(I saved this years ago, so I do not have the source to this image. If you know the source, please comment below so I may correct this. Thank you!)

Valentine's Day is coming.

And while I should be brainstorming more about what to do for my Valentine's Outfit Of The Day, I instead have something else on my mind.

Love.

Which you'd think, "Duh, Ladee, of course you're thinking about love with Valentine's Day coming up."

And actually no, it's not because of that.

LOVE has literally been on my mind a lot lately.

This past year I've been thinking a lot about me (ha, I sound arrogant) and about how much I want to be the best person I can be. And in my journey of forever betterment, or whatever you may call it as while I know that I am a work in progress, I am certain that I'll never always have it right or be perfect, I've been listening to how I talk to others, watch how I treat others as well as how they talk and treat me.

And I do have to say that I look back with a lot of shame.

How could I so easily love someone, or give someone the benefit of the doubt and then lose all that within an instant when I hear of a secret of theirs or hear that they no longer attend church/stop believing in God or that they choose to do anything against my moral code?

What good am I doing by suddenly seeing them in a different light, therefore choosing to forgo that "benefit of a doubt" that I only hope others would give me?

I felt it was drilled within me to "love one another" and to be like Christ, who loves everyone, only to be whiplashed with how I should be careful of those I allow as friends, for their influences could affect me.

I literally felt the only friends that I was to have were not those that had the same "standards" as mine, but only those who attended the same church as mine.

Every one else, all those other potential friends that I could have had, I was just to be kind to, but keep at a distance.

And I look back on my life, wishing I had been more accepting of others.

I have a good friend who left my church.
Her mother told her, "I would've rather heard you died than leave the church."
Her father emails her with quotes upon quotes, wronging her reasons for leaving.
Friend number one pulled me aside one day and said, "I don't know how to act around her now."
Friend number two said, "I was told that I should lose contact with her."
Many friends talk about her as though her salvation is lost.
And many of those friends don't talk to her anymore.
But when I asked my friend how she feels about everything, she gave me a genuine smile and said, "Ladee, I am at peace."

And I felt peace too. Because how can I argue that? Argue the fact that she's at peace with life? Who am I to say she's not? Who am I to say that she is now unworthy of love and friendship because she made a decision she felt within her was the right one?

If we feel inner peace with that we're doing in life, how can that be wrong?

While this has been a slow transition for me, to love one another as they are, starting around the age of high school, I woke up one day just tired of judging on the whole. I got tired of thinking someone should be loved to a certain degree more or less than someone else because of the way they choose to live their life.

I'm not saying that I'm completely judge-free. I still have my times when I make assumptions of people and for the most part, any negative assumption I have generally ends up to be a wrong one, which only reminds me that I'm a fool and need to leave the judging and the assumptions to God, for heaven's sake (pun intended).

Why are we so selective in the love we give?

People act like love is some finite resource. Like it's gonna get all used up so we must use it wisely.

I understand how loving someone, only to have them stab you in the back (or to not reciprocate it), sucks. I understand the blow that is, I understand how hard it is to sleep with that knowledge and knowing that person won't be there tomorrow or worse, knowing you must cut those ties tomorrow. I understand how it feels to know you gave love throughout a period of time, wondering if that person was deserving of it and if they truly loved you back.

I understand too how that can have us putting love on hold for others. Or keeping them at a distance to protect a resource within us that we cherish so much; a part of ourselves we may never get back.

But why can't we give some love and care to everyone? Why must our hearts run cold until someone comes along to warm it? Why must we look on the outside or look at the faults FIRST before assessing whether someone is worthy to be loved or even accepted?

When I decided to believe that love is an infinite resource, I found myself with more love to give. And I found myself making far less negative assumptions.

As it says in 1 Thessalonians 3, when given instruction on how to better one's lacking faith:

11. Now God himself and our Father, and our Lord Jesus Christ direct our way unto you.
12. And the Lord make you to increase and abound in love one toward another, and toward ALL MEN, even as WE DO TOWARD YOU.
13. To the end he may stablish your hearts unblameable in holiness before God, even our Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, with all the saints.

I feel that if we are commanded to love one another and that being it, no asterisk next to this verse, no "if, and, or but" afterwards then shouldn't we do just that: to love one another and to give them that part of your time and even a small part of your heart?

I started this blog years ago, hoping that I could word vomit everything that I'm feeling and what's going on in my life and in the lives of my friends so that I could back up why I feel this way and what honestly started this post.

I guess what has me hurt the most and has me writing this post is because I know far too many people, myself included, who feel they can't be truly honest with those around them because they feel that those they cherish the most will see them differently and therefore remove their love from them and create a wall of separation because, "it's you that's changed".

I hate that I can only tell a few people what lies within the deepest realms of my heart or be most authentically me because they're "safe" when I could easily be this way with a stranger and spill my guts to them and they wouldn't see me any different than any other person. How is it at all logical to trust a stranger more than to trust a family member with what's burdening you? I've wondered how many times I've told my children they could tell me anything, but my actions have had them second-guessing that and therefore, they don't?

I want to change that. I want my kids to know that the safest person they can trust, is ME. I want my kids to know that any question or concern or worry or fear or anything can be held safe within me and that they'll know I'll still LOVE THEM.

