I was born.
I was pretty small. Didn't have much hair for the first year of my life. I was pretty bald.
But let me tell you, I was pretty dang adorable.
And so the life of me began.
I grew up in a small, relatively loathsome town. I lived there until I was 6 years old, with my mom, dad, and my older brother Spencer, who just for the record is the best brother in the whole world. Seriously.
I lived my first three or so years in a snug little house that was right in front of a cow field, and we had some pretty legit pecan trees. Really my only memory from that house is my dad taking me outside and I looked around and could hear all those schnazzy little cows over the fence.
When I was about 2 years old, we got our first dog, Daisy, who I absolutely loved to death. She died at the age of 14, but I still love the sweet old thing in my heart. My mother has said that she was nearly the definition of loyalty, and it's true. She never left your side, and she trusted you without ever doubting you.
Another important day was when I was about 5 or 6, in that loathsome town on a bright sunny day, my brother was telling me about an important decision I needed to make. He told me that Jesus could come back at any second without any warning, and I needed to be ready. At that moment, I actually understood somewhat how important that decision was. I told my mom that I wanted to ask Jesus into my heart. We went back into my room and on that day I accepted Jesus Christ as my Savior. Now, my goal in life is to live for Him, and to do His will wholeheartedly, even when it's not something I really want to do.
And then.... we moved to another nearly equally loathsome town, way down in the South. I lived there from when I was 6 to two days before I turned 13. If I had to pick any place to say that I "grew up" in, that would be the town. And whenever I visit there now (which is only on rare occasions), even though it isn't the most attractive town, I can't help but be nostalgic. It's where I have almost every memory of my childhood, and where I grew up.
It was also in this town I began my "awkward stage." I've decided we all have one. It's usually some time when you're in middle school or early high school, and you suddenly become not very attractive and dorky. It began for me there. I got glasses and braces, not to mention my hair was repulsively greasy and frizzy. And then I got a weird skin condition. In this case, I'm not using the word "awkward" in an exaggerated tone. I mean, you have to admit, a greasy-haired, four-eyed, metal-mouth, skin-condition preteen doesn't sound terribly attractive to you, now does it?
But it was a time in my life. And one that I'll never forget. It wasn't a pleasant time in my life, really. Probably one of the worse times. I struggled a lot with self image - I knew I wasn't pretty, or at least not as pretty as most girls. I wasn't confident and I was struggling, as do all preteens, to "find myself." I couldn't tell who I was, so I allowed other people to dictate who I was for a while. Thankfully, I grew up.
The cycle of life moves on.
Also, in that town, we got our second dog, Winston. He was my favorite flufferboo in the whole world and he was absolutely precious and wonderful and my little butter ball. He was my boyfrannn and my bestie and he was so sweet and adorable and all that mushy stuff. I lurved him and I still lurve him in my heart.
Then another big change occurred.
As I said earlier, we moved two days before I turned 13 to the town that I was born in. Only 30 minutes away from where I lived until I was 6, but the appearance of this town is vastly improved. It's actually quite beautiful. The downtown part of it is absolutely precious. Your typical old downtown streets, complete with the most hipster local coffee shop ever, a little downtown market... it's a wonderful place. The northern part of the city is delightful as well - quite pleasant. I still live in this town, but so much has changed since we first moved here.
As I said earlier, when we first moved, I was a dork. Nerdy glasses and braces plus greasy hair does not make for an attractive young girl. And I knew it. For a year I lived in the misery of knowing that I wasn't very pretty. What I didn't know though was that I acted like a complete moron. I was that middle school girl who was desperately trying to fit in with everyone else and act like a high schooler. That just didn't work out. In a big way.
It all changed when I was 14, I believe. If I recall correctly it was late September or October of 2009. I was going in to get a haircut. Thankfully my mom essentially told me my hair needed to be cut, even though I didn't want to. My mom took me to this girl named Kiersten who my brother and dad had been going to. When I got there, we met each other, and I immediately warmed up to her outgoing spirit. I liked her. My thought process went a little like this, "Hm. I like her. She's cool. Really outgoing. Hm. Okay. She's washing my hair. Hm. Okay. She's cutting it. Hm. Okay. She's drying it. Hm. Okay. WHOOOOAAAAA. I hair doesn't look disgusting!"
