If I Die Young...

-
If I die young
Bury me in satin.
Lay me down
On a bed of roses.
Sink me in the river, at dawn.
Send me away with the
Words of a love song.

~ The Band Perry
-

Mortality is a fact of life. Some people think about it. Some don't. I do.

In our petty North American culture of speak-your-mind-without-offending-people-or-pushing-your-belief-system-or-generally-disturbing-the-facade-of-peaceful-rich-white-life that we spend millions of dollars and thousands of hours trying to keep strong, subjects like death and sex have no room to be anything but scary topics banished to the broom closet only to be dragged out at 'appropriate' times like premarital counseling and writing of wills. In other cultures (thinking Europe here), they take on an entirely different connotation and people *gasp* ACTUALLY TALK ABOUT THEM.

Several unfortunate and sad recent events have, however, brought the fragility of life to the forefront of public discussion. It is becoming apparent to everyone that your perfectly scripted and manicured existence can be irrevocably shattered in an instant, and sometimes there is nothing you can do but stare death in the face. Do we know how to handle it? Do YOU know how to handle it? I really don't think most of us are ready to face that reality ahead of time... I also think 'ahead of time' is the best time to be ready.

Confession time: I have, for the past (almost) decade, believed...and still do... that I will die young. Of course that term is relative, so let's say before I'm forty. There is no particular reason, although there are contributing factors - namely that I have diabetes (which I will admit that I often manage much more poorly than I should... But that's another story. Message me) and also that I am pursuing a career that will quite likely take me to places where I will become a target of unnamed groups with guns and keys to the local impoverished, torturous jail. Mostly though, it's just a gut feeling.

I'm not bothered by the fact that I'll die. Everyone does, and I'd rather die early fighting for justice and showing love to troubled people than in my eighties or nineties never having lived the life I dream about now. Ever since I can remember, even before choosing journalism as a career, I decided I wanted to die saving someone else's life. I have watched hundreds of crime fighting shows and action movies imagining myself jumping in front of the bullet or pushing the character out of the way just as the car hits me. Maybe that's weird, but if the opportunity ever arose where it was my life against someone else's, I'd rather die for them and by imagining it I figured I wouldn't feel afraid when the time came.

What does bother me are the people I know who I (metaphorically speaking, of course) would miss. You always hear about people who lived wishing they could've spoken to the person who passed just one more time, said that one more thing... What if we reverse it? What if the person dying never got the chance to say everything they needed or wanted to say before their life ended? Terminal patients talk about this often, but I'm thinking more along the lines of a drive by shooting or a car accident. Or even if you, or someone you love, just relocates or circumstances change and you don't get to tell them how much they meant to you. What then?

My dilemma.

Especially in the wake of the shootings and the bombing in the States over the past year... I've made the decision to take every chance I have to let people know I love them and why I do. Because things happen, and if my gut feelings are true and I do die 'before my time' I want those people to know beyond a shadow of a doubt how I feel about them. Why is that a dilemma? I know you're asking. In itself, it is not; the dilemma is how much is too much? One text a week saying I love you? A Facebook message after a month or two telling you how amazing you are and that I'm proud of you and proud to be your friend? If you're going through a rough time, is a daily reminder of why you're a blessing going to get annoying? What about a letter once or twice a year detailing what you mean to me and why?

I have done all of these. Some were well received, others weren't. Some have no reply, even months after I pressed the Send button. Other people... and these are the ones I'm most worried about... Seem to appreciate them less and less over time. I try not to get overwhelming or annoying, but there are just times where I feel really strongly that I need to let my loved ones know that I love them; to confirm that they matter in case something happens to me or the relationship, in case it's Game Over and I don't get another turn. Maybe it's because I need to be validated in my friendships and by validating others I hope to get it in return. Maybe it's because I believe I won't last. Maybe it's something else entirely that drives this message madness... Maybe it's a combination of all of those.

Maybe it's good, maybe it's bad... but I'm done with maybes. So if you're out there and I annoy you, I'm sorry... and I'm not sorry. You see, I'd rather err on the side of you knowing then for me to walk out the door tomorrow and tragically die, not having told you how much I love you.

Lying to Myself

When you're tired is never a good time to think, and probably not to write. Unfortunately, I'm now doing both.

What I'm writing about is what I'm thinking about, and what I'm thinking about is how powerful lies are. You may not believe in God and Satan, but I do, and that devil sure knows how to throw a good punch in when I'm alone.

It's a reoccurring thought to me, this lie that I'm finding very difficult to fight against... It's hard to put into one sentence, but in a nutshell, I often doubt my own likability and whether people actually enjoy having me around or if they just tolerate it because they're being polite... Or maybe worse, because I can do something for them.

I don't think they'd intentionally use me, but that's a big section of this reoccurring thought, and it has a lot to do with my relationships with most males.

You see, it goes like this. I'll have a friend. Friend posts sad status. I write friend. We start talking. I help friend fix problem/listen to friend. They feel happier. We slowly stop talking. Aaannnd. Repeat cycle.

Or like this week, where it happened twice in two days... People say things that aren't actually hurtful, but cause me to think that I'm just not the kind of person that is destined to make new friends and although I'll never be an outcast (I won't let myself) I'll never really fit in. I just feel so awkward.

