My Evolution.

Development. 

Advancement. 

Growth. 

Rise. 

Progress. 

Expansion.

These concepts have been floating around my mind the past few years...

& the last couple months I've been thinking about how I've made those thoughts actions. I'm a bit surprised at who I've become. Pleasantly surprised, that is.

It's a bit weird to think about how/who I used to be. It seems every year I look back and think, 'Man, I was so dumb..' I don't know if that's good or bad... I think good... Because that means I'm getting smarter, right? 

I used to be so scared of spiders. I'd cover them with a cup (& just to be safe, I'd put a heavy book on top of it, so the creep could not escape) and then yell to a family member to come kill it. Now, spiders don't scare me at all. Because when I really thought about it, what was there to fear about those little guys? They still startle me, but I just take them and put them outside. I don't like killing them. Call me a hippie, it's fine. Once I realized that there was really nothing to fear about them, a lot of other, bigger fears, faded away too.

I used to hate hiking. And when I say 'hate', I seriously mean it. Growing up, when my parents said we were going hiking, I turned into a whiner and hoped it would rain. What was the point of being out in the heat, covered in dirt, walking through trees, and being surrounded by bugs? Ewww... Now, there is no place I'd rather be than in the mountains, looking at the earth, dirt on my skin, and feeling the fresh air in my body. I love the quiet. I love the peace. I feel closest to myself and to my maker there. The mountains are my home, my soul craves them.

I used to despise sweating. And by sweating, I mean exercise. Gross. Gym classes in school were the worst. I would do just enough so the teacher would count me as participating, and not a sit-up more. I hated getting all damp and sticky. Now, I'm at the gym 5-6 days a week. My body aches to move. If I'm not getting that moisture out of my pours during a workout, I push myself until I do. I love the feeling of leaving that building with sticky skin, aching muscles, and a clear mind. Nothing makes me feel quite as strong.

I used to be so excited if a guy called me pretty. Yay, he likes me! It was the best compliment, such a confidence booster... temporarily, that is. Now, there are a million other compliments I'd rather have before 'good-looking'.

Intelligent.

Clever.

Positive.

Strong.

Capable.

& Kind, to name a few.

 I am not my body. I am my soul. I want my future partner to find that attractive, not just its vessel.

 I used to be scared to try. Know how long I've kept a journal? 

Basically my whole life. 

Know how long I've loved it? 

Yep, my whole life. 

Know how long the world has known that?

Since April 21, 2011, when I clicked 'publish' for the first post on this little site. It wasn't until about a year and a half after that, that I told people other than family, that I had a blog. Thank you, Facebook.

Why did it take me so long?

I was afraid.

These were my thoughts, laid right out. This was me. What if people didn't like it? What if they thought I was dumb?

I didn't do what I truly loved, for fear of failure.

But failure is relative. I think failure is success.

True failure, is not even trying.

So, I tried. & all your sweet souls have given me the greatest of feedback ever since.  

Happy heart :)

Thank you from the depths of my soul.

Now, if there's something I want to do, I try it.

What people will think isn't a factor in my mind.

So, I write. 

& I lift my little weights at the gym, while the guy next to me pumps his 100 pounders. 

& I attempt to play the guitar, with my little hands.

& I run outside, looking like a mess.

& I cook. If the meal turns out gross, I sure know what to do better next time.

& I reach out to new friends, because we're not in high school anymore, so no one is too cool for me.

& I love it all.

I used to compare myself to every other girl on the planet.

She's prettier than me.

She's smarter than me.

She's skinnier than me.

She's funnier than me.

And that, my friends, is miserable. Now, I don't do that anymore.  
Good for those girls, being pretty, smart, fit, and funny.

I am my only competition. 

...I am happy in my skin & mind...

How's your evolution?

Are you close to who you were this time last year?

My Sister.

Good evening.
I should be writing a six page paper for my psychology class,

but I'm not.

I'm okay with it.

I got time... it might be running low...

but I wanted to write something from my soul.

I haven't blogged for 2 weeks & my being is having withdrawals.

At this moment, I'm feeling a bit melancholy. I usually don't use that word. It feels weird leaving my lips. Also, on Titanic, Cal used that word once in the film & for some reason I just can't hear it differently now.

 I try to stay positive. It is key in life.
But sometimes, a few tough things happen all at once.
When that happens, it's easy to remember every little thing that I feel isn't working out.
Then I turn into this drama queen,
& tell my mom, 'I'm quitting everything, I'll just lay here on the floor & sleep my life away.'

Honestly & in all seriousness,
I think my mood reflects a part of my heart I really don't let anyone into.
Even though it's an old wound, it's still very tender.
So I'll just let the tears roll down my cheeks as I type this...

Sometimes, I really miss my sister. 
& by 'sometimes', I mean 'all the time.'

Sometimes I really miss her attempting to watch the Anne of Green Gables series in one weekend. I'd bug her all day Saturday, begging her to hang out with me, until she did. I miss knowing her favorite shows.

 

Sometimes I miss when I'd freak out over something so stupid and she'd grab my shoulders, look in my eyes sternly, and tell me to calm down and get a grip.

Sometimes I miss begging her to let me pluck her eyebrows. (Perhaps I'm a weirdy & love using those tweezers...) She'd say no all evening until she'd finally give in. As I pulled her eyebrows out one at a time, she'd make this face like she was in pain, but couldn't help laughing at the same time. I miss that.