And the parent in me thinks that maybe that's where this all should start: within the home. For if we show those around us how it is to love and to give the benefit of the doubt, then maybe, just maybe, that Christlike example will be etched within our hearts and will come naturally to those who are outside the home.

I got new jammies!

Every Christmas Eve each member of the family gets new jammies.

It would be a shame to have gone this whole year, with my new obsession of plaid, and not make sure that the theme of our family's pajamas is PLAID.

I love how my family opened presents with their new jammies and instead of groveling over a pattern that they've certainly seen too much of, said, "These are so cool!"

Christmas was the day that I planned on staying in my jam-jams all day long. But that didn't happen. 

Instead I planned it for today. 

Monday.

I think all Mondays should be jammie wearing day, IMHO.

It's the 28th of December and while I'm sure someone's partying somewhere, it's a sure boring day over here.

I've been asked "What can I do? Who can I play with?" four times today. Just now I was asked, "Can you see if so-and-so can play tomorrow?"

Apparently the new presents Santa provided aren't near as fun to play with when the weather went through a forty degree drop overnight.

Ok, first off, last week's weather was freakin' AMAZING.

I swear this was an answer to my last three years' prayers. My gym friend and I have loathed the cold weather and every morning would shiver our tails off while waiting for those blasted gym doors to open. I feel like our cries were finally heard.

Global warming? BRING IT. It sure makes for a better workout anyway! ;)

......................................................................................................

Annnnnnnnywayyyyyys.

To get to the brunt of this post:

I realized that my last blog post may have come off like I was complaining.

Or depressed.

Or anxious.

Or tired.

Or any emotion other than happy.

"It does sound like a bummer post, doesn't it?" I asked Mr Hunter last night, while reading through it one last time.

Mr Hunter shrugged and smiled, saying, "I thought it was very sweet what you said about me though."

I want you all to know that I'm doing so well right now.

The first of the year wasn't too bad. 

And then as the year progressed, it became less enjoyable and more life learning.

I'm still considering writing another post about all I learned so I'll skip to October.

October was The Great Shift in my life. It was that month when I felt like all those angels I've leaned on for support, care, to hold me while I tackled my demons, finally took a step back, loosened their grip around me and said, "Ladee, be free. You can do this."

(I saved this on my computer this summer, posted it on FB and can't find it online to source it. If this is your photo, contact me and I will source you.)

From then on I was changed. 

But in a good way.

Actually, in a GREAT WAY.

I felt like my soul was in hibernation; going through extensive amounts of questioning and learning, healing, searching for inner truth; an internal whirlwind. My soul went through such a concentration of highs and lows, comfort and loss in a few short months than I have experienced in years combined. 

But finally: I found freedom.

(Source. Thank you!)

And never doubting once that God had ever left my side.

I realized just how many things held me down. Things that I thoroughly believed were to uplift me, were actually the shackles that imprisoned me my whole life.

I was robbed. So robbed.

Letting go of all the "fluff" as I call it, and holding tight to God, Christ, and my family; the bare essentials, and letting go of everything that doesn't feel right within me, has given me such freedom and a happiness so rich I have felt at times my heart would burst.

While I know I could write more and go into way more depth than I am right now, I leave my readers with this:

If ____ (you fill in the blank) doesn't honor you, doesn't make your soul sing, doesn't bring you PURE joy and happiness, doesn't have you waking up proud of the person you are...

LET IT GO.

If it's a person you must keep in your life (example: a family member that you love dearly), LET GO of the way they feel about you/your situation/your decisions. Let them think and judge and act for themselves, but don't allow it to affect you. The moment you don't let their thoughts/words affect you is the moment you're liberated.

For if you are truly happy, does it mater what anyone thinks? Would you rather be unhappy but keep them happy? How unfair that is. To sacrifice your happiness, forgo what God wants you to have most, for someone else's opinion to be the way they want about you.

So, going back to my last post, this year wasn't catastrophic, although it sounds like it. It had it's ups and it sure had some downs.

And yeah, I'm really, really ready for the year to be over. Because I'm so excited to start new, with a new me of sorts.

But I've never been happier.

And I've never felt more loved and more free.

<3

I hear this every time I tell someone that I'm choosing to eat clean, be healthier, go "on a diet".

And usually these words are said with a tone of disgust, in which I feel like I'm really hearing, "You skinny minny, you gained five pounds and are crying over it. Give me a break."

They are true. I am "skinny" and I have "gained five pounds" and, in a sense, I am "crying over it". So I grant your "give me a break" by no longer confiding in you during the times I need to make this change.

But before you go thinking that I'm just vain, that I'm high maintenance, or that I'm judging why you're not watching your health as much as I am, let me tell you my side of this story.

I am 5' 3"....which is actually an estimation considering I'm really 5' 2.75"

I live my life based on HOW I FEEL.

Yes, I will weigh myself once or twice a week. If I'm counting calories or am trying to lose a pound or two due to a week of mindless bingeing, I'll check that scale every darn day until I'm back in the black.

I allow myself a five pound range. I can feel when I'm at the lower end of that range and I can feel when I'm at the higher end of that range. And, let's get real, my pants talk too. They know where I'm at on that range as well.

