Troy and I have been faced with something inevitable, unfortunate, and just plain stressful. We are moving. We do not have a choice, we are not happy, and we have done nothing wrong.
Life just happens that way sometimes, I guess.
I have spent so much time in the past twenty years worrying about other people’s lives. I constantly find myself wondering why I have been dealt the cards I have been dealt, as if I deserve more or something, I don’t really know.
I put myself down, and hide my opinions in the shadows of my peers-convincing myself that I am some how inferior.
I convince myself that I need more. Need nicer things, need newer things, things, things, things! Her lies the problem. I don’t need anything.
This move has made me come to terms with many things I was trying to avoid. But above all I realize how many things I own. My materialistic life is all-consuming as I now need to find places for all of these things I possess.
Things have sculpted my mind, and my way of thinking, and I am forced to believe that I am not the only culprit of this self-indulging society.
Every day– every day we compare our lives to those of others by the materials we possess. Cars. Houses. Phones. Cameras. Clothes. Jewelry. Food.
I do this too often, sometimes so much that I drive myself to tears. But for what? What am I seeking that I can not attain?
Life is about giving as well as taking. Without the rain there would be no sunshine, and without sadness we could not appreciate happiness. Compromise. Share. Think outside the box and don’t be afraid to be different.
I don’t want to move. I love the home I spent so much time creating. This was our first place together, and I will miss the memories created within these walls. I know that everything must change eventually, and that not everything is within my control.
I know now that home is not the walls I sleep, eat, and live within–but the arms that hold me while I sleep, and the place where deep, thundering laughter surrounds me. Wherever my soon-to-be husband is–is my home. It sounds cliché, but this is one cliché I don’t mind at all. That the man who loves me, also owns my own heart and I trust him with my very last breath. Where Troy is- is home, the place where I feel the most safe, comfortable, and free of all judgement–just as home should be.
I am growing-mentally, intellectually–emotionally. I do not know where this move will take us, or what is in store for us in the upcoming months. With school beginning shortly, and the wedding around the corner I can not say I am fearless.
However, I do know that lemons are sour, as is life sometimes. But when you add sugar to lemons, something incredible happens.
When you take a bad situation and bring all the good you can into it–your outcome may surprise you. Don’t concentrate on the bad, but view the situation as a whole, and consider all of your options. Don’t focus your attention on getting yourself out of a bad situation, but think of ways to create a good one.
If everyone spent all of their time focusing on the negative, we would all be eating lemons.
Fresh Squeezed Pink Lemonade
- 1 1/2 C Fresh squeezed lemon juice
- 1 C Hot water
- 1 1/4 C Sugar
- 3 Quarts cold water
- 3 T berry flavored syrup
Combine hot water with sugar until all sugar has melted. Add lemon juice, cold water, and berry syrup. Stir until mixed well, chill, and serve. I actually used black cherry syrup, but strawberry or raspberry would be very tasty as well.
The Girl With the Cupcake Tattoo
Thank you to all of our family and friends for your support. We wouldn’t be where we are or who we are today without you.