Mean People Sadden Me....

Why are people so ugly? I mean, I know there are b-holes just about everywhere you go, and I know they are usually insecure or bitter or hurting, but I just don't get it. I am really struggling with trying to get used to this fact because it is the most disheartening thing I have experienced in my adulthood. My Mama has always said that you can't change people, only yourself. That when a comment is made, you gotta take the truth from it (if there is any), use it to better yourself, then leave it. And I get the importance of that, but I'm not gonna lie. It hurts. It hurts like the dickens. Every glare, every roll of the eyes, every mean gesture feels like salt on a wound. Part of it is my insecurity. This I know. I am who God says I am so I should hold my head and be confident in that. But that's not the worst of it. The thing that really shakes my core is the fact that people are like this. That they feel like they have to be like this. Instead of saying I'm sad. Or I'm lonely. Or I'm insecure. Instead of sharing and letting someone bring them up, they wall their hearts and try and bring others down. What happened to people? I am terrified that there are more rude, bitter, ill-hearted people out there then there are loving, kind, selfless people. I'd like to say Christians are the rare specimen of decency but that isn't so. Not by a long shot. Ill-hearted people are everywhere. At work. In my apartment complex. At church. At the grocery store. At the bank. They are everywhere, and it scares me to death that my little girl or little boy will be raised in a world with such selfish, self-centered people. People looking to screw you over. People who wait for you to fail. People that would rather be mean to you for your success than congratulate you for your hard work. This saddens me beyond words. And I am daily attempting to come to terms with the way people are, but here's all I can do. Not be a part of it. Live above reproach. Don't get me wrong, I am the first to fire back an insult if one is thrown at me. Or call someone in tears so that they can validate that whatever some b-hole said or did to me is wrong and I am great and wonderful, blah blah blah. While this makes me feel better at the moment, it's not the way to overcome this. The way to deal with it is by acting like Jesus. He was insulted. He was betrayed. He was messed over. He was hated. He was spit on, and He held His head high and went about His merry. little way.

So this is what I am gonna try and remember next time I get insulted: The most brilliant being that has ever walked the face of the planet, the Son of God, was able to keep his mouth shut. He didn't find the need to bark back. He didn't have to. You know how He responded? He walked confidently in who He was. And that's precisely the way I need to handle the mean, b-holes I come across every single day. Act like Him. Live like Him. And respond like Him. Because I gotta say it's only gonna get worse.....And if I don't learn this lesson now, I'm gonna live a life in defeat and sadness.

What a Day....

Before I share my story I want to stress something to the millionth degree. I never thought I would get married. I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to more than anything but it felt hopeless. I had never even had a boyfriend prior to Andrew. I remember looking at an old picture where me and 10 girls were surrounded by a bride at a wedding and I was the only single girl in the picture. It felt terrible. I didn't trust that God would give me the desire of my heart. I felt like the rabbit who never got to the Trix. Abraham who never stepped foot into The Promised Land. I dated a little bit. I tried to make every guy "The One" in my head. I would envision the wedding, the whole bit, but it never played out. Then I stopped trying. I gain 100 pounds and go femi-Nazi, but I just lived life. Some people say you have to be perfect when you meet The One? Look good. Have it all together. Well, that 'aint true. I was in a weird place when I met Andrew. I had some issues with my church that had just split. I felt like God disappointed me in some areas so I was angry. To be honest, I was a bit lost. Then I met Andrew. And guess what? He wasn't the missing link to my soul. I didn't meet "The One" and then bam, life made sense! (Thank goodness!) When you fall in love, you still have problems! You still have fat days! You still have issues with your church split and with God that you have to work out. But guess what? God is a brilliant God. He didn't wire us to be filled completely by one person. He created us to be filled by Him. And though Andrew helped me want to work on some issues, he wasn't the answer to life's problems. He is simply icing on the cake. Because y'all....God takes the cake!

Enough rambling, here is my point. The fact that flawed, imperfect, talks too much me can find an incredible man like Andrew allows me to draw 2 conclusions. 1) God's a God of grace. I have failed and not trusted Him so many times, yet He went before me and gave me this wonderful gift anyway. I do not deserve such a gift, especially when other girls better than me have yet to receive it, so I bow my head in thanks. How amazing is His grace! and 2) If someone as imperfect as me can find someone as incredible as Andrew, anyone can!

I love the journey He has taken me on. And I know there's more to come, but my point for writing all this is to encourage girls out there to live! Live life like God has it for you. I am not God. I can't promise anything, but I know that I know that I know that He is faithful. He has a plan and I pray I can help people understand that Andrew, a huge house, perfect children, none of that is the answer. God is. So kick your heels off, put your feet up and rest in the fact that God has a plan. And a man! (That totally rhymes). Live life with wild abandonment!

Now here is the short version and some pictures of my proposal....

I am a CIA agent when it comes to surprises and my snooping and talking about it could have ruined everything if Andrew weren't so sweet and patient. He was determined to surprise me and make this special, no matter what. We flew to Knoxville for a wedding. The following day, me, Andrew, and Andrew's brother went to Cade's Cove to "take a Mother's Day' picture" in the mountains. Now mind you, I was in a bad mood because I hadn't gone #2 the entire time we were there and looked and felt pregnant! On the way there I even made a comment to Patrick that I was bummed because I checked Andrew's pockets and there was no sign of a ring! (Of course he told Andrew this....traitor!) Patrick pulled over for the picture and I was so enamored with the turkeys running around the field that I didn't even notice that Patrick was at a distance taking pictures. When I turned around, Andrew was on his knee. Y'all, he had been on his knee before and presented me with cuff links as a joke so I looked at Patrick as if to say "Is this for real?" When Andrew began to speak shakily, I knew. He was nervous and my heart was racing. It was so surreal! I don't know how other girls have felt in this moment, but I didn't cry. I was too shocked. It didn't sink in for awhile. I knew we would get married and that it was coming one day, but still....It was so surreal! My phone didn't work in the mountains for like 20 minutes so I stuck my head out the window and told every hiker that came by. It was perfect. We even celebrated at Taco Bell afterwards, my favorite. Andrew's family was waiting in the parking lot of Patrick's apartment complex. Andrew's Dad hugged me and said I had a glow. I told him yes, I was ecstatic but I was also glowing because Taco Bell had done its' job!