The problem I have is that I love food. Like, I really love food. To which people will look me up and down and think that I'm lying when I say that, like I only love healthy foods or something. I'd love to introduce you to my two girlfriends who have gone out to the Cheesecake Factory with me many times and watched as I've eaten a whole appetizer (fried mac and cheese is my LIFE), entree (mostly a cheeseburger with sweet potato fries and a side of ranch), AND a whole slice of cheesecake (Adam's PB cup fudge ripple cheesecake, to be exact). Have you been to the Cheesecake Factory? Have you seen their servings?

Should I be ashamed to admit that I've eaten that much, in one sitting, to you?

To which ties into the other problem I have and that is that I lack self control. Especially during social events or times of stress or times when I'm bored out of my mind and I just want something to eat to give me comfort and companionship.

And no, I don't munch on kale chips or carrot sticks or apple slices to bide my time. I munch on cookies, crackers, candy, breads, anything that is made of sugar and carbs.

I also work out. I have oftentimes told people that the only reason I work out is so I can eat as much as I do and, other than working out being my therapy, that statement is absolutely true. Because food too, is my therapy.

I do have to say, that I will have seasons in my life where I will skip out on the junk food, ignore the candy aisle at the store, forget that there's such a thing as chocolate ice cream and the infinity creative toppings that can go with it.

And these seasons happen when I choose to be strict with myself. I love when I'm strict with myself just as much as I love when I allow myself to run amok at the closest frozen yogurt joint.

There is a near war that goes on in my mind before finally surrendering to this strict, lifestyle change. Because why do I want to eat whole foods when unhealthy foods fill my belly with such satisfaction, make me happy, and bring me relief?

But I've found there's so much freedom in the restriction. I know what I can eat and I can trust it won't make me feel like crap come morning.

Crap. Yes, metaphorically, of course. Lately I've been feeling quite a bit like crap in the mornings. Or quite a lot like crap in the mornings.

I get up, take some caffeine and start my day with a work out. I eat really well come about 1pm when my real appetite kicks in and I'm stuffing Keebler's Chocolate Lovers cookies down my throat while chugging chocolate milk as a dessert to my Club Lulu from Jimmy Johns.

While I've been blessed to be able to have an appetite and not gain weight too considerably fast, I do gain and then I have the worst time trying to break through those dreaded plateaus.

But the number one reason I choose to be healthy, to make this strict lifestyle change in hopes that I'll remain strict for a while (while knowing that I'm human, a food addict, and tend to slowly be back to my old way in a year or two) is because I'm hypoglycemic.

I can FEEL when my blood sugar is out of control. I can FEEL when it's low and when it's high.

Unhealthy eating, the way I prefer to eat, upsets my blood sugar. It drops far too often, far too quickly or suddenly a binge on sugar cookies will send it so high I could swear I feel the sugar slugging through my veins.

Whether my blood sugar is too high or too low, one thing is certain: My life comes to a halt. I lay in bed for hours, waiting for my blood sugar to lower, or because my blood sugar took such a nose dive, my body is weak.

"Oh, Ladee," I've been told, "Maybe you should see a doctor and see if you can get some medication for that."

WHY? So I can continue eating garbage?

NO. How about I kick my butt in gear, eat clean, and have that be my medication? Will I lose weight? More than likely. But for some reason, losing weight isn't ok, especially when you're as "skinny" as I am.

People need to understand that your health is never solely based on your size.

Just as one size will never be prettier than the other, one size isn't a guarantee to be healthier than the other.

I am choosing this lifestyle change as a reset to my body. This diet is extremely strict, but only for 4-6 weeks (depending on how I FEEL) and then afterwards it's just maintenance. My blood sugar throughout this diet is perfect. I never have any issues while on it. And once I'm off the diet the issues I have are rare, as long as I keep my intake in check. If I'm eating healthy, I can go a meal or two a week eating pure junk and my blood sugar will level itself out on its own.

But the constant abuse and then my body surrenders and can't function like the well-oiled, God-made machinery like it should.

So to those ladies that gained five pounds and are "crying about it", I'm here for you. Because we understand how those measly five pounds make us feel. If we feel awesome at a certain weight, then it shouldn't matter what any outside source says. And as long as we're going about it in a healthy manner, then it really shouldn't matter what anyone says.

And to those that say, "But you don't need to go on a diet", please understand the reasoning behind the person choosing their diet.

While I know, firsthand, about terrible dieting, and obsessing over weight, unless you are certain someone is leading a very dangerous, eating-disorder lifestyle, please, be supportive. Please do not try to sabotage their diet either. It's better to understand it and see if they have "cheat meals" before delivering a pound cake or taking them to a burger joint where there's nothing on the menu they can order and they're left feeling so stuck they either cave (which is painful) or end up drinking ice water while they watch you eat (which is painful too).

Because we all know that dieting isn't easy. And one day you may find yourself on the flip side and will hope that your friends will be of a support to you.

I think way too much. 

If my blog posts aren't evident enough of that then, CONFESSION: I think too much.

Sometimes I wonder if I don't think any more than the next person. That we're all just a bunch of thinkers but don't voice it. I know that we always seem to have some streaming thought going on in our head, according to some show I watched years ago. 

But to contemplate, to really consider certain things, including the pointless things, until you've either got it down to a science or tire of it, I wonder how much of that we all, as a whole, really do.

