...for the Loved

Sunday marked the second week of the Naked Truth series given by Mariners Church.

As Pastor Mike Erre spoke truth into the lives of 200 or so 20-somethings, I started to believe what he was preaching.

I am loved.

I am adored.

I am worth so much more than society tells me I am.

Investing in the lives of junior high girls and being consumed by the jaded misconceptions social media brings about, I have fallen victim to witnessing and taking part in self-loathing.

I have told myself that I am not worth the wait; that I must compromise my morals in order for a boy to express some cold and disconnected form of affection towards me that seeps of guilt and lacks the warmth of true love.

I sat in that room and was overcome not by guilt or regret for past endeavors, but was filled with hope. As a circle of young men surrounded the women in the room to pray over us, I can truly say I felt deeply and madly loved.

Not by the tens of men I had no connection with, but by the image they represented.

This powerful action represented God's unwavering and strong love for not only me, but for every single girl battling society's misconstrued messages:

You need to lose weight.

You need to gain weight.

You need to show more skin.

You need to apply more makeup.

You are never going to be enough.

And we fight these critiques and succumb to some higher power; this worldly power that tells us we are never good enough.

And we deny the messages of the church and of the true higher power that builds us up, not tears us down.

I sat there and as I was being prayed over, I was brought to the thought of my junior high girls. They go to school each day and are preparing themselves for battle. They are told they are ugly. They are told to wear more makeup. They are told to dress a certain way and say certain words in order to be loved by some boy who will give them the short-term attention they are vying for.

I thought of the string of preteens posting videos on Youtube asking unknown users, "am I pretty?"

I thought of the self-loathing and self-destruction I have put myself through and have watched others do the same and said to myself that this has to stop.

So I sit here today and think about the future. I think about the hopes I have and the love I deserve.

I deserve to be told I am pretty without having to ask.

I deserve to be pursued rather than be the girl seeking out attention.

I deserve to find a man who is so madly in love with me that he sees me for who I am, not for who I am not.

I deserve what every other girl deserves; to be loved.

To be truly and joyfully loved.

Because girls, we are wonderfully and fearfully made.

There needs to be a community that fights and opposes the world's harsh views. The question is, who's with me?

...for the Carefree

Ray Bans on with my hair blowing in the wind, my Sperry top siders rested on the dashboard as I glanced past my denim vest and long white skirt reflected in the window. We were headed to San Diego and with the perfect Blink182 playlist, I felt free. Friday afternoon marked the start to what would have been the introduction to my own low budget Sundance film. A movie about college students and an unforgettable weekend, centered around a girl who traveled down the coast in search for something new; new friends, new adventures, and the excitement of finding new music.

We arrived in San Diego and made our way to Soma, the venue painted in black; its only accessory a winding line of teenagers huddled together, wildly anticipating the bands they came to see. Once we made it through the line and past the bouncers, the three of us exchanged smiles and all at once stepped inside the room that held the main stage. Hundreds of bodies filled the venue and we joined the crowds of unfamiliar faces, most covered in brightly colored face paint in support of the opening act. Walk the Moon started the night off with their hit Anna Sun, the lyrics expressing the emotions we all felt but couldn't pinpoint on our own...

"My feet are still sore; my back is on the fringes

We were up against the wall on the west mezzanine
We rattle this town, we rattle this scene"

All at once we were jumping to the beat, grabbing onto whatever hand was closest to share in the beats with. The Ohio natives finished their set and we took a minute to reflect on what we were experiencing. Because yes, this was a concert but this was also so much more. Every person in the room shared the same purpose, the same love for the night. We all came here to share in one experience together, all to feel like something bigger than just concert goers.

The music drew us in but the people kept us there.

Young the Giant killed it and we found Irvine locals to admire their success with, all of us secretly proud we share mutual friends with the up and coming band. The songs played loud and our voices strained to match and as the night went on, insecurities left the room as well. Those who came alone no longer stood alone and those who stood stiff found themselves dancing in sync with the people around them. I tossed my head back and forth and let my arms move as they pleased as my feet danced in the circle of space that I had. It was time for the last song and you could feel the energy rise as we awaited those final moments together. People started crowd surfing and all in one instance a large gap opened up. We rushed the stage and as the chorus blasted, we jumped. All inhibitions we may have been clinging onto were stomped away and lifted high from the crowd as our arms reached toward the ceiling.