One More Thing.........I start writing in a journal and I told myself I would give it to my husband, along with a few letters I wrote. I love the idea that I was writing him letters and writing out prayers before I even met him.

(Notice the pre-Taco Bell stomach)

(I just love him!)

(So much that I forgot how much I weighed!)

(What a great day! I am so thankful!)

Why Women Love Edward Cullen....

Okay so Edward Cullen isn't that hot. I mean, if I were single I would definitely make out with him, but he isn't so hot that I'd give up my mortality, my soul. And let's face it. He eats Bambi for dinner. He's albino. He's socially awkward. I'm sorry, but if you just looked at him from a distance.... I don't think he would be qualified as smokin' hot! So my question is why every girl on the planet fell in love with him after reading and/or watching Twilight??? Why is it that we are able to look past the pale skin and the fact that he's a vampire and be so obsessed with him that we read and read and watch and watch Twilight? Why is it that my grown sister, who has 3 kids and no time for herself, saw the movie 5 times in the theater then pirated a copy on the Internet so that she could watch it some more??? I'll tell you why.....

Look at their intensity......

The way she looks at him.....

The protective way he watches her....

His intensity....

There's that look again.........

I'll tell you why every girl, including myself, is in love with Edward Cullen. Because of the way he loves Bella. Every single girl on the face of this earth wants to be loved like that. I mean truly loved. Edward is so protective of Bella. He can't get her off his mind. He doesn't watch TV. He writes her music. He doesn't ignore her because she talks too much. He watches her sleep! He loves her so much he wants to grow old with her, not make her like him so he can have her forever. He puts her soul first. They aren't physical. Their relationship is based on so much more than that. Bella isn't Carrie Bradshaw. She is homely and klutzy and Edward loves that about her. He doesn't try to change her. He just loves her. The way she is. The things she says. Her flaws. Her strengths. He loves the mess out of her. This is what girls want! We want to be loved to the core. And we want to be free to love back the way Bella loves Edward. I read in one of the Twilight series books that Bella wanted to spend every moment she could with Edward, forfeit sleep even, just so she could have more time with him. How many of us feel that way about the men in our life??? I'm sorry, but the whole vampire thing pales in comparison to the intensity of their love. The way he looks at her... Who doesn't want to be looked at like that? The way he rescues her time and time again....I'm sorry but as tough girl as try to be, I still want that! Who doesn't???? That's why women love Edward Cullen. He embodies what we all want. Someone to love us to our core. Not all of us are like Bella. I couldn't be more different than her, but just like her I want to be loved, rescued, understood, pursued and protected. And I'm sorry to generalize, but I think no matter who you are, what your type is, everyone, and I mean everyone, wants a love like that!

Relateable

So I went to this swanky yoga class the other day. When I arrived I was the only people that forgot my designer yoga mat and soy nuts. I looked around, with my TJ Max yoga mat in hand and noticed that everyone was pretty dang beautiful. People were talking amongst themselves so I took the liberty of eavesdropping. One lady had this beautiful Russian accent. She was talking to this chiseled man who had just returned from a yoga retreat in Hawaii. Then there was this gorgeous blonde who was half my size and was dressed so dang cute, even had on a perfect little headband that matched her yoga mat. Then there was I. Full because I had to eat something before yoga and clad in a wife beater tank top and pants I have had for years. As we started breathing in mountain pose my mind got to turnin'. I love yoga. LOVE IT! And no offense to the peeps in my $15 dollar class but you don't have to be a 100 pound, beautiful person who drinks green tea and eats of the earth to love it. You can eat at Taco Bell. You can have a big butt. You don't have to wear Juicy Couture to class. You can wear no makeup and opt not to do particular poses because they give you gas! Yes, they give me gas...probably the Taco Bell. Throughout my way too long yoga class tire yoga my brain was flooded with thoughts that brought me to my main point (And yes I have a main point). I WANT TO BE RELATEABLE. There is nothing wrong with being thin, beautiful, rich, vegan, etc. so I have to clarify that before I surrender to my epiphany. There's nothing wrong with being naturally brilliant or good at everything. I used to want to be that so badly. But then I submitted to the fact that God wants me relatable. Here's what I mean.

I am not the kind of girl who can put down a half of a Snickers bar down because I'm full. I can't imagine not wanting to eat a gallon of ice cream while watching Lifetime all Saturday. I am not good at sports. I had to study to make good grades. I look terrible in a bathing suit. I say the wrong thing often. I hate running more than life itself. I hate independent films. I don't appreciate modern art. I struggle with my weight. I don't wake up or step out of the shower naturally beautiful. I have had a billion cavities. I still get zits. I wear granny panties because the lacy ones are uncomfortable. I'd rather read a chic lit novel than something on Oprah's best seller list. I have cellulite and while exercising feels good, I would choose to be thin without having to do it. I probably will not lose baby weight just breast feeding.