Indeed, Kiersten had completely changed how I looked simply because she cut my hair to a length in which it didn't look like pieces of wet yarn and had straightened it. At that moment, I decided to get rid of my braces, glasses, nasty hair, and get my ears pierced.
And from that decision, in almost a year to the day, I changed from this to this:
And now you possibly understand why that haircut was such a big deal.
Well, also that year, two other important changes began to make their way into my life. Gargantuan changes.
One was I began an activity called mock trial. It's for high schoolers and if you've read my blog, you probably know generally what it is. Anyway, I had always been terrified of public speaking. Or speaking at all. When I was a little girl, I wouldn't talk to anyone I didn't know. I mean, I was the girl who hid under the table at the age of seven when her parents made her order her own food at a restaurant. So doing mock trial was a huge leap of faith for me. When I first started, I was horrible. I was nervous, shy, and people laughed at me constantly. I would go home depressed and in desperate need of brownies. But in mock trial, criticism is always present. Constructive or deconstructive, you're going to get your fair share of it. I had to grow some tough skin, and it took a while. Mock trial has changed me and continues to change me in so many ways. I have learned how to speak, how to suck it up and take criticism, and I even learned how to communicate well with people my age in mock trial. If you recall, I didn't really have any friends for 7 years of my life. So I didn't know how to talk to people very well. I matured a lot that year, and also this year, in mock trial. Every year I learn more and more about not only public speaking, but life in general. I even met all of my best friends, discounting my family, in mock trial. Joining the team was one of the best decisions I ever made.
{mock trial team right before regional competition 2011}
{moments after we beat a team in our region that had won for 12 years straight. legitimately the most exciting moment of my life}
{our coach was so proud of us winning regionals, he took us to DQ in a Hummer stretch limo. heck yeah}
{me and only the coolest guy ever, Aaron. we were both witnesses for the plaintiff}
{the second we heard that we had won regionals for the second year in a row. um. excitement.}
{here is pictured me being hugged to death by Josh. too much excitement there buddy}
{after we learned we were going to the semi-finals at state}
However, in mock trial, another change made way.
I met this guy.
Feel free to say "aaawwww" at any time.
He was almost 14 and I had just turned 14. We were both freshmen. Both just beginning mock trial. It was a pretty big deal for both of us. Daniel had wanted to be an attorney for a long time, and I was just trying to get my feet on solid ground with public speaking. So it was important to both of us in big ways.
One day, on one of our "mock trial bonding trips," we went to a corn maze. For some reason, I had been imagining the whole day that I would go with just Daniel through the corn maze. I had known this guy for less than a month, but he was always so nice to me, and really the only guy who seemed to know that I even existed. He was nice. And dang it, he was really good looking. Anyway, I had imagined that the whole day, possibly the whole week. I knew it was just a dream in my mind that would never come true. I knew he didn't like me. I knew he didn't care all that much. I knew this was all going to go kaput.
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahaa
wrong my dear little one. quite wrong.
I did go through the maze with him. Just him. And that was the beginning of this whole thing.
After two months of knowing each other, one of our friends from mock trial, Molly, dubbed us as a future couple at our first dance.
{us at our first dance}
She was the first person to really notice anything going on between us. Soon, we were the two kids in mock trial to be picked on. And it went on the whole year. Needless to say, I was sick of it. But I still liked him.
In late December, the mock trial team went ice skating. Guess who took me out on the ice and held my hand the whole time? On the outside, I was like, "Yeeeepppp. Cute guy. With me. Yesh." On the inside I was like, "HOLY CRAP thiscuteguyisholdingmyhandomgoshomgoshomgoshomgoshomgosh -screams-"
So.
Then it continued.
It seemed that we kept doing all the same things. We did mock trial together, and almost immediately after that ended, my family ended up joining the same church as him. My brother, his brothers, and the two of us started hanging out a lot. Things kept going.
On Valentine's Day he asked me to prom.