This was it. This was the moment all of us were craving.

We came to be apart of a movement, to be apart of a journey the bands would take us on and lead us through so we could escape our lives for just a moment. In that instance, all we had was each other. All we had was our hearts that perfectly aligned if only for a song or two. Driving back home sound bites took up the space in my head as I was sucked back into the vibrations of wall to wall music. My feet were aching and I could feel the stiffness in my legs as they familiarized themselves with what it felt like to sit down. My neck ached in a few key spots but the smile still clung to my face, so reluctant to leave the night behind.

I found what I was in desperate search of this weekend.

I wasn't just a concert goer for a two nights in a row.

I was a lovesick fan who shared a smile onstage with the lead singer of Twin Atlantic.

I was a college student who took a weekend road trip to support a local band.

I was a girl who found the adventure she was looking for and I found it in the music.

I was part of something bigger than just a concert, I was part of a journey only we in those rooms could experience together.

I was carefree.

...for the Anticipator

You know that feeling you get when you walk out of the house, lock the door behind you, and step into your car only to feel like something is missing?

Or what about when you're putting an outfit together and the only thing missing is your favorite ring you seemed to have misplaced?

Possibly even that moment when you're eating your favorite meal but something just seems different? Like no matter how much salt you add or how differently you cut whatever is on your plate, it just doesn't taste the way you know it to be?

That's how I could describe my everyday emotions right now.

I check my purse and pockets for missing keys, but they're still there.

I search high and low, behind my bed and under my dresser for my ring but I know it's gone, having slipped off my finger sometime during the hustle and bustle of my busy day.

I keep eating that meal, telling myself just one more bite until it tastes the same again, but sure enough I reach the end and all that's left is an empty plate that held a mediocre meal.

The absence of people I love feels similar to that. The absence of my friends away at school is hard, but easy to handle because I know the exact date and the exact time I will see them again. But the absence of a friend I may share a rocky relationship with is practically unbearable. I can't predict the time I will see them again or their arrival back into my life. It is all up in the air and it seems as though nothing can bring it back down to where I stand. I feel like something is missing and over the past few days it didn't quite hit me just how bare I felt until today. I have been walking around on autopilot racking my brain for reasons why I feel this way; Did I forget to turn in an assignment?; Am I missing an appointment? Nothing added up and as much as I pushed it further and further to the back of my mind, the answer found its way to the front of my thoughts.

What I was missing was a familiar face.

I was missing a weekly text message conversation about our weeks.

I was missing adventures and study sessions.

I was missing something so familiar to me, something so routine that it took a while to realize the impact it really had in my life.

I am eagerly anticipating the arrival of my friends away at school. I cannot wait to ninja jump/bear hug them with so much excitement and built up love to share. I cannot wait to hear about their new friends and lives and all that they have experienced. I cannot wait to just sit around and do nothing with them because the presence of them alone is enough to make my day.

I am anxiously anticipating the next step I must take in bettering the current state of a missed and loved friendship. I am scared to delve into recent moments and figure out exactly what went awry. It makes me nervous to think of what words need to be exchanged and it makes my heart heavy when I think of how many hugs I have to catch up on.

I hope I am alone in the latter of my current anticipations, but I know there are too many of us to all be content at the same exact time. For those of us who are left with an empty plate and are racking our brains for the missing ingredient, I hope we can all change that anxiety to excitement.

So those of you experiencing an absence in your life, whether it be a friendship, guidance, or even just answers, I challenge you today.

I challenge you to find those thoughts ruminating in the back of your mind and pull them to the front of the line.

I challenge you to delve deeper into this absence filling your days and turn a mediocre meal into a delicious entree.

...for the Story Tellers

There are a significant amount of things in my life that I don't have full control over and they all became apparent to me today.