I wonder this because I have had mental battles, wars, while sitting amongst a quiet group of friends. Where I think something and then debate it, or view it from another angle, debate that and then go back to my first thought before the debate to start fresh. I will then look over at a friend, remember something I needed to ask her, to which it interrupts the organized chaos that is raging in my head and suddenly my mind is now an eight semi-truck pile up all thanks to the 1998 Dodge Neon that cut everyone off.

One gal I'm subscribed to uploaded a video and in it, she was frustrated. She ranted about other YouTubers, one in particular, but how a lot of them are "fake" while screaming to their viewers that they should be themselves. She also talked about the demands these people have and the difficulty of that to post videos on a regular basis to meet the expectations of their viewers. 

This video had me coming to a screeching halt while applying my makeup. I took a look at myself in the mirror, wondering with that over-thinking brain of mine, how much her rant could very well apply to me. 

And I did a video on it. Because I want you, my favorite people in the world, to know what my response is and I think it's only fair to finally tell you what you should expect from me. 

I was out with a couple of friends when the subject of another friend came up.

"I haven't seen Sally in a while," the friend to my left says, "is she doing ok?"

Sally had recently confided in me things that I shared with no one. I knew the information given to me was of a sensitive nature and therefore, I, being a friend of hers that I want her to trust, considered how I would answer this question. I thought of saying, "I think she's just needing a break right now" or "She's probably been busy", as I didn't want to appear like I knew too much (as we all can't stand knowing that someone knows more information of another than you do, right?).

Before I could decide which answer was a better fit, the friend on my right (Mary) says loudly and confidently, "Honey, you don't want to know...."

The thoughts in my head came to a screeching halt as I look over at Mary. As far as I knew, Sally and Mary were not close. They knew each other, though. But I hardly believed Sally was sharing such sensitive information that she felt she could confide in me in, to someone she hardly knew.

That was when I asked, "Oh, did Sally tell you what was going on?"

"No," she answered, "But Sally is close to Jackie and Jackie told me."

I realized something that day. Something about Mary and Jackie that ultimately changed the person that I wanted to be.

I never wanted to be known as a busy body, or someone that people assume they can trust with sensitive matters, and go tell someone else about it. 

There's a reason why YOU are the person a friend turns to when they want to talk. It's because they feel they have a sense of comradery with YOU. That YOU are a soft place to land. That what YOU are being told, is safe within YOU.

There's a reason why they didn't tell your best friend Mary. There's a reason why they didn't tell any other person they may know. 

So why make someone's business someone else's? 

Watch as I talk a little more about gossip, how it affects you and those around you. And how you can avoid it and be the driving force to stop the spread of it.

*Names have been changed. Duh. 

Today many YouTubers have joined the #DearMe Youtube campaign to help everyone see that they are enough as they are.

Without viewing anyone's video, I decided to make one. I wanted it to be uninfluenced by the other YouTubers, I wanted it to be unscripted and come from within. What would I want the 15 year old me to know?

At 15 years old I remember laying in my room in torment. I felt so alone and so dark. I felt no light within me. I felt no emotion and felt imprisoned because of that. I remember wondering what in the world brought me to this place and wondered if I'd ever be happy again...or if I'd ever be able to EXIST the way I did again.

I reached up to the air above me, as though I attempted with every fiber of my being to grab hold of the ceiling that rested six feet above me and begged God to touch me, to heal me, to show me any sign. I remember begging for him to touch me, or for any sign, any sort of acknowledgement that He was there!

Nothing happened.

I felt at that moment that the only way I would know His existence and to be able to return to sanity, was if I left this earth.

It made sense at that time. There was no way out of the abyss I lingered within than that.

Fast forward 17 years to day.

So much has happened since that night. So many chapters of my life opened and closed and opened anew. Each chapter expanding my understanding more than the last about that time in my life.

I have a far greater understanding of what happened and why it did. Why I had such a tumultuous season in my life and at such a young age. Why I felt so alone, why I felt so forsaken.

I could go on for days. My understanding now is like an onion, with many layers, all bound together, only for me to truly know each part of it.

But I wanted to share a little of that onion with you.

Yesterday I went to the store to grab some groceries.

Right out of the blue I get this thought to buy this:

(source--thank you!)

I have a history with this dessert. We go way back. And even though I am the world's biggest Reese's fan, so much so that I am confident the only reason this company remains in business because of me, you're welcome, I don't have the happiest of memories with this dessert.

I'm going to take a wild guess that this product came out around 2005 because that's when this girl was introduced to it and once it was brought to my attention that I could pretty much have an 8x8inch sized peanut butter cup, I shelled out money right and left that was budgeted for the gas bill to get me some...the struggle was so real.

Alas, the fault is not Reese's. Nor Betty Crocker.

The fault is mine because, well, momma over here couldn't get enough of this dessert and ate it on the regular right around the time that I got pregnant with my second child, and therefore this go-to addiction came along with me as I entered into my season of nausea.

Then one day, nearly going bankrupt buying my 187th box of this delicious treat in a little over three months, I finished the prolonged task of making it and then took a bite.

And it tasted....gross.