 Sometimes I miss her coming into my room at night, just to talk. Because those were the best of conversations; the deepest & the most hilarious. I miss laughing with her.

Sometimes I miss her advice. She knew I wasn't the strongest at voicing my opinion, but she'd help me do it when it really mattered. She helped me be brave. I miss looking up to her.

Sometimes I miss staying up with her until 3 in the morning rewinding the last five minutes of High School Musical, to try and learn the silly dance. We're all in this together....

 Sometimes I miss her helping me with technology. I'm not gifted in that area. She'd always help me figure things out the computer or my ipod. I miss her smarts.

 Sometimes I miss her doing her television impressions. Whenever she'd have a bowl of ice cream, for some reason she'd feel the need to pretend she had her own cooking show. She'd explain everything she was doing as she mixed her ice cream and chocolate syrup together. I could not help but laugh so hard at those shows. Even now, they still bring a smile to my face.

Sometimes I miss her calling me, in tears and upset. And I would do my best to calm her down, until I could see her in person and help her figure things out. I miss knowing what's upsetting her.


Since she left, it's like a part of my heart is missing. Nothing else fills it, nothing else makes it complete.

 
I know that that part of my heart is troubled, only because it experienced something so wonderful & real.
& that wonderful, is totally worth the trouble. 

 So if you have a sister, could you do me a solid? 
Could you give her a call & tell her how grateful you are that you were born to the same parents?
 Could you tell her how much you love her & how much you care about her?

That might help my melancholy mood.

Hollie, you are so loved.
always & forever, sista.

Belief.

Sometimes I spend lots of hours on a single post.

Sounds kind of crazy, right?

They're like 5 paragraphs, how could they take that long?

I type, delete, type, feel inspired, almost finish, question if the whole thing sounds ridiculously stupid, seriously consider deleting it, decide to keep it as a draft for a few days, revise it later, then post it and hope I conveyed how I felt. 

Tonight is kind of different. I'm sitting here, in the dark, in my oversized mustard sweater that I love, & I just want to write. No overanalyzing, no overthinking, no worry about correct grammar, no debate over what I should or shouldn't post... I just want to write.

The past little while I've been feeling really at peace. Sometimes I get so caught up on what's not happening, how I planned & expected, that I turn into a drama queen. But lately, I've felt really calm, even though life hasn't happened how I thought it would.

Mostly, wholly because I've come to not only realize, but accept the fact my plan for myself, isn't always what's best for me. My maker's plan for me, however, is perfect.

There are so many instances I can look back on and say, 'Wow, good thing that awful thing happened!', 'Thank heavens that didn't work out!', or, 'I'm so glad what I wanted then didn't pan out.'

In the moment, tough things feel like they will never be over; it's just one thing after another.

But the point isn't for them to be over; they are the point. They are one of the main reasons we are here; 

to make us stronger, better, & wiser.

One thing I've struggled with is aligning my will with God's. I don't know why I ever question it... I mean, he's God for goodness sake. His timing is flawless. Even when things aren't happening how I imagined, it's all part of the plan He has in place for me.

One thing that's really helped me find this realization, is you. So many of you have helped me, most, without knowing it...

A dear friend of mine's father was diagnosed with cancer. They started a blog to keep friends and family updated on his journey. On one of the posts, they asked readers not to pray for a full recovery, but to pray for acceptance of God's will. I bawled reading those words. Their faith in their maker is... there isn't a good enough word- incredible, beautiful, amazing, strong... & the list of adjectives goes on.

My friend from high school went through a divorce. She is one gal I've always looked up to. Her belief in God and all that He is has always given me strength. I feel like I can see her belief in Him, just by looking at her. When I heard about her divorce, I was so heartbroken. The first time I saw her after I heard of her situation, I wasn't surprised... She looked drained, like she was trying so hard to keep it together, but one thing I could see in her eyes was, she wasn't giving up. She was fighting hard to keep herself together. She didn't give up on God, when she could have blamed Him for everything. She clung to Him with all she had.

 I creeped on a girl's blog... is that weird? oh well if it is... She and her husband had been trying to have a baby for so long. They tried for two years, until they finally had a successful pregnancy. Her telling of their journey stuck with me sooo much. She wrote of being jealous of those having babies. She wrote of trying not to be bitter. She wrote of all the different things they tried to help them conceive. She wrote of the emotional toll infertility can take on a person. She wrote of wanting to give up on their dream, and close the door forever. But they didn't. They decided to give it one last try... and it was worth it. She wrote of how ultimately, it brought her closer to God & understanding His plan for her.

 

 I love Corrie. Ever read The Hiding Place? If you answered 'no', I highly suggest you make it so you could truthfully answer 'yes'.

There are so many other instances & stories I could tell about resilience, but alas, the alarm clock goes off in a matter of hours & this girl needs her sleep.

I just want to say thank you to you all;

for being strong in your hardest moments,

for keeping faith when it's easy to let go,

and for sharing the experiences closest to your hearts with me.

You inspire, strengthen, and shape me;

In my moments of weakness, one of your faces and story will find it's way to the front of my mind. 

& I'll remember your belief & it strengthens mine.