Power walking is a regular pace I take while passing through Bloomingdales simply because I can't afford a large portion of the store, so why peruse when it only teases me? Speeding towards the escalator to find the jeans section to finally spend my graduation money, I was taken back by how suddenly my body jolted into a halt in front of the David Yurman counter as my eyes landed on the beautifully crafted rings on display. I was asked if I wanted to try one on and without protest, I let out a faint yes. As I slipped the ring onto my finger it occurred to me in that moment that I wanted to be able to browse through Bloomingdales. No longer do I wish to walk into the store with a pre-planned agenda or a B-line past the glass boxes that encase the artwork most would call over priced jewelry. But the current state in which I am living in as a full time student with two less-than-part-time jobs, those luxuries are ones that I cannot attain at the moment. I know that I do not have control over my current "spending" financial state, partially due to my lack of ability to properly save, and that sacrifices must be made in order to get to a place in life where nice things are purchasable and living debt-free, stress-free, and below my means is only a chapter in my life that has been read and left behind to continue reading the rest of the novel.

Yet, in those dog-eared pages with creases, coffee stains and highlighted words, I find more uncontrollable short stories. I find not only trips to Bloomingdales, but paragraph after paragraph of car issues detailing broken headlights, rust colored radiator stains outlining the parking space of 24 hour fitness and accounts of being stranded in one city too many.

Then I come to the water-stained pages worn thin and familiar, almost in memory because they have been visited so frequently. Those pages are filled with heart break and regret, loss and heart ache, trickled ever so sparsely with smiles and embraces, long talks and perfect moments of silence.I know that just in the way I do not have full control over being able to purchase a $900 ring, I do not have control over the present-day decisions made by past crushes, lovers, likers, you name it. We have all been there. We are writing our story with someone and then one day, something changes. Some people fall out of love while others are forced out of it. People move on, move away, move past the past and onto the future and while only some will admit to it, we all can agree that erasing that person from your next chapter is easier than erasing them from your rough drafts. No matter how big of an absence that character makes, your mind will always add in a few extra "what if" sentences.

What if that conversation never happened.

What if that fight never occurred.

What if we pushed through rather than pulled away.

What if, what if, what if.

And they consume you, making you realize that you have no control over who they want to date or pursue because they are the authors of the next chapter in their book, not you.

Although I may not have control over my financial state; being able to splurge on lavish items or purchase a reliable car, or even have control over the relationships around me, I always have control over how I can change the world. Whether people say I do or do not. Today I realized that there were many things out of my control that I would just have to settle for. With that though, I remember that I never have to settle with the current state of our world. I never have to look across the room and see a room full of people who are going to remain stagnant. I have not only the ability but the calling to change the world and if I can't control almost everything else in my life, you can bet that I will have control over this.

We as a community of people are constantly faced with challenges and opposition and although they take the face of barriers, they are here to act as pieces of a better story. See, without conflict, we would all be writing cut and paste picture books instead of the timeless masterpieces we are intended to craft. Conflict surrounds us daily. In our homes, schools, workplaces. Citywide, nationwide, and globally. I see the conflict arise around me and see that something must be written in order to stop the enemy from winning.

So, I challenge you today. Push aside the uncontrollable short stories and turn the page to start reading about the conflict you have the ability to beat.

As an 18 year old girl with untamed curls, a broken down car, and a bank account that hold nothing close to a David Yurman purchase, I am confident in the fact that I am in control. I will change the world one chapter at a time and will not stop until darkness can no longer be found. I will be the light to shine in the fluorescent-lit Walmarts filling suburbia where any other light is suppressed. I will be the light to shine along side the sun beating down across playgrounds, quads, hallways and classrooms. I will be the light to shine where darkness is the only thing people know. Where will you be a light? Where will you change the world?

Don't ever tell yourself you cannot make a change, because amidst uncontrollable situations, we always have the potential to control our impact on the world.

...for the Stagnant

I started my first week of classes this past Monday, and while I would love to say I was going through the hustle and bustle of finding those classes spread out far and wide around campus, I was merely down the road at IVC.

Nearly all of my friends have left for college and I really thought I was fine until I logged onto Facebook. Status after status and wall post after wall post about new roommates, freshman year activities and new faces they see each day have left me feeling alone and stagnant.