And it's all continued from there....
Now we've been together for about three years.
{us about a year later at the home school Christmas dance}
Daniel is absolutely marvelous. He's so sweet and kind and understanding. He makes me laugh with his curious and analytical "Daniel-look" as seen here:
{isn't he SO cute? yesh. yesh he is}
As I was saying... Daniel is simply the most amazing guy ever. Ya-dah-ya-dah-ya. Yeah. All that stuff that the girls always say about their boyfriend about how he is the best guy ever. Except in my case, it's simply the truth. He makes me laugh, annoys me to death, and is basically the best listener in the whole entire world ever. He is so sweet. I love hearing him talk. He is honestly the smartest, sweetest (oh, did I already say that?), and best guy in the whole world. Oh. And he's sososososososososo dang good looking.So. In short. I'm pretty freaking blessed to have him in my life.
{us at camp in 2010}
{prom 2011}
{my favorite picture of us ever. No idea why. It's so cute. Captures our personalities perfectly}
:) :) :) :) :) :)
So 2009 was absolutely a year of change for me.
I also have this friend of mine. He's the king of everything, the Savior of the elect, a solid foundation, the Creator of the world. This friend of mine is God - Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Three persons. One God. He is pretty incredible. I love talking to Him. I love praising Him. Sometimes I'll just be sitting there thinking, as I have a habit of doing, and I'll suddenly want to jump up and down and scream because suddenly the thought occurs to me: I have a God who created everything around me, Who died on the cross, and Who personally loves me! When that thought occurs to me I can barely retain the excitement that I know Him, and that He loves me, no matter how dirty and scuffed up I am. He takes me as I am. He continues to shape and form me everyday, and I want Him to constantly be doing a good work in me. I'm not perfect, but I seek to be holy as He is. Nothing good that comes out of me is because of me - it's because of the work He is doing within me. He's to blame for anything that is good in me. I love reading His word. I love thinking about His greatness. I love Him. He's my solid rock, my foundation, an ever present help in trouble. I won't be shaken. He is my God.
And then there's me and my cousin, Macy. Wow. How to even begin to describe us..... I can't even begin to imagine. She's my best girlfriend. We've been close for as long as I can remember. We love each other, and then sometimes we just want to kill each other. We basically live together. Most people who first meet us think we're sisters because we're joined at the hip. Almost literally. And I can see how people would think we're sisters, because we act like we are. We talk and laugh together, we fight, we get infuriatingly mad at each other, but altogether we just love each other. Macy has been my closest friend for the longest time, as I met her three days after I was born, and we've been close ever since. Once I moved to the same town as her back when I was 13, we became closer than we had ever been before, and we continue to do pretty much everything together. She and I will stay up until 6 in the morning talking about theology and how hot Jonas Armstrong is. Yeah. So that's us.
{me and Macy. We're so cute}
{dorky middle school picture time!}
{huggss}
{favorite picture of us evverr}
{more huggss}
{us and the twin dads :) }
{Macy's senior prom!}
{senior tripping it up}
{faces}
{fuddyyy faces!}
In the summer of 2011, however, I lost one of my best friends. Once I did a joke video about him being my boyfriend, and as I said, "He's fluffy.... kind of like... Esau." Yep. You guessed it. Winston.
But in April of 2011, Winston stopped eating, almost altogether. For two months he barely ate anything, but he looked fat, so we didn't worry about it. But in June of that year, we took him to get groomed. And when we got him back, we discovered that under all the fur had been a completely emaciated dog. His spine was extremely prominent, and you could feel everything: his ribs, his spine, his hips. But his stomach still looked huge. We took him in to the vet soon after, and we found out he was bloated. They drained a lot of fluid off of him, and we hoped he would get back to normal. But three days later, they drained more off of him than they had before. We had to take him up to an emergency animal hospital. They told us the testing they would have to do on him would be 2000-3000 dollars. My dad said no. But the next day he changed his mind, and we took Winston back up. Lots of testing. They gave us lots of medicine. He kept going back and forth. One day he would act like he was going to die. The next he would act like he was completely normal. My brother and I went to camp in July. And in the second week of camp, my dad called and said they had to put Winston down. I would never see him again.