A good example is in class at college. Teacher asks for interaction, so I interact. I want to learn, to hash out ideas, to receive feedback. Especially since nobody else volunteers much. But if I respond to every question, does that make me stand out as some kind of teacher's pet or a crazy keener? My problem isn't that I'm unaware of social stigmas. It's that I don't know where I stand within them, and I feel like it puts a huge barrier between me and other students I'd like to get to know; simply because I don't know if they like me, hate me, don't care, tolerate me because they have to... It's all behind a facade, a polite "I'm an adult and I'll treat you nicely because that's what I'm supposed to do" mask. It frightens me.

It's not just with strangers or new acquaintances either. As with the friend example on Facebook earlier, I more and more often find myself wondering how many people I thought liked me really only tolerate my existence because a) it's required, b) they can get something from me, or c) because I want to be friends with them.

It's not like I don't believe I have any friends. There is a core group of about ten, mostly from church or school and going years back, that I know truly enjoy my companionship, and I theirs. Even amongst those, however, the little lie that I'm too weird finds a hold. Those days when I want to imagine fairies because they are more fun and intriguing than real life, or when I laugh at stupid things like paper clips, or talk about something like dogs for hours and bring in facts that nobody cares about, let alone knows.

I've always revered Anne Shirley of Green Gables for her optimistic view of life and inclusion of a dreamworld of fairies and wood spirits, where sunbeams are always dancing and the ocean sings an alluring song. I've tried to model my life after hers, keeping the magic of childhood imagination alive and not caring what people think... But I've found that caring about others' opinions of me has slowly taken a stronger and stronger hold.

So now I worry about whether I will have to grow out of a world of fantasy, where telling stories, and being open about life and its pain and mystery, because it's childish and weird. I worry that I'll always be the person people ask for advice because I'm good at it (which I think is because I can imagine and empathize!) but that I'll never be the one to pursue; you can talk to a dreamer of fantasy, but trying to build a relationship on an understanding of dream's dreams isn't an option.

I don't know if I've made my dilemma understandable or not. Suffice to say that I don't feel normal, and I doubt I will ever begin to understand what is normal and when I've crossed the line. In turn that means that I'm constantly weirding people out or making them uncomfortable, and wondering what kind of person I am. Which makes me feel like I can't trust that my friends actually like me (even the good ones, sometimes).

Which makes me feel alone.

But I know I'm not alone. Even if some of that ramble is true for some people, not all of it can be true for everybody. And I do have friends that have stuck with me for years and years and still call when they haven't heard from me in awhile. In my head, that counts for something. It means that I am loved, and missed, and they wouldn't call if they didn't care, right? Right.

But just as that's all settled and decided, the little thought comes - "but what if he's just there to see your sister?" "What if she said yes because you said you'd do most of the work, and for free?" "What if she doesn't actually like you?" Finally, inevitably, it leads to the question of whether or not I'm even likable, and this battle in my head between my brain and my heart begins again.

But I do believe I'm important. I do believe that people like me - that someday, someone will like me enough to kiss me and ask me to be his wife. That someday I'll figure out who I am and where I belong in the scheme of people's attitudes.

Don't bother writing nice comments about how I'm lovely and this is all ridiculous... Everyone does it all the time after someone posts something like this. But I'm not looking for that. To tell you the truth, I wouldn't believe it because that's what you're supposed to say. I just want people to understand, I guess... And I wanted to leave my thoughts in another place because in my head they're interrupting what could've been an hour of sleep by now.

I promise though, to you and to me, that someday, I'll stop allowing myself to lie to myself.

Dithering

Is a word. A word that very adequately describes my feelings about the world and its general population at present. I am so fed up with so much of our nice North American daily life, our 'highly idealistic' (to much of the world, anyway), boring, introverted, just take the money and run lifestyle.

It's not that I feel I'm superior, or even that I really dislike what we have. It's amazing that we are so blessed as to even be able to THINK the way we do, where Starbucks has become the cornerstone to millions of people's days, but sometimes I wish we were different.

I think that our great wealth and influence has poisoned us a population. After all, we're 'tripping' North Americans, white supremacists, power hungry, money collectors, drug cartels; you name it, it's in town if not right in the backyard, and of course it comes with a little of that homegrown swag rich kids are so fond of.

So much of what our society values is beyond useless. They are absorbed in a culture and attitude of pleasure by right, and we are passing it onto the entire world because we're at the top. Even now, I'm writing this from an iPad. I too am guilty of buying into this global phenomenon called, to put it simply, Stuff.

But Stuff is very broad and inconclusive; too generalized to be of use. So I will define it as it pertains to my world. Stuff can include, but is not limited to, property, physical attributes, relationships, social adeptness, self worth, communication... I could go on.

What bothers me about Stuff is the profound lack of substance bequeathed to different subjects. Clothing is required as part of our system of respect, and it helps if it's well tailored, but the emphasis is put on nothing more than sexual draw. Every model out there over five years old embodies (or attempts to embody) that hard-sought-after idea of 'cool, smooth, sexy' because the majority of the population has learned that appearance is utmost, and it has nothing to do with your professionalism or style. All that matters is that you show off the right form in the right places.

That is an overused example, but one that everyone relates to - as, sadly, it still rings true in a goodly proportion of cultures around the planet.

This concept has bothered me much in years of late, but never so much as in recent months as I learn more about the social networking site Twitter.

I have a Twitter account, which I use moderately and enjoy