All this to say is that I am not this close-to-perfect-good-at-everything kind of gal. I'm not saying this to cut myself down because I am good at some things. And I have accomplished a lot. What I'm saying is that I'm not this naturally talented envied person. For example: If you have a problem or suck at something....I can probably tell you I'm worse at it and not be lying. For the longest time I fought this. I wanted to not eat when I was upset. I wanted to look like a supermodel and when someone asked me what I did to look that good I'd say, "Oh, I just run after my kids!" I wanted to marry right out of college. live in a perfect home, have 2.5 kids and live like The Waltons. Well, here I am at 27. I'm not married. I don't love my current job. I'm not rich. I live in an apartment where I have to walk to the laundry room. My house and all my black clothes are covered in Boston's hair. I have love handles that didn't used to be there. I should probably wear Spanks but I get too claustrophobic. I want to run every morning but end up power walking at night sometimes. I don't have the perfect life I always wanted with the perfect job, perfect life, and perfect relationships. But I would not trade what I have for anything.

Why????? Because I am relateable. When a close friend is crying on my shoulder because she likes some loser jerk in the most unhealthy way, I can truly understand her heart. When a girlfriend calls me crying from the dressing room because she has cellulite, I can text her a picture of me in a bikini. When my friend texts me because she hasn't taken a dump that day, I can glady tell her when my last one was without turning red. When my gal pal calls me and tells me she no clue why God is kicking her when she is already down, I can read her excerpts from my journal to remind her of His faithfulness. When my good friend calls me crying because there is no man on earth for her, I can tell her the story of me and Andrew.

I am flawed. I have made many mistakes and I have gone down paths that I would have never picked on the front-end, but I know that I know that I know that God has made me who I am and taken me places so that I can truly relate to other broken people. I am clumsy, flabby, and pretty lousy at a lot of things but guess what.... I would not choose to be a size 0, marathon running, perfect human being for all the money in the world because I am exactly who I am supposed to be. I am relateable.

Nonblenders

I have never been a blender. You know, one of those people who fit in everywhere. Who drifts through life with everyone liking them. Someone agreeable who has opinions but is able to keep them to themselves. Someone who adapts to change without voicing emotion. Someone steady. Nope, that's never been me. Since childhood I was the kid who stood in the corner. Who was dating the popular kid at school yet at the same time was the only one not asked to someone's party. I was always left out. Let me rephrase that. I was purposely left out. Even after college, I was intentionally hurt by people. Like flat out the only one in a group of friends not asked along. Crap like that has always been a part of my life. My good friend once told me he has the attitude of "If you don't like me what's wrong with you?" I wish that I could believe that all the time because it's true. Blender or nonblender, we should all be beautiful people and truly know that if someone doesn't like us it's because they are insecure.

I'm starting to get why people are the way they are, though it still baffles me as to why they are the way they are. People are insanely insecure. I mean, insecure beyond normal. Normal insecurity I get. I have fat days. I have ugly, bad hair, I'm so stupid days. Who doesn't? I'm talking about the people that are so insecure that they find that their coping mechanism is to be downright cruel. I have seen the sweetest people with the kindest go from saint to mean girl in 2 seconds flat. And it's all about being threatened. I mean sometimes I think you should feel threatened. Like when Mean Girl called Animal Control on my baby boy. My hair stood up and my claws came out. And I believe it was warranted. Not right but a normal reaction. But this isn't the mean I'm talking about. I'm talking about the friend who betrays you because she's jealous of you. Or the friend that talks bad about you because she secretly envies you. Because they are out there. Usually blenders are able to keep order, usually, but nonblenders beware. Nonblenders are prey for this kind of cruelty. And no matter how strong a leader you are, it still hurts. It's excruciating.

I've always stood out. I've always been loud, opinionated, strong, different. I was a born leader. I advocate for the under dog and definitely stick up for what I believe. (Probably at times when I should confidently keep my mouth shut). People like me are either truly loved or truly hated. Some nonblenders are annoying. Some blenders are annoying. Too loud. Too quiet. Too opinionated. Too easy going. Too much. Not enough, whatever. Not that cruelty is ever okay, but some people are so kind hearted and so loving and would do anything for anybody and are still targets of the insecure. This to me is cruel beyond cruel.

I'll never forget this girl from my past. We were best friends for awhile. I mean so close, like Lucy and Ethel. Little by little she decided she didn't want to be friends anymore for whatever reason so she pulled away. I asked her about it multiple times, but she never voiced herself and I eventually let her go. Months went by and soon she was no longer in my life. Moreover, couldn't stand me. She had parties and didn't invite me. She told people things about me that weren't true. This girl was so cruel that it gutted me to the core. It was worse than a bad breakup. She would call every now and then when she needed something, but we have never gone back to where we were. She didn't even invite me to her wedding. Cruel people like that are insecure. They want something you have. They find the need to belittle and hate you because they are so grieved over something about themselves. It's uncalled for. It's unnecessary, but sadly, it's prevalent. Especially in my world.

I pray my little girl is a leader. I want her strong in her convictions. I want her confident and secure. I pray she is a better version of myself. And I want her to know that when some mean girl out there doesn't ask her to the social event of the year, it's because that girl is threatened. When some mean girl talks smack about my little girl, I want my sweet child to know that as much as it hurts it means she is doing something right. I'm gonna hold her and stroke her hair and cry with her. But when morning comes, I'm gonna remind her to hold her head high, not to retaliate and remember that if someone doesn't like her something must be wrong with them.

Does A+B = C????

A. I love Andrew Dafferner.
B. I can't stand backseat/passenger drivers.
C. I love when Andrew tells me how to drive.

A+B does NOT = C!

