Monday, January 24, 2011

Green monster

I have been thinking a lot lately about the fact that nobody has a perfect life, that anybody who wishes they were somebody else obviously doesn't know that somebody else so well. Everyone is to blame for feeling that small green monster inside whether its a passing thought of, "gosh, I wish I had tan skin like that", as a tall, skinny, tan gorgeous girl walks past you as she works it in her designer 4 inch heels. Or, saying to our best friend, "No wonder (insert name of a women down the street) is always so happy. Her husband is a beautiful picture perfect ken, they have loads of money and there kids are bLAHA BLAH blah BLAH blah!!!!"

Well guess what? Peoples lives are not what they always seem to be on the surface. Not that people pretend to be something different, some people just choose to be happy even if they wake up and crawl out of bed with their messy bed head and swollen eyes from crying the night before.

When I was in high school I would often time hear girls say things about me like, "she is annoyingly happy all the time." Well, girls I apologize for wanting to make the best of my life whether the day sucks or not. Do I make my life sound better than it is sometimes? No, words can't explain the amazing blessings I have received in my life. Do I not talk about my problems I have in life? Ya know, sometimes I do... Sometimes I call up my friends and vent for annoyingly long periods of times. But, there are a lot of things about my life that are scabs I don't like to pick at and make bleed all over again. Most hard problems I have had in life only my closest friends know the details about, and a lot of my problems only my family know about. But, I don't see that as me being fake. I see it as trials that the Lord has given me and lots of times those are sacred and personal to me and the fact that I don't walk around constantly sulking about them doesn't mean I pretend.

For the most part I feel like this blog has been somewhat real.

First of all, yes... I am loving my new job. I get to go into a cute house that was turned into a salon full of beautiful, real, and kind girls everyday. I know with all my heart that I made the right decision for me in my life at this moment. Is it perfect? no! Do I miss BYU? with all my heart. Will I go back? well right now my goal is to finish getting my cosmetology license... and after that I am not planning on what I will do, because like I have learned, God's plans don't always fit with ours. Why exactly did I choose to get my hair license? because the two majors I would want to do are not practical. Doing hair is a great job, knowing I will have something I can support myself with will help me choose a major I truly want to do because I love it... not because of money. And I need time to decide what that is.

Second, yes... I am dating an amazing boy!!! The two of us have been dating for almost a year. I know I always make our relationship sound perfect, and as all sensible people know, it's not perfect. I love the boy with all my heart and often feel unworthy to be his girlfriend. Why he chose me? I do not know. We have an amazing relationship and show each other nearly everyday how much we care for each other. But, once a relationship gets past the oblivious lovey dovey first 6 months stage love becomes a choice. We have gone through some rough spots, but we CHOOSE to stay with each other and because of that we grow closer each time we make that choice.

So, girls... love and embrace your life. don't expect it to be perfect. don't wish it different. and make the best out of the worst. And don't be so hard on the boys in your lives. Find a boy who you trust, one who can dissolve a horrible day by a simple hug, one who looks at you like you are the world, and one who lets you cry with out complaining about it...and hold on to him with all your heart, and return it all to him.

1 comment:

  1. Love this. You probably won't even see that I commented on this because it is such an old post! These are very profound words from a wise woman.

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