Why, hello again.
I know, I know, you thought you were all free of my late night ramblings and overly emotional thoughts. You may have thought that Spain ate me alive (kinda did, tbh, but that’s for another day) and that Georgia would never see those sparkly Nikes hit solid ground again. But alas, here we are.
It’s February 14th. Again. It’s Valentine’s Day. And I know that it’s been four-ish months since my last blog and I know you might feel slightly abandoned (or relieved) that I haven’t written in a while, but I’ve got some new people on this journey and these words are spilling out quicker than I can hold in.
When I wrote this post one year ago, “broken” could barely describe me. I was emotionally ripped to shreds, I wasn’t caring for myself physically, and my mental state was probably as close to darkness as it’s ever been. I cried that entire five hours home from a mountain trip I didn’t know anyone on and my cousin gave up her Valentine’s night to persuade me to go sit in a dark theater and watch a movie: something that didn’t require talking, because I’m not sure I would have been able to form coherent sentences anyways.
I was broken. I felt broken, I looked broken, I acted broken. No part of me wanted to be there, no part of me wanted to seize the day. In face, there were many days in January and February where I would will myself to sleep at 8:02 pm with melatonin just so the day would be over; just so I could go to sleep, close my eyes, and count another day as passed.
February 14th, 2016 was a dark, hard day.
But February 14th, 2017? A whole different story.
Today, I woke up, got dressed in a pale pink sweater and white corduroys, and curled my hair. I drove to a job that even I didn’t see coming at the end of 2016, one with the word “editor” in the title. I finalized vacation plans for next month with a man who loves me at one of my favorite places in the whole entire world. I grabbed dinner with one of my favorite gal pal additions in 2016, to come home and do an MMA workout (who even am I, I have no clue).
It didn’t even hit me until 3:37 pm today to realize that 2016 was preparation for today. For those moments to happen with those people today, God had to ensure I was in the best and healthiest place possible. And while that involved a looooooot of moments I didn’t like (read: loathe, hate, despise), those moments were complete preparation for today.
Today, I was chosen. Not only by God, but every single person that surrounded me. By family who was so unbelievably grateful to have me back healthy and stateside, albeit quicker than we expected; by coworkers who enjoy my sarcasm and like teaching me new skills rather than being looked at like a hassle to train; by a boyfriend, who even in his long distance, still finds time to sit and call before going to class or the gym to make sure I know I am loved and chosen, even when words are hard to find for boys; for friends, who deliver the hard truth but also laugh and snort and sympathize over the frivolous day-to-day happenings. Today, on this February 14th, everyone in my day has been purely orchestrated by the King. And today, more so over others, I took special notice.
Today, I wasn’t only chosen; I was free. Free from my past pain and so heavily favored. Today, I felt the weight of love and acceptance and joy and freedom.
So if you are living my 2016, know that I walked out the other side. I’m scarred but I’m in the clear. And if I can do it, you can too. Cry. Cry more days than you feel are socially acceptable, drive to Dunkin’, and get you a half dozen heart shaped donuts (bavarian creme for the win). Eat those iced and frosted and powdered sugar messes and cry. Let it be the moment that you feel the worst and don’t worry about the makeup you’re missing or the people you probably aren’t impressing. Know that today sucks and that tomorrow isn’t going to miraculously get better. Know that “getting better” requires time…a lot more time than you probably want to give it. But don’t rush it, because that only hurts you in the long run. Give yourself time to heal, because no one likes an open wound; it’ll keep bleeding over and over and over until it becomes one permanent, blood-stained mark.
Take your time. Heal. Walk out the other side. And a year from now, your 2018 will look much better. Find your freedom and know you are always favored.
I hope you all felt loved this Valentine’s Day. Thank you to my people for not only today, but the past 364 days of support they’ve given me. I am forever indebted to your grace and love that you provided me in my neediest time, and I am immensely proud to walk by your sides and call you my people. Have a donut for me tomorrow. I love you.