It tasted like how I had been feeling every morning I woke up after eating nearly a whole pan of this dessert. It tasted like how I felt the moment before I ran to the toilet, in hopes I bend over it in time. This was when Mr Hunter's lack of skill in putting down the toilet seat was a godsend.

It tasted like misery. It tasted like my head leaning against the wall that the toilet sat next to as I slowly counted to ten to calm my squeezing stomach. It tasted like the tissue I would use to blow my nose to rid it of the acidic burn. It tasted like the spiked water that I sipped on after everything was said and done.

And so I didn't buy it again. For years.

Every time I look at this delicious dessert, I can taste the misery and the nausea and the dull ache in my head and stomach.

I keep a box around, sitting by the bed, as nothing could possibly make a better birth control reminder than that.

Ok, I'm totally kidding.

But it is a good idea now that I'm thinking about it. ;)

Well, back to yesterday, I was at the store when I get this feeling to buy it. I knew I wouldn't be eating it but I remember thinking, "This would be a fun activity for Girl Bunny and Boy Lyon to do, as it is no bake and they have been wanting to help me more with cooking and baking."

I walk up to get it and while the flooding memories and feelings come back, I grab the box when I think, "But this isn't the most healthy treat...and we are trying to be more health conscious as a family...I wouldn't be setting a good example...." and so I put it back.

I get home from the store when Girl Bunny asks if she could invite her friend over to spend the night. And not only could this girl spend the night, but it was also the night before her birthday.
This girl is probably the easiest person to please. She just blends in with the family, becomes one of our own, I never have to worry about her, it's like she's my own child when she's here.

But every time she comes over, I get her and Girl Bunny a treat or, an activity to do.....

........annnnnnnnnnnnd that is exactly what this Reese's No Bake dessert is.

And here is when I started kicking myself.

Sometimes we get thoughts, or feelings, to do/say things, and while mine was extremely trivial and even silly, as you might consider it, we mustn't let reason tell it "no".
Sometimes a thought is planted in our minds, "Hey, why don't you buy that so Girl Bunny and Boy Lyon could do this..." when the real reason for the purchase of the item was so that I could have a treat and activity for the friend coming over.

I have found that when I feel prompted to do something, the reason I do it is completely different from the outcome.

Needless to say, Mr Hunter made a special trip to the store that evening.

And I made a special reminder to myself to quit second guessing and letting reason snuff the silly promptings I get.

Do you ever have that ONE THING that stops you dead in your tracks, gets you choked up to near tears, even in the midst of being among far too many strangers, and has you looking at your life from a different perspective?

That was me yesterday.

My friend's little girl's birthday is coming up next week. How I not only love my friend for a novel of reasons I could give, but her little girl has a spirit that warms my soul and just has my heart melting every time I see her. 

This little girl is having a big birthday. It's an age she's been looking forward to for quite some time. 

I am one who firmly believes to keep a journal, or a blog, or a vlog, whatever means you can to document your life, sweetheart, you should do it. 

I also believe a good way to kickstart a new time in one's life is to buy a new journal.

So I went to the store, looking for one for this little girl. 

The great thing about journals is that it doesn't matter what you write in it. It really doesn't. And who says you have to WRITE?! Buried deep within my closet are several journals of mine with not only journal entries, but letters never sent to those who have hurt me (for therapeutic reasons), letters to God, poems about love, hurt, and loss of friendship, and also...ART. Sure, my drawings are a far cry from jaw-droppingly beautiful, but to me, at that precise moment in time, they were the masterpiece that depicted what words could not. 

^^Which is why I still find having a physical journal more important than a digital one, in case you were gonna say something about that.

I had to get the right journal for this girl. It had to be the right colors, it had to scream her name and be a perfect representation of her, as I want this journal to be a part of her.

But as I was looking through the small bookshelf of journals, I stumbled across one that did not scream her name, but screamed for my attention.

Cue the choking up, the tears, and cue the camera while I take a crooked, sloppy picture that I had to photoshop before putting on here:

I have been considering for a few days now to do a video on Boundaries. Actually, I wanted to do a video about how to have a healthy relationship with others when I realized that it all boiled down to boundaries and therefore, I've been thinking of nothing since.

This same friend whose daughter's birthday is coming up was discussing with me in mid-Autumn about a book she was reading on boundaries.

I didn't think much of it, other than the fact that for her, I thought that was a wonderful idea as I understood why she would need to set these boundaries.

But these past many months I have been worn out, and as you might have read a few posts back, I just feel buried with this job I have. It doesn't help too that I went into this job with all the negative emotions one like me could conjure within.

And stupidly, it was only a couple weeks ago when I actually decided that I can't do this all on my own but that I needed God's help. I firstly kicked myself for being so stupid as to not have asked for His help in the first place. Instead of me asking for help, I realized I was doing more of, "Could you just make this-and-this happen?" or "You know, it would be really great if I could get out of this job...." and along with that, I would give God ideas as to what He could do to make this all just a bit easier on me.

Selfish. That's what I've been. Only thinking of me, and turning to God like I was entitled to have Him listen and go, "Sure Ladee, your wish is my command."

I was driving home from the gym a couple weeks ago, still dark as night at six in the morning when I asked a question I am certain God knew was coming, "Dear Heavenly Father... I need your help. Will you please give me the strength to do what I need to do as well as the knowledge to know what Thou would have me do in this job?" I then went on about why I'm asking for this help, even though I laugh to myself as He's spent the last nine months hearing my complains anyway, so this was no new news to Him.

