Dal.

I remember sitting by the window in Kneaders,

talking for hours, as the sun made its way through the glass.

We had both recently lost things that were so dear to our hearts;

we found ourselves growing closer, as we grew individually from the losses.

I was learning confidence.

It's not something I was born with-

it was new to me.

I was learning how to practice it.

I had gradually been speaking my mind & giving my thoughts as a way of training.

As we sat and ate,

he told me someone close to us had talked to him about me.

They spoke of how I had been rude recently,

and how I seemed to have changed.

I jumped to my own defense, almost heartbroken,
"I'm not being mean! I promise... I'm trying so hard to get out of my shell. I'm just tired of being scared to give my opinion... or even disagree with people."

A huge smile filled his face, 

"I know! I thought that's what you were doing",

His words were full of pride.

His face, full of excitement.

"Karinne, people aren't used to it. They aren't used to you speaking up.

They see you as the little girl afraid to return her bowling shoes to the counter for fear of talking to a person she doesn't know", he said, "regardless of what people say,

you have to keep doing it."

His response fueled me with just what I needed.

Who is 'he'?

My brother.

Being married has caused me to reflect on all that brought me to the joy that I live.

I realized, a good chunk of the 'all', was him.

When I was 20 and fresh out of a long, terrible relationship,

he pulled me through.

He helped me learn who I was & who I wanted to be.

He taught me how to love myself:

One summer's day we sat by the pool.

Two girls with gorgeous, giant legs walked by,

and I said, "I wish I had legs like that."

Dal relplied, without skipping a beat, "You know, they're wishing they had something of yours."

That moment will stick with my soul forever.

It changed me.

In that one sentence, he reversed my negative mentality towards my body,

and put it on its way to the most positive.

He taught me how to use my voice:

The only thing he's ever been with me, is honest.

& that's the only thing he has wanted from me.

He wanted to know my true feelings on anything we talked about; 

from the texture of spinach, to Tupac, to God.

He didn't want my thoughts and opinions so he could try to change or judge me.

He wanted them so he could know me.

As we talked- as he was my safety-
I began to know me.

As I was honest with him, I found it easier to be honest with others.

He taught me to challenge myself:

Our conversations brought what truly mattered.
We discussed beliefs, ideas, and ways of living.
He encouraged me to do what I wanted- what felt right for me.
He never wanted me to do things 'just because',
he only wanted me to do them because they felt right in my soul.
He taught me to question things & to trust things- especially myself.
As we took our hiking trips together,
he agreed to do the craziest hikes with me.
Hiking those trails gave us the time and clarity for those conversations.
Those trails also challenged our bodies.
They taught me to push myself,
to finish the 20 miles in the Grand Canyon,
the 14 miles in Glacier.
Never have I been more physically exhausted as I was after those hikes.
& never have I felt so strong & proud of myself,
laughing in our tent as our legs felt like jello.

Dal has shaped me into who I am.
He knew how fragile I was 4 years ago & helped me become strong.
He taught me confidence when I had none.
He encouraged my opinion, even if he disagreed.
He showed me how to live consciously, when I didn't know how.
He empowered me to be who I am, regardless of other's reactions.
& most of all,
he loved me, when I forgot to love myself.

I found a quote that read,
"You have got to find people who love like you do."
My mind went straight to him.
He is a piece of my heart, forever.

I love you, Dal.