I cried for an hour and a half.
I miss Winston more than anything. I still cry about him sometimes. I still get upset, have my off days, and look at old pictures of him with sadness, but I know that whatever happened was God's will, and was for the best. I still love him. He's still my bestie, my lil boyfrann, my cuddlebug, my smoofgaloof, and most of all, my little Monster. I love him. I always will.
{my favorite picture of Winston ever}
I absolutely love my family too. I'm really close with my mom. I can tell her anything, and she won't judge me. She always gives me good advice, and if I'm not doing something right, she'll kindly tell me what I need to fix in whatever area it is. She's my "teacher" since I'm home schooled. She and I go to Starbucks every Sunday and then either go to the local park or drive for an hour around town and talk and talk and talk. It's great. Yeah, I'll admit it. I've always been a "mama's girl" type. But as my youth pastor said, call me a mama's girl and I'll slap you and go hug my mom. She's so good at giving me advice, and she listens to me talk for three hours straight about nothing important. She's a good listener. A really, really good listener. I really love my mom!
Also, I have the most amazing brother ever. I'm serious. Like. I'm serious serious. You can't even begin to argue with me that my brother is simply the best ever. I love him more than almost anything or anyone. I'm kind of a protective sister, even though he's older. For instance, if you say one slightly gray-area bad thing about him, I release the jaguar in me. For serious. I love him so much it's not even funny. We're pretty close. My favorite thing to do with him is drive in his schanzzy SUV down the interstate blasting Relient k or an Irish drinking song, and talking to him about everything that has to do with anything. He has a beard. He reads like crazy. He's basically the smartest person I've ever met. Whenever my friends and I are hanging out, if we need to know anything about philosophy, history, or theology, we yell, "HEY SPENCER. Get in here and tell us about this philosophical topic and explain it to us in detail." And he does so immediately without thinking twice. His brain is like an encyclopedia. But it's not just that. Spencer is honestly one of the most sincere, caring, kind guys I've ever met in my life. He's not just smart: he's wise. And I love him more than I can even begin to express.
And then the rest of my family... my cousins. My aunts and uncles. They're all just great.
{my family and my dad's twin brother's family. Back row, from left to right: Dad, Mom, Spencer, me.
front row from left to right: my uncle, Harry, my aunt, Sherri, my cousin, Austin, and Macy}
{the person who always listens, who always loves, who always is there for me. I love her <3 }
{me, Austin, and Macy after running a 5k}
{me, Dad, and Spencer}
{Spencer, me and Mom. Family shot? eehhhh, sort of}
You'll recall 2009 was a big year for me. It was also the year I became absolutely obsessed with photography. My cousin, Macy, kind of introduced me to the idea, and afterward, I stole the family camera a lot and began doing photography. If you've read my blog even once or twice, you've probably seen some of my photography. In 2009, I got my first working digital camera. It was a Canon camera, pretty small, kind of grainy pictures, but it didn't matter to me. It was a camera. It was mine. Pictures galore! In 2010, exactly a year later, I got my first Nikon for Christmas. I was immediately in love with it. A P100. Not a DSLR, but the closest thing to. Right now I'm looking at getting a D700. It will require lots of saving, but I'm an avid photographer. It's my passion. At the moment, I'm looking at doing photography for a living. It's something I honestly feel like God has gifted me with, and I intend to use that gift to show to the world the beauty that He has created so I can further glorify Him.
I love coffee shops. I love little kids. I love Snow Patrol. I love nail polish. I love guys who wear beanies and plaid shirts. I love owls (and foxes). I love letting my cousin doodle on my knees, hands, and feet. I love Dr. Seuss. I love wearing shmancy high heels. I love chilling to some bluegrass or Motown. I love dreaming of traveling around the world. I love Shakespeare. I love climbing trees. I love planning out my wedding probably at least 6 years before I'll get married. I love F. Scott Fitzgerald. I love screaming at the top of my lungs on some crazy ride. I love dreaming. I love imagining. I love hugging. I love loving.
Life is good.
Thanks for reading <3