I park my car in front of the house, end my prayer, knowing that I needed to leave this in His hands now (read: I needed to quit my complaining from here on out), and went on with my morning of getting the kids ready for school, showering, getting ready for the day, and whatever other errands I had planned.

And stupidly again, I figured God would suddenly give me this superhuman strength to be strong and immovable, to tell people what to do without hesitation and especially without feeling guilt, to make assignments without feeling like I'm burdening others, to be able to spring out of bed singing like I'm a member of the Von Trapp family for my early morning meetings, to just suddenly own this President cap, know what the heck I'm doing, and wear it with pride.

And then came Tuesday. Just two days ago. Though I could swear several weeks had passed.

To cut shorter this already long post, I realized that my boundaries have been ignored. Not by others, but by ME and my allowance of overlooking my borders because I find myself to be less than the value of another or less than the issues a friend or two may be having at the time.
This same friend once told me, "Ladee, you feel too much. You carry too much the thoughts and feelings of others. It's a gift of yours, but it's also a curse. You have to know when this is being a gift and when it's not. Your curse is that you concern yourself too much to the thoughts and feelings of how others view you. You can't change that and you know better than to change you. So let that go so that your gift can remain a GIFT."

She was also referring to me saying "yes" to things that will overwhelm me when I worry what saying "no" will do.

HOWEVER: I must give myself some credit. I am far better than I was. Far better. 

My journal entry this morning said this:

All in all, I'm good, really. But if you break me down into pieces, my heart is a mess from anxiety, my stomach hasn't had an appetite in days, and my mind is running a mile a minute with things I need to do.
I'm not complaining as I know it'll be over soon enough.

I need to get back to where I feel in control with myself. Like a realignment or something. I'm tired of feeling like I'm OK and then waking up with anxiety. I'm tired of feeling like I have control of things, only to get a vibe like I'm not. I'm tired of just worrying...about *everything*.
I'm tired of feelings people's vibes and having them affect me. I know people think things about me but I can no longer allow myself to care. For if someone thinks they can do a better job than me, I'd be happy to have them take it off my hands and yet, no one wants to. 

I just want my freedom back.

Today is the day I've decided I have to be true to myself before I can be true to others. To rebuild my boundaries so that I can have the spiritual/inner safety I need to give me back my sense of freedom. To which I can THEN give my desired effort to this job and be good at it. While proofreading this paragraph makes me cringe, as I know the value of another and know their needs are important, I must see MY VALUE TOO.

I used to be told by my peers that I have no freedom because I live by "rules". And maybe for some, that's true. But for me, and in my opinion, having proper guidelines and boundaries in your life will set you free. A happy balance of when to say yes and when to say no.

Freedom, there is nothing better.

How do you choose to have freedom in your life? How do you acquire it?

I am going to make a confession.

I am hating the job that I have.

I could on from the time I got this job in April to now but to save you the pages I would be writing, trust me when I say you would hate it too.

While I have several friends who just listen and laugh at the crud that I find is completely unnecessary for me to have to deal with, I have other friends who have told me, point blank, to quit.

And while quitting sounds spectacular, I wasn't born a quitter. My parents didn't raise me to get a job that once the stress levels meet as such that I'm considering jumping off a Dallas skyscraper, to just quit.

I understand now the sense of how it feels to be kicked when you're down, and once you think you've gained bearings finally someone throws a wrench in it.
I have learned that working with friends will have you seeing some color of theirs that you didn't think they could have. And having to look past it.
I have found that you'll never, ever, ever reach everyone's level of perfection...and that there'll always be that ONE person that expects you to rope them the moon while patting your head and rubbing your stomach at the same time.

And now we're at today. Today was just one of those days. One of those days where I didn't wanna get up and attend my early morning meetings and then my regular meetings. As the day progressed, more trivial things happened that alone, are nothing, but when you pack them together, on top of everything else that is going on right now in my job, with the new year and the big changes that'll make, I just wished that someone else could deal with all this and then I could resume in a few weeks.

Maybe I'm an avoider. That must be it. That I wanna run away from crud that is ruining the flow that I'm trying to keep.

And yet, in my journal, I found myself writing this:

And yet, throughout all this, I feel like I am to stick it out and not quit. And I'm looking up at the skies like, "Are you for real? What am I to learn from all this?" And then I hear God tell me I'll know soon enough, but for now I feel like a puppet on strings! And I'm mad because I also hear God saying that I don't have it that bad and to just trudge through it because when I complain to him I feel like he's understanding but is telling me to cowboy up and that it'll be fine soon enough.

(source)

Like, I'm seriously hearing him tell me the same thing I tell my kids when they come to me with silly issues like not wanting to make their bed because they can't do it right. I'll just say, "But you can do it, so do it! The more you do it the better you'll become so get started" and then I'll shoo them into their room before they could complain any more.

God is aware of me, He hasn't left my side. So why am I acting like He has? And why am I acting like he's given me a job that I can't handle?

I have realized that through the hard times comes the greatest lessons. Just right now, in the thick of it, I can't see them. But as the great saying goes: Life is understood backwards, but must be lived forwards.