So there is always drama in the Huff-Dafferner love saga. Like every night. Maybe I'm bored or just a plain brat, but seriously there's never a dull moment. So last night Andrew was late about coming home from his softball game so by the time it was 7:30 I decided I wasn't waiting around any longer. Fat girl's gotta eat and girl power, you know? I called Andrew and he didn't answer so homeboy got left. Now mind you Andrew's car was in the parking lot, but it must have slipped my mind that that meant he was there. (Yeah, I'm smart.) When I was in the drive thru line Andrew calls and asks why I left him. Being the great girlfriend I am, I came back to get him and his arm was hurting him again so I drove. Andrew is just so sweet and helpful. He reminded me to get in the left lane, turn here, etc. What a guy! We ate our fast food and went on to Blockbuster to return a movie. My sweet man reminded me where every camera was at each light. He reminded me that my tail light was not working and to drive carefully. He told me, "Baby get in the turn lane!" and "When we have kids you are not eating while driving them." He told me not to turn around in the parking lot, to pull into a space and back out. That's when I parked the car and said, "I'm not driving." He got frustrated and said, "Start the car. I'm not driving," etc. Finally, I did what all mature 27 year old girls would do. I got out of the car and sat on the curb while finishing my ice cream. Andrew said nothing and I was getting cold, but I refused to give in. I started to walk home. Then I got scared with all the traffic so walked the block. (Meanwhile, Andrew has not made a peep). Then I went into Blockbuster and looked at every movie bin with a sale, every new release, every candy item for sale. ABout 30 minutes later I was tired. I marched right back to the car and placed myself in the driver's seat. Andrew looked up from his Iphone game (No wonder he didn't make a peep) and we both started laughing. We kissed and I drove off. He said nothing else the whole way home.

Monday night we decided to order a pizza. I was so excited by the time he came over and finished work I had ordered out half cheese/half pepperoni-pineapple pizza that would be delivered in 30 minutes. 45 passed and no pizza. Then it clicked.

"Baby, I think I gave them the wrong address."
"What address did you give them, Kim?"
"Yours?" I said sheepishly.
"What phone number did you give them, Kim?"
"Yours?" I said again.

Andrew made his way to his phone and sure enough, our pizza was delivered in 25 minutes to his apartment. He asked me to call them back, but I couldn't. I was too emmbarassed. Andrew called and offered to pick it up and they said it wouldn't be neceessary, they would re-deliver it to my apartment. When the pizza came, I ran upstairs in embarassment. Andrew acted annoyed all of 2 seconds and laughed. He laughed! He said it was hysterical.

Like I said, never a dull moment. And when we get married I pomise you there will be no surprises.

Miss Bates

Emma is one of my favorite movies of all time....if not my favorite. (Can you believe I've never read the book!) And Jane Austen is the bomb. She is brilliant. And before I go all into a dissertation on British Literature and how my girl Jane captures the socioeconomic trends of her time while also writing to a woman's soul, let me get to the point. There is a scene when Emma offends someone publicly in front of a large crowd of people. Emma is a sweet, sensitive character with a kind and helping heart, but she was in a bad mood and very annoyed with Miss Bates. Miss Bates is not mean and doesn't say anything ugly throughout the entire scene. She's just an annoying, insecure lady. Well at one point, Emma puts her down in front of the large group. She immediately feels bad because you can see the anguish n her face, but all the same she embarrasses Miss Bates. Well, after the scene Mr. Knightley (Emma's brother-in-law and best friend/love) lays into Emma and he says something so profound. First, he reminds Emma that Miss Bates is poor. That she is poorer than the day she was born and will continue sinking into poverty until the day she dies. Then he says, "your situation in every way being above hers should secure your compassion."

Think about that for a moment. Emma was upset because she was having some issues of her own. She was jealous of the attention Miss Bates' niece was getting. She felt left out and was annoyed with Miss Bates because seriously, she is extremely annoying. How many days am I in a bad mood because I feel fat? Tired? Jealous? Left out? And how many people do I know that are so dang annoying I would rather beat my head in with a hammer than hear speak. Well, Emma has one slip. One episode of mouth diarrhea, and I don't judge her for that. But she slipped and well, she offended this annoying yet precious lady that wouldn't hurt a fly. I love love love what Mr. Knightley says. And I think all of us could learn from it. Me especially.

I have quite a few Miss Bates in my life. Miss Bates but with a mean streak! I have a few that aren't even a fraction as sweet as she is and more annoying. Take Animal Control Girl for example. She is a loser. I'm sorry. I know that's ugly, but she went after my baby and for that I'm calling her a loser. Well, I was just told that she recently gained a lot of weight. And that her parents hate her fiance/boyfriend. Hate him to the point of coming in town to stay with her yet not even speaking to him. And I don't think she has much money. Now before you go feeling sorry for her, remember she has Animal Control's number on her speed dial! Actually, feel sorry for her because that's sad. And if you ask me her life sucks. I mean, she could change a few things, as could I, but all in all it's sad. My going off on her the other day felt great. And if you ask me she deserved it and more. But my situation being above hers in every area should have secured my compassion! I have a loving boyfriend who my parents talk to on the phone! I am not rich, but Andrew and I have plenty of money and will have more in years to come. I tend to fluctuate 5 or so pounds but have not gained 30 pounds and hopefully never will. My situation is better if you ask me, and I should have had more compassion. As Mr. Knightley says to Emma, "Badly done, Emma." Yeah, badly done, Kim.

I have another girl in my life that criticizes me a lot. I don't think she even knows she does it. She makes little comments that seriously make me wanna slap her. I could put her in her place. I could make her feel as small as she makes me feel, but this time I am choosing to focus on her situation. (You got me on a good week.) I'm sure I'll mess up. I'm sure I'll snap one day. To her or to some other Miss Bates in the future, but I am really going to try and focus on people's lives. In no way do I think it's ever okay to belittle someone. To make someone feel small out of insecurity, superiority, or whatever. It's wrong and I pray God puts people like that in their place. Me included! My point being it's okay to say something to stick up for yourself, to pull them aside and say "Enough!" But it's not okay to be like them. Because the world needs less people like them and more people willing to shush and remember that hurting people hurt people.