Unlike my friends who get to experience the excitement of moving out and onto a whole new journey, I've continued living at home, bumping into the familiar faces of high school.

Don't get me wrong, I am so excited for all that my friends get to experience, and although I know this stay at IVC was the best for me right now, I can't help but feeling like this isn't where I should be.

I always thought my freshman year would be spent at a University and that going to Bed Bath and Beyond would be a given. I never expected to spend a year at a community college before heading off on my own. I never expected to be the one friend that stayed behind, watching as everyone else started new. I always told myself IVC wasn't for me. I always told myself I wouldn't let that happen.

I walked into my first class on the first day of school and rather than saying to myself, "this is going to be a great year", I said "there is no way I can stay here for two years"

I hate it. Honestly, I hate this. This situation I've chosen for myself and placed myself in, thinking this is what I wanted. Deep down, I knew I never wanted this but I told myself I did; financially, spiritually, allowing me to get further involved with things here in Irvine. I am already starting to see the positives of me staying here:

a beautiful group of 7th grade girls to lead at church

running Ignite a second year in a row

new internships taking flight

But most days, the negatives heavily outweigh the positives in my life. The thoughts of missing out and being left behind consume my mind and take me through this daily process of self-loathing.

I feel stupid. I feel stagnant. I feel useless.

I just want to be able to do everything else it seems like every other person is doing. I want to have a roommate and decorate my dorm room. I want to go to orientation and sit through droning seminars about "college safety" and the school's standards. I want to eat bad dorm food, rush a sorority, put all of my toiletries in a bucket. I want to have a week full of ice breakers and new student games. I want to be apart of something bigger than simply going to class. I want to be apart of a group of people who want to be where they are and are in the same exact boat as I am.

I know that staying here has presented opportunity after opportunity for ways to be involved and truly make an impact.

But, as much as I may know this, I still want to be upset. Just for a little bit longer.

I haven't been able to fully let go and realize that this year simply isn't going to go as planned.

I know that someday I will, but today doesn't seem to be that day.

I wish I had words of encouragement for myself, but today doesn't seem to be that day either.

...for the shocked

Being gone for the past week on a trip with junior high ministry, I decided I was tired of my sour patch kids and packaged food diet and made the wise and proud decision to head to the gym.

Arriving excited and ready to get back into the swing of my usual routine, I wasn't expecting to leave with tears welling up in my eyes.

After my successfully tiring cardio workout, I made the next stop on my list to the sauna before I started on weights and such. I had been sitting in a sweaty awkward silence for about 10 minutes or so when suddenly the guy next to me had an outburst. See, there were four of us occupying this tiny space. Myself, two younger guys in their 20's and a man I'd say not much older than the other two who was coughing excessively. He was on my left while the whack job was on my right. I feel like it's only necessary to tell you that the innocent man to the left of me smelled of lavender while the predator on my right was soaking wet and had a very distracting tattoo that covered the entirety of his back.

Back to the story:

It was obvious that this man's coughing was a bit loud and contagious, but rather than politely asking him to cover his mouth or even step outside for a minute to clear his throat, the guy next to me flung curse word after curse word at this guy. I heard his piercing voice through my earphones and quickly turned my music off. I was shocked; So taken back by this man's vulgar approach. He even had the audacity to ask the rest of us if we agreed with him, implying he was right. All I could utter from my mouth was, "well, that was really rude of you to do." He proceeded to curse and tried getting the guy to step outside and fight him. I got up from my seat and opened the door and right as I did, I heard the words, "and my god, look how big your nose is, seriously." It was coming to a point where an attack was happening. I stopped dead in my tracks and contemplated turning around to lash out. But all I could do was turn around, glare, and keep walking.

Why are people so rude? Especially to people they don't even know.

I wish I could have said something, mustered up the courage to do more and defend this man who was being so harshly verbally attacked.

But I didn't, instead of stepping in, I stepped aside.

I left the situation alone and allowed this tattooed, insecure, inconsiderate man get away with nothing but a few weak words and a cold glare.