But I will see soon enough these lessons I am to learn. In the mean time, I will "cowboy up".

A week or so ago I decided to change up my twitter banner, to which I used that same banner to change my youtube and facebook cover photo.

As I was going through these selfies, mostly put up on Instagram, I reminisced the reason as to why I took these pictures and why I posted them on Instagram. One in particular I posted because I was having a terrible day and felt faking my happiness would help my attitude to change. Another pic I took and used as a profile picture because I grew tired of the one I had. Another I took as part of an Instagram contest, believing I would win but out of the mere four people that entered, I didn't.

Each picture held a different emotion and each picture reminded me of where I have come, even though these pictures were done recently, I have found that I'm a day better than I was from yesterday.

And while I put together my banner/cover photo, I became inspired. The next day I wrote up the 5 tips on how to "Check yo' selfie before you wreck yo' selfie" and filmed it that afternoon.

Here's what I share. What are your thoughts? Would you agree? Would you add to what I've written?

....or so that's what some people are saying.

Others are saying we all need to chillax and not get so caught up in a bunch of nothing. 

So, which should you believe?

I wish I had an answer for you.

But I do have an opinion...well, hello, I have several opinions, but here I share one. 

My friend moved here to the great state of Texas many, many moons ago. A few weeks later she asked a bunch of us ladies a somewhat personal question and then said, "Remember, this is a judgement-free zone". I remember looking around at my friends with a relief, for this new gal removed the pressure to try to act perfect, or to attempt to give the perfect answer to her question, when she knew that we all knew that we weren't. 

I knew that this was a gal that I was going to like.

I have realized something lately. That the older I get, the more I find how imperfect I am and while I come to God with these imperfections, and state every last one of them to Him, even though I'm clearly aware that He already knows, the more I embrace my flaws, my "sins", my imperfections, my "mess ups"; the more I embrace other people who are in such diverse, different worlds than mine. And the more I don't give a damn as to what their "sins" are when they confess one or two to me.

(source, thank you!)

I was once told that when you come to love yourself, you will find it much easier to love others.

And after I heard that, I heard it several more times. 

Until I finally understood it. Now I don't hear it anymore.

I'm not saying that I completely love myself, or that I'm sin-free (ha--that's a laugh). I understand that the natural man is prone to sin. Regardless of what degree of "sin" that it is. And just because we are prone to sin does not justify the act of sinning. It helps us see that we can be downright stupid at times and that we can understand that and be forgiven if we wholeheartedly promise to try our best to never do it again.

Sin = enter your own definition.

I will not be telling you what I believe is right or wrong, or what is or isn't a sin. As I'm no judge. I'm just a person trying to do the best I can and trying to be as Christlike as I can. Drinking beer, for me, is a sin. But I don't believe that it's labeled a sin for everyone (and I will never judge you for doing it. Ever). 

See what I mean? So interpret the word "sin" as you will.

I also know too that if we were to lay our "sins" out on the table for all to see that by the end of this experiment we would all end up friendless. Because we would one, be ashamed of ourselves; and two, be disgusted with our neighbor.

The only people who needs to know our struggles, our imperfections, is the One who atoned for them and the One who sent His Son to atone for them. 

But sometimes, our imperfections come out.

Sometimes they are harder to hide than others. 

And yet people point the finger of blame because while they may be stronger than OUR sin/s, they have a closet ransacked with their own they are trying to ignore. And putting emphasis on our problems helps them, for a brief moment, forget theirs. 

Why do we do this?

Why do we find joy in other's pain?

And why do we hide our own pain?

Do we not understand that when we place so much energy into hiding our imperfections that we are actually doing more bad than embracing them and freeing them from within our soul? When we embrace them and free them, the likelihood of them returning is slim to none! Because they no longer have power over us to attract them back into our lives!

If we put as much energy into the great things about us and not so much into hiding the "bad", or what people may have had you thinking is "bad", how much more fulfilled do you think life would be?

When you lay down at night, do you honestly think your Maker wants you hating yourself for your imperfections? YOUR MAKER. Think of a person you love the most. More than anyone else. How would you feel if you knew he/she spent the quiet hours of their life shaming themselves, when you want nothing more than for them to see themselves through YOUR eyes?

How do you think God feels when he sees us doing this? 

You know he made every last part of you, including your strengths and weaknesses. You are His work of art. His masterpiece. Yes, YOU are a masterpiece!

Look, God knows we aren't perfect. God knows we have moments of weakness, or moments when we act heartless without thinking. He understands. He wants us to come to Him and say, "I know I did wrong, help me?" and promise to honestly TRY to make ourselves better.

Just the other day I did something heartless. I was at the store, looking for an item that I couldn't find and someone came up to me and said, "Hi, how are you?" To which I responded quietly, "I'm good, thanks". I said it kindly, not warmly as I was in concentration mode and didn't want to be bothered. This person walks off, comes back up to me and says again, "Hi, how are you?" To which I say louder and curtly while burning my eyes into theirs to make sure they're hearing me, "I'm GOOD, THANKS." 

I would have been better off saying, "Will you just shut up and leave me alone?" by the look on this person's face. I had clearly upset this person. Their eyes saddened. Their demeanor fizzled. I could swear I saw this person's heart breaking before me. And I, irritatingly walked away. Only to feel piss poor afterwards. I hoped to run into the person again to apologize, but couldn't find them. 