The Dork in Flats

I went to a banquet the other night called Miss Greek. Andrew and I were there to support our friend Lupita. Well, I came from work in my red pants and brown flats. For those of you who know me, you may already be thinking, "Kim???? Flats???" Yes. I've slowed the pace.(Notice the picture with my cardigan and pearls!) I'm even forgetting how to walk in pumps! It wasn't about 5 minutes that I could no longer resist. I had to take pictures. I made Lupita get up and pose with her sorority sisters. Then with her boyfriend. I got her at the table. I got her by the window. You name it. In the midst of my picture binge I looked over at Andrew who was grinning like a Cheshire cat. It's then that I realized that the tables have turned. I am the dorky girl with the camera! I immediately looked down at my feet. And I am the dork in flats! I looked around the room and there were all the 20 year old girls in their strapless dresses revealing their tanning bed tans. Their hair was bleached and flat ironed to perfection. They were all skinny, and their pumps were cool colors like electric blue and pink. What happened to me???? I looked down at myself to see that I was in a cardigan. I wasn't wearing big earings. I was wearing a simple necklace. I had on brown flats and my hair was pulled back. I looked down at my stomach and long and behold I had a bit of a pooch! Andrew laughed as he watched the wave of realization wash over me. I leaned over and said to him, "When did I become the dork with the camera?" He smiled like he always does when I say something stupid like that.

Will I wear pumps again? I'm sure I will. I even flat ironed my hair the next day, but you know what? I'm okay with the cardigan and flats on most days. I'm okay with the simple necklace and red pants. You know why I'm okay with that? Apart from the fact that I was able to eat cake because I wasn't wearing a tight dress, I don't have anything to prove. I can wear pumps and a tight dress because I want to, not because I have to. I was never really of those girls that dressed to compete, but I did feel some pressure way back when. Well not anymore! As Miss Greek continued on Friday night, I leaned back in my chair with Andrew's arm around me. I drank 3 glasses of tea, and I even ate a 2nd piece of cake!

Single

I wrote this a long time ago. When I was trying to figure out where I belonged in life. Right now, I have some amazing, beautiful, godly friends that are single. Now... being happily in love I can tell them that I KNOW that I KNOW that I KNOW their turn is coming because mine did. And I am the least deserving, least perfect person I know! But they are in a "What's wrong with me?" phase in life that I get. I wrote this before I met Andrew. Most people won't get this, but those that have been there or are there will and in all honesty, that's all I care to speak to on this subject.

I was in my room looking through old photo albums and it struck me. As I glanced at myself with my closest friends from all walks of life-grade school, high school, college- I suddenly realized that I’m the only one left. Everyone has moved on. Everyone has taken another name. Everyone has been chosen by some man. That is, everyone but me. At first I shook it off. After all, I have my entire life ahead of me. I’m young. I’m healthy. My opportunities are endless and being single makes me boundless. My married girlfriends envy my freedom, but even still, I can’t help but hurt. I don’t know what it is, but no matter how skinny I feel, how successful I get, no matter how cute I dress, and even how much I love Jesus, it still hurts. I could tell you a million reasons why it shouldn’t hurt, why I shouldn’t yearn for a thing, but it still hurts.
Some people tell me I’m wired to want a husband. That the reason I hurt is because God created a hole in my heart, a longing for a mate, a place waiting to be filled. Others tell me that my biological clock is ticking. It’s socially acceptable to want to raise a family and nurture another human soul. Some may even go as far as to say that women are created for marriage. God created Adam and Eve. God honors marriage. Two are better than one. But no matter what I’m told, no reason seems to hold up. And for the life in me, I don’t seem to buy it.
As I stared deeper into my picture, the stories came flooding back. There’s Suze, the girl who wore “I want to be married” on her forehead. Suze was always in a relationship. She was the girl who was always loved, was always adored, and was always noticed. Suze never learned to be content with Jesus, much less herself, but she never had to. Then there’s Melanie, the girl who shacked her way through college. The girl who transferred schools because she ran out of guys to date. I worried about her virtue, I prayed for her reputation and her safety. I guess those prayers were answered. Then there’s Vic, the girl who presented herself as my friend. The girl who dropped off the face of the earth whenever the male species was involved. And lastly, there was Kate, the girl who didn’t even go to church. The girl who pretended to love Jesus, the girl who was Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, even Buddhist for a while. It all depended on who the man in her life was. She married a pastor.
Please don’t misunderstand me, I love these girls. I would give my life for any of these girls, and I’d like to believe that they’d do the same for me. But my point is that they did it wrong. They all did it wrong. I waited and prayed and cried out to God night upon night. I went the prom with a good friend. I skipped the sorority formals. And I stood by each one of them in their perfect, Gatsby-esque weddings and I couldn’t help but think that they reaped the benefits of my discipline. As I look at this picture, I can’t help but become angry. Why am I still standing in the crowd begging to be seen? Why am I dying inside every time I watch someone else walk down the aisle and into matrimonial bliss?
If I could close myself off, I would. If I could make myself not want that, life would be so perfect. If I could just fast forward past all of this. If I could get to the part where the love fades away and everyone is content. I think I could handle that part. But not this part. This part is excruitiating. I used to pray that God would call me to Africa. Isn’t it best to be single when following God to foreign countries? “I’m here, Lord, send me,” I’d say. But He won’t. God won’t not let me run from this battle. This long, drawn out, exhaustingly, ridiculous battle that I’ve been fighting way too long.
Though I hate to admit it, the longer I fight, the more it makes sense. I am realizing that this is something I have to fight. It may seem so stupid to most people but those out there that feel as I do, it means the world. They get the fight. And hopefully, like me, they will get the reason behind the madness. You see, God doesn’t want me to escape this. He wants me to walk through this. Some days I think He is so cruel. Some days, like the day I picked up this picture, my stomach fell to my toes and I felt gutted. And betrayed. This is why sometimes I need some reminding. Some days, I want to throw in the towel and run like Jonah did. Some days I want to be in a big city partying away my pain. But as much as I try to run, I can’t seem to not trust God. Truth is, I don’t want to get swallowed by a whale. I don’t want to live all Sex and the City. And as ironic as this sounds, I don’t want to be married until I really get it. I don’t want anyone to see me until God works this out in me.
Some days I wake up so excited. I anticipate the day I turn the corner and bam, my life changes. The day I get that phone call that sends me to my knees in gratitude because finally, my turn has come. I can’t wait for that day. But strange as this sounds, I also crave these times with God. The days that life is so scary. The days that He looks down on me and tells me that He sees me. The days that he holds me. Sometimes I think I want to be loved too badly. Maybe I’d love someone too much. Or maybe God loves me too much. Maybe He doesn’t want to let go of me. So here I am. An insecure girl writing out her heart, hoping someone out there gets what I’m saying. And hoping they too can be encouraged, even on the hard days. Though I live a very blessed life, sometimes I’m just a girl doing her best to get through the day.
Sometimes I think my day will never come. But even if that were true, I know that I have everything I need. And some days, on the rare occasion, I am able to listen to the Holy Spirit tell me, “Am I not still God?” If I take a breath, stop my whining, and cease on the “Woe is me garbage,” I can actually feel Him. I can feel Him so intently that sometimes I take comfort in the fact that it’s in these lonely days like today that I am able to meet with Him. So I guess the question isn’t, “Will I have babies? Will I join the PTA? Or will I be a grandmother?” The question is, “Am I willing to follow God, even it’s down a path loneliness? Am I willing to give up life’s greatest blessing to have these moments, these precious moments where God literally touches my heart and tells me that He adores me, that He sees me, and that He is crazy for me? Am I willing to let this be enough?”
The answer is, “yes.”