I don't understand what makes people think they have the right to treat someone so poorly. It's something that has always plagued my thoughts and really rests heavy on my heart. I don't get it, so if someone could explain it to me I would love to hear the explanation. As individuals, we have a choice. We have a choice to interact with those around us or continue on our path as if we were the only ones present. Given the opportunity to meet new people or cross paths with someone I've never met before, the first and only thought I have is to be considerate. Maybe it's how I was raised, or maybe it's being a decent person, but no one ever deserves to be talked to the way this man was approached today. It stung me, and I wasn't even the one being talked to.

I wish more people would realize that the only approach should be through love.

So, what will you do? Continue on your path, cold and downcast, shying away from new relationships, or will you lift your head high, and meet everyone new with a smile and an open heart.

...for the long gone but close at heart

Saying goodbye sucks.

So I usually avoid it.

Saying goodbye sucks and although I would love to avoid it, it's inevitable and sometimes I just have to pony up and do it.

It seems as though these past few weeks have been filled with nothing but goodbyes and quite frankly, I want a new change of pace. Going house to house, a picture frame or card in hand, readying myself mentally for all of the nostalgia we will go through, the memories we will reminisce about, and the holiday breaks we will be sure to visit each other on has become repetitive and robotic. Not to mention the weekly heytell or texting updates and frequented yet most likely dwindling Skype conversations that we plan out right before the final hug.

Last week my goodbyes were reserved for the long time friends I have grown up with all throughout high school and for some, even elementary school. Those have been some of the hardest, but the ones yet to come are going to be the worst: the best friends.

After a great going away party last night, the host of the night pointed out to me that he had to leave his best friends behind that day; that for him, that was the last night he could say goodbye.

And it hit me.

I didn't realize that I would ever have to really say goodbye to my best friends. Scattered all around California, I am lucky enough to say that my closest friends are in an inconveniently enough driving distance away from me, but for them, it's all the convenience I need. Then there's Maddy. 3,006 miles away from me in Providence, Rhode Island, I can't hop into my car whenever I feel like getting away for the weekend. No, she decided to intentionally place herself as far away from me as possible. Kudos to my other best friends, but for her, I have decided to hold a grudge.

Needless to say, saying goodbye to the people I know best is going to be a moment I am dreading to experience.

But then, camp happened.

Right when I thought I knew everyone I wanted to say goodbye to, I met a whole new set of 12 amazing people.

For those of you who have never experienced a church camp, being a leader for a retreat, or any other leadership experience involving bonding with strangers, you may not fully appreciate the impact that these short-term best friends make on your life.

Saying goodbye to best friends is probably the worst goodbye I will have to ever face, but saying goodbye to a group of people who just recently walked into your life and then so quickly walked out is a weird feeling.

I spent about 3 hours a week for 8 weeks straight with a group of strangers and then once camp hit, the 24 hour a day interactions turned these strangers into family.

We ate together, we woke up early and stayed up late together, we made fools of ourselves and observed as others did the same. We had deep conversations during our meal times and gossiped about the events of the night huddled around a small apartment table. Pranks were pulled, hats were worn, and shakas were thrown and all throughout these events, we bonded. We became a group of leaders rather than 13 leaders placed in one room.

We worked together and it was one of the greatest weeks we could have had.

But instead of going back home and picking up where we left off, reality set in and I realized that we don't have the opportunity to do that anymore. Our "camp high" would hit its low right when we departed to our respective cars.

That feeling, that goodbye, sucks.

Saying goodbye to someone when there is still so much time to say hello is weird. It didn't feel fair to me that these relationships were cut short before most of them could fully take flight.

I am excited for all of us. I am excited for the paths we will be taking at our new schools and for the whole new set of strangers we will meet and call our friends. As excited as I am, I didn't expect to be this taken back by how bummed I feel.

I know that if it's worth it, we will stay in touch.

I know that as time passes, it will get harder and harder to do just that.

I know that as weird as those goodbyes may have felt, I have a week full of memories to keep me stoked on those people.

Saying goodbye sucks.

But the people you are saying goodbye to make it totally worth it.

Thanks to my week-long ASB camp family

-let's not become too estranged, ya?

To those of us out there having to say our goodbyes: good friends, acquaintances, best friends and family, or even those people who just came to say hello,

Goodnight and Goodluck.