making a profit in some way, shape or form and the hierarchies and cliques that form at large churches just irked the life out of me. If I did make it to church, I’d slip in near the end of worship, grab my phone when it’s time to say hi to someone new, and slip out right before the last prayer (High key: I still do that, but again – another post for another day). All of this didn’t necessarily pull me away from God but I guess we just spoke less and spent less time together. I knew He was there, I knew I needed Him daily but because I wasn’t at rock bottom, I didn’t think I had any reason to lay on my face before the Lord (RED FLAG: Any time you think you don’t need to lay on your face before the Lord, STOP. DO NOT PASS BEGIN. DO NOT COLLECT 2000) When I found myself at the edge of a familiar cliff, I had to reset. I knew I needed God but it was at this specific moment, about to fall into old habits I’d worked hard to quit, that I realized I need Him always, completely, and constantly, whether life is all over the place or not. I didn’t need a blessing or a breakthrough, no healing or revelation – I literally just needed Him. I needed God, I needed the Holy Spirit’s help and so I dragged a friend along with me into the Daniel Fast.

Now, was it easy? No.

Did I like it? No.

Did I hear God’s voice? No.

Did I gain a new revelation, a sign, a message, anything??? No.

Nothing spectacular happened. Seriously, no big fireworks, no light, no dream telling me anything special, nothing. However, on this day, knowing that I did something I never thought was possible – FAST – and an intense fast at that: No meat or animal product of any kind, no sugars or sweeteners of any kind, no yeast (So no bread…) no alcohol, no drink of any kind other than water, not even green or herbal tea, no coffee, no soda… I mean NADA. This was no joke! This was a proper fast, my first!

Now… did I slip up? Yes (I had whole wheat bread and a vegan dessert twice)

BUT did I lose weight? Yes (9.6 lbs to be exact and I pray I don’t gain it all back *fingers crossed*)

Did I feel good? Yes! (I felt incredible! My skin even cleared up – even around that time of the month, which is so rare for me, you don’t even understand!)

Did I get closer to God? Yes (He strengthened me throughout this entire fast – if it weren’t for His help, I definitely would have either quit this altogether or stumbled a lot more)

And did I grow in prayer? Yes (the whole point of this fast was to be steadfast in prayer and having the 21-day devotional to help me along was a great way to stick to praying and get back to my roots, hence me cracking open my journal and sitting down to write this post)

Now, I said I didn’t hear God’s voice but He spoke to me the entire time, through people I love, through sermons, through the devotionals, during my quiet time, through music. God really came through for me, even when I wasn’t interested, and there were times I was NOT interested. I had grumpy days, days when I was ready to quit, days when I was actually angry I was fasting. There were meals that sucked, events I didn’t enjoy because I couldn’t join in on the festivities fully BUT for every dish I tried that I hated, there were so many more things I tried and loved. NEWSFLASH: WE DON’T NEED MEAT! Don’t worry I’m not converted, I already celebrated getting through this fast with a nice boil style seafood feast (which is not recommended – this fast is truly taxing on the body, especially if you had unhealthy eating habits before so if you’re thinking of doing it, read a lot about it first and when you come out of it, ease back into your regular eating if you wish to go back to your regular eating habits; I’m just being a rebel). During this fast (mostly to keep myself from wanting to stumble and eat meat) I watched a lot of pro-plant-based diet videos and documentaries including the new craze on Netflix, What the Health. I must say, it was phenomenal and it made me question not only how much meat I eat but why I eat meat to begin with. It brought me back to what Jesus would want me to do in terms of food but I don’t feel a real conviction over the issue just yet (but I feel it coming so we’ll see). All in all, being on this fast forced me to explore and learn A LOT about myself, my relationship with food and what it takes to honor God with my decisions, including what I choose to ingest, when, where and how much of it. I tried vegan restaurants and recipes and enjoyed a lot of the different alternatives to animal products. I cleansed my body of a lot of the junk I’d been filling it with and 21 days later, I feel cleaner, lighter and more energetic than I’ve felt in a long, long time. I think God led me to this fast for many spiritual, relational and physical reasons and I’m thankful I made it through, not by my might but by His mighty power.

I recommend anyone at a standstill or roadblock, anyone lost or just wandering, anyone who’s at a “complicated” or unknown stage in their relationship with God (or self tbh), anyone who just feels meh or bleh about life, to take a chance, a 21 day chance (or 10 if you’re beginning or 40 if you’re an intermediate faster – I wish I’d started with the 10 btw). This fast, if nothing else, will clear your mind and set you on a healthier path, in my opinion. I’m glad I did it, and I’m a better me because of it. Above all else, I’m grateful for God’s faithfulness and the clarity, peace, and discipline I’m walking out of this fast with.