How Flowers Saved My Relationship

Yesterday was a bad day. Wait. That's the understatement of the century. Yesterday sucked a big, fat toe. Sure there were reasons for my emotional outbursts. I mean, I woke up sad and angry, but it really was a crappy day. I know, I know, I could have made the best of it. But every now and then I like to feel sorry for myself. I woke up crying. I woke up mad at Andrew. I woke up not wanting to go to work. I woke up feeling ugly, mean, unimportant, you name it. I probably should have never woken up! Shortly after getting to work, I did what every selfish person in the world does when they're upset. I started lashing out at my loved one. It's Andrew's fault I moved to Texas. Away from a cush job with incredible opportunities. Away from my family and friends. Away from my awesome condo. Shame on me for moving here without him first proposing to me. by 9 am, I had started doing that psychotic thing he and every man in America hates. I blew him up with angry texts. Through tears I told him he can no longer sleep on my couch. (After all, why would he wanna marry me if I'm too available?) I told him I'm moving to Austin near my sister or back to Memphis. I told him I was so offended he hadn't proposed to me yet. I pretty much blamed him for my unhappiness. On the way home from work I laid into him. I have never screamed and cried like that to him in my life, but I did. I told him I'm miserable and that I guess I had to jump off the cliff for him to realize that. Then I hung up on him. When I got home I found flowers and a precious note. It was what I needed. The note revealed his love for me. It showed me that he loves me and wants the best for me, even if it meant moving. Even if it meant him being miserable (because he loves it here).

And that's all I needed. (He also left me a Ziploc bag with flowers that Belle had chewed up!) I needed to know I was loved. I went on a long walk and did some soul searching and came to a few realizations. I love Andrew. I love him so very much, and I don't want to break up with him. There is no one else for me (though he told me I could make out with my choice celebrity if given the opportunity). I can't imagine life without him, but at the same time I am meant for more than marriage. More than being a loving girlfriend. I have always felt called to be more and do more. I have always felt the need to change people's lives, and I can't do that when I'm turned so into myself. That's when I realized that the problem is me. It's all me. And if I love him, if I truly love him the way he loves me, I have to try harder. I have to try before I pack up my toys and leave the sandbox. I can find friends. (I joined a book club yesterday). I can make a point to go to Sunday School. Because a lot of this stems from me not prioritizing my relationship with the Lord. I am not filled by God so every day I have been walking over to Andrew with my huge barrel to be filled. I am not prioritizing exercise, and I need that. The problem is me.

Today may bite. The next week may bite, too. And I may try and try and I'm just not supposed to be here. The point is I am gonna try. Flowers and a note are just gestures. They are not the breaking or making point of a relationship. But they are exactly what I needed to wake me up from my self-pity trance. So stay tuned.....

What Kind Of A Guy?

Let me set the scene:
My house smelled like pee (Belle!!!). I felt fat. I was tired. I had blood running down my face because Belle mistook my nose for a chew toy. And I missed Memphis terribly.

Enter Andrew…
Poor guy never had a chance. He came at the wrong time. Mt. Kim had officially erupted. I won’t get into the details, but let’s just say that I used him as a punching bag. And my baby is no pushover. He doesn’t let me go off on him without speaking up for himself. But this time, he was silent. He said nothing. He cleaned the blood off my face and sat quietly on my couch. Meanwhile I went upstairs and cried in the closet. He didn’t shout anything at me. He didn’t even turn on the TV. He gave me quiet time. A few minutes later I heard him come up the stairs. He didn’t open the door to my safe place (probably because he was afraid he would get a stiletto in the eye). He didn’t scream a few things back at me (which I so deserved). He sat on my bed and played “Don’t Think I Can’t Love You” on his IPhone: So girl, I can't buy you a big diamond ring. No house on a hill full of life's finer things. And I'll tell you right now there's a whole lot that I just can't do. Oh, but baby, don't think I can't love you.