"I'm a bword." I vented to myself. "It's freakin' 7:30 in the morning and I probably ruined their whole day. What kind of person am I? How dare I act that way? I am an advocate of cheering people up, brightening their day, giving warm smiles and kind words. And I did none. of. that. Ladee, you are a loser."

While that may be a mere "sin", I was sorry. Deeply sorry. And I prayed hard for forgiveness. 

But what if I were to hold onto that "sin"? What would happen? I can only imagine myself forcefully trying to be overly nice to everyone, even at the expense of my energy, so I would never let anyone believe that I'm a mean-ol' woman. I would spend the dark hours of night in anxiety, thinking about how I affected that person's day...when I may not have affected it as bad as I assumed I did. The look on that person's face I still see vividly, but I know it would only haunt me in greater detail. I could very well try to hide from anyone at the store so that I don't accidentally do it again and potentially be even meaner...as all my energy is being spent on hiding how mean I am.

I guess what I'm trying to say is this: We all sin. Don't act like you don't and that you're perfect enough to cast stones at your neighbor because their weaknesses are different than yours. What if the tables were turned and your neighbor knew your secrets? Would you want them casting their stones of perfection at you because they don't sin like you do?

I didn't think so.

Also, don't hold on to your sins. There was a Man that came to this Earth to atone for them! He paved a way that you could give Him your sins and to explain to Him all your weaknesses, and through His love He'll make everything better! As long as you are TRYING, He is fighting with you, easing your burdens, removing your guilt. Making you stronger.

That's it: TRY. 

TRY not to sin. TRY to love yourself. And you'll find that loving other's regardless of the way they live easier and more rewarding than you could ever imagine. 

All we need is love. Love is the strongest, most powerful gift you can give anyone. It heals, it brings understanding, it changes lives.

Love, don't judge. That's all that's asked of us anyways, right?

My friend Jane, wrote this:

I think DYT has taken a beautiful system and made it accidentally a tool of judgment. (...) What happens is we want to say "I AM" and "YOU ARE" definitely this type. And if you're wrong, then you're fooling yourself. Don't you see it? And thus self-judgment and judgment of others. 

And it had me thinking.

Why? Because I am guilty of this. Have I been upfront and told my friends that I thought their Typing was wrong? I hope not. Sure, I find frustration when a friend is beating a dead horse over something we all already know is her Type and yet she won't listen or is continuously wanting confirmation on a Type.

Does it really matter if we know what our Type is?

For me, and for some I know, yes.

But for others?

I don't think so. Or maybe the better answer is: Not yet.

I'm part of a Facebook group that houses a kaleidoscope of women. All of different ages, all from different parts of the world, all with their own, unique story.

And I have found that knowing your Type does not come easily as I thought, and as a lot of others believe. A friend's recent posting has had me feeling somber and turning inward, knowing that I needed to write and praying as to what I should.

Time and again we fail to understand that if we walked a mile in our friends' shoes, that we would see life and ourselves differently. Maybe knowing who we are isn't so "black and white" or an eye-opening experience.

While I can't always state a person's dominant, I am pretty fair at knowing what their two strongest energies are. And there are several instances where I talk to my friends, who are dead set at claiming a certain Type and here I wanna yell, "No, you're not a 3! You're a 2/4 or 4/2!" and yet what I'm not seeing is why they claim that type. What if Dad was an abusive Type 4 and Mom, an avoiding, beat down Type 2, who didn't know how or even appear to TRY to protect her children?

What if someone believes that being a certain Type meant being safe? What if it meant that all people would love them if they were that Type? Or, what if being a certain Type provided protection to a very wounded inner child?

Can you see now, why someone would want to claim anything other than those Types that may appear to harm, even if that is their true nature? We condition ourselves at a young age to learn what is good, what is bad, and how the hell to survive, even if those conditions we placed in our minds are distorted. They are nevertheless, TRUTHS to us. And yet, we tell them they are wrong, as though they are stupid and we are know-it-all Yodas.

Maybe what is most important in our life is happiness. That's it: Happiness.

Does it matter if you claim Type 2 today, embrace it and love yourself for it and in a few years realize that you are actually a Type 1?

Does that matter at all?

No!

What matters most is that you love yourself. What matters most is that you can heal from any past wounds and move forward, knowing that you are doing the best you can do, embracing all aspects of yourself; the good and the bad.

If we are forced to believe that we are a Type that we are not ready to accept, I fear we will regress and only turn inward, avoiding any and all aspect of that Type, which in turn will lead us to a life of pain.

I tell ya, had I not spent years of learning self love, having read a handful of books about self help, and experiencing trials that I know only the Good Lord gave to me as He was seeing my need for self knowledge and betterment, I would have wrongly typed myself by the time Carol Tuttle's book had reached my hands.

So when a friend says, "I'm a Type 2" when clearly they are a Type 4/1, do them a favor and congratulate them. And unless they ask for your opinion, don't give it. We do not know the paths our friends are leading. We do not know the darkness they are trying to escape from. We can't see the path they labored through to get to where they are.

Help them love themselves, all of themselves. That's better than telling them what they are and what they aren't.