When I came out of the closet he told me to get dressed. He had fed the dogs and wanted to take me out. He held my hand while walking to the car. (He never holds my hand in the complex because technically he is at work). But he knew I needed it. And when he grabbed my hand I knew his intention. I can’t remember what we did for the next few hours, and it doesn’t really matter. All I know is I came back to my apartment happy. Did it still smell like pee? Yes. Did I still miss Memphis? Yes. But I didn’t care because I felt loved. And nothing….not a bad day, a huge cut under my eye (thanks Belle), a pee-smelling apartment…..nothing could shake me after that. Because he loved me to the core and that’s exactly what I needed.

WHAT KIND OF A GUY DOES THAT??? What kind of a guy lets you use them as a punching bag because they know deep down you may break if they put you in your place? When you’re clearly in the wrong, what kind of a guy says nothing when you attack them the moment they walk in the door? What kind of a guy shows you affection when you show him anger? What kind of a guy takes time to read your soul? What kind of a guy gives you time to cry without offering words you don’t want to hear right away? Maybe I’m asking the wrong question. Because obviously I know what kind of a guy does all these things. The question I need to be asking is why on God’s green earth would God bless the mess out of me by giving me this kind of a guy?

Leave Jessica Simpson Alone

I'm sorry, but is this fat?????

By now I'm sure you're aware of the scrutiny Jessica Simpson is getting over her weight gain. Apparently she performed at some Chili Cook off the other day and people can't stop talking about how "fat" she's gotten.

I don't know about you, but when I saw these pictures, it made me happy. She looks normal. No, she looks great! She looks like a girl in love. I never saw her as Daisy Duke, but I did see pictures and videos of her 2 hours a day/6 days a week/South Beach Diet body. She looked incredible! So incredible, in fact, that it made me kinda sick in the head. It made me want to modify my schedule so that I could workout like that. It made me want to eat stuff I don't like so that I could like that. And sadly, it made me feel like a fat cow. I'm a size 6. I shouldn't feel like that. If I were a size 12 it shouldn't make me feel like that because she isn't my standard. And she shouldn't feel like that either because because Hollywood stars and fat reporters (that sit behind their desks, eating donuts as they write crap like this) aren't her standard. I don't get Hollywood standards. I really don't. I don't get the obsession with spending hours away from family, starving yourself to fit some mold....to look like everybody else. And where do half these girls get the energy to even workout! I just wanna tell them guess what? You get hit by a car and I guaran-darn-te that you wish you ate pizza with your boyfriend the night before. And I guaran-darn-te you'd regret being rude to your loved one because your stomach hurts from hunger or your legs hurt from your 2 hours workout!

I found an article online at The New York Post that says, "Wow, Jessica Simpson looks as if she could be an offensive lineman for her quarterback boyfriend. A plump, jeans-busting Simpson stunned fans with her new bulky build over the weekend. Simpson, 28, has packed on some serious pounds in recent months..."

The article was written by David K. Li who writes for The New York Post. Well, I have been digging for pictures of this David Kid so I could report to y'all how radiant and good looking and svelte he is. I wanted to post his picture so we could put it on our refrigerators or under our pillows because homeboy must have been chiseled by God. Well y'all, I'm sad to report that I got nothing. I'm not gonna say anything ugly about this guy because I don't know him....and I like to sleep at night. But one can only reason that since I can't find one single picture of him and given the fact he has built a career on making fun of people...(Insert your own assumption here). Here's what he said today when he caught wind of Jessica Simpson's sister sticking up for her. "Ashlee Simpson is sticking up for her big - really big - sister." Dude, get a life. That about sums it up for me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm in no way endorsing we all start super sizing our fries and sit at home and watch Lifetime (though that could be a little fun!) And I'm not saying there's anything wrong with working to have a good body. A lot of stars get it right. Look at J Lo and Jennifer Garner and Fergie! I'm talking about the need, the sick need, to feel as if these girls are our standard. And for being defeated because we will never look like that. Confession: Sometimes I buy into the Hollywood thing and diet and exercise like a mad woman. I get all, I can look like her....I have to look like her! And you know what? I usually end up grumpy and light header from hunger. Then sometimes I go the other way and eat like a cow for a week, indulging in everything that comes my way because I will never look like that. "No thank you" are bad words. And I usually end up sluggish from the sugar overload and mean because I feel out of control. That's no way to live y'all! People that are a size 2 don't have perfect lives! What on God's green earth do we hope to accomplish with this!

What I'm talking about is balance. Balance! Watch your calories, diet if you have something you need to lose weight for. Exercise as much as you can. Eat healthily, but my jingle bells have a stinkin' piece of pie every now and then. I once heard Dr. Phil say something that has stuck with me for awhile. He said something to the effect of, "It's okay to have a piece of cake on your birthday. It's not okay to eat a whole cake on someone else's birthday!" That's the balance I'm talking about.

Y'all, we are not defined by what we eat. We aren't defined by anyone's opinion-even our husbands and boyfriends. We are responsible for how we feel. I think everyone should be as skinny as they want to be. If you feel good and can maintain a healthy lifestyle at a size 14 then more power to ya. If you love your size 4 figure and enjoy working hard to keep that then more power to ya too. But if you mull over your week's calories. Or slap yourself for having Mexican food with your gal pals then something ain't right. Size 0, size 6, size 20.... you should never be defined by this. Calories ingested and numbers on a scale are not litmus tests of our worth. Beauty is truly skin deep. And in the eye of the beholder. And when I see Jessica Simpson, I see a girl in love! And I understand that feeling. I love a guy who loves to eat. I eat fried chicken now. I eat real ice cream and it feels great. Now some days I have to cut him off and say, "I need healthy until my pants fit!" And he gets that.

Jessica Simpson looks great and it pains me to think that she's at home on her treadmill running until she can no longer stand. Or that someone out there is home from work because they had a "binge" last night and feel too fat to leave the house. I'm guilty of all of this, and as a woman I can attest that we need girls like Jessica Simpson to look at. Just like we need girlfriends that we can split chocolate cake with to keep us balanced. Because life is about balance. And it's about living to the fullest. Anyone of us could die in 5 minutes. And I don't know about you, but I'd like to go down with a full tummy....maybe even a tiny pooch!

My List

I know this is morbid but...people die. I'm gonna die. Like there is a 100% chance that I will die. It could be in 5 minutes. It could be in 50 years. My point being that:

1. You MUST know where you're going. I hate the whole Hollywood/TV thing where the loved one asks the dying person if they believe in God and they say respond, "I think so." Then they go into this long speech about going to church as a kid and you're supposed to think they're a good person, yada yada yada. Y'all I just I wanna hand them a Bible and say, "Honey, that's not good enough!" Because it's not. You have to know that you know that you know that Jesus Christ is the way. The only way.

2. You MUST always tell your loved ones that you love them. Even if you don't like them. Take this morning for example. I got mad at my mother, and she said I love you anyway. I'm sure she didn't want to because I made her mad. But she did. And I said I love you, too. I don't always do this. Shoot, sometimes...No, often, my pride gets in the way and I leave in a huff. Well shame on me. Another case in point: When Andrew falls asleep on my couch, and I'm mad at him when I leave for work. I should still say I love you. I know this. (Sorry babe. You know I do. But stop sleeping on my couch!) My point being that we should ALWAYS tell our loved ones that we love them. We should always treat our conversations as if they are our last. Even if we're mad.

3. You MUST live life to the fullest. I'm sorry. I can't stand people who say, "I just wanna go home to Jesus. Anytime. That's all I want. He can take me now." Don't get me wrong. I want that too. Of course I want that, but why not have both? Life a full life. Then die. Then go home to Jesus. Why not have your cake and eat it too! God created me to have human desires so forgive me for wanting to graduate. Go to Prom. Get married. Have sex. Have babies. You catch my drift?

All this being said, I encourage you to have a list. It doesn't have to be a physical, methodological list where you are all anal about checking stuff off. Just a loose list of things you MUST do before you die. Here are a few of mine....I may have left some stuff off. I may add a few, but here they are (in no particular order):

1. Write another book
2. Tour Jane Austen country
3. Have a child
4. Get married
5. Have sex
6. Go on a cruise
7. Go to Greece and Italy.
8. Run a half marathon (Jury's still out on if I'd even wanna run a full marathon. I'm thinkin' no right now.)
9. Surf (or attempt to)
10. Go to Africa (on missions and on a safari)
11. Rescue a dog (I actually just did this, but I had written my list prior to Belle)
12. Hang out with a celebrity
13. Have no debt (Don't panic Andrew. I only owe my Dad a few G's)
14. Swim with dolphins
15. Learn another language
16. Kiss Andrew on top of the Eiffel Tower...then sit with him at an outdoor cafe clad in a beret, while drinking espresso (Shut up y'all!)
17. Spend the night at The Plaza in NYC
18. Stay at a Haunted Hotel for a Murder Mystery weekend
19. Visit all 50 states (Maybe not all 50 states. Can't say I care about places like South Dakota. But Hawaii, Alaska, Washington, and places like that. Yeah buddy.)
20. Ride a Hot Air Balloon
21. Change someone's life for the better

Of course there are other things like milk a cow, ride a mechanical bull. And the obvious: watch my children get married. But seriously, I could go all day with this.)

Now I'm sure I have more but these are the ones that come to mind. Now go home or if you're already home, get up and get a piece of paper and start pondering these things.

Hollywood and Politics....a bad cocktail!

You know what's annoying....Hollywood. I will be the first to admit that I follow all the diets, love triangles, who is dating who and fashion in LaLa Land. I often visit popsugar.com and people.com. I love it. I am a hoe for it, but the whole Hollywood goes to Washington makes me wanna hurl my Wheaties. Take Jessica Alba for instance. I watched an interview with her yesterday, and I wanted to throw my tub of Ben and Jerry's at her. She was badgering some poor reporter because he refused to answer what he admired most about Obama. He was trying to do his job and the B list actress was in his face scolding him for not wanting to answer. What the crap! Stick to your bikini wearing movies with no plot and let the man do his job. I love stars like Jenny McCarthy who take a cause, like autism, and advocate and speak out. She's educated on the subject and has done so much for the cause. And Bono! He's the stinkin' man! But these little starlets that have diarrhea of the mouth and are oh so educated need to shut their pie holes. Like all these environmental activists who fly in their private jets on a weekly basis and use more electricity a month to heat their mansions then I do all year. Those are the people I'm talking about. Half of these Bush-is-an-idiot-and-ruined-our-economy freaks didn't even finish high school! Here's the deal Jessica Alba... When you graduate from Yale or Harvard at the top of your class, then you can call Bill O'Reilly a b-hole (she did that in the interview, too). Until then, stick to your starvation regimen, baby making and crap movies. Now don't get me wrong. I have no problem with people having opinions. Shoot, I have an opinion about having an opinion. I don't begrudge Ben Affleck for being liberal and having opposed views from mine. He's actually a pretty smart guy. What I am saying is to have an educated opinion, not just throw out insults. Or be hypocritical. How many "Green" celebrities flew to DC yesterday on a commercial airline? My point exactly. I'm not gonna go all crazy and boycott movies. Shoot, that would suck for me! All I'm saying is do what you do best and act. And if you wanna advocate, talk to Jenny McCarthy or Bono and learn how to not look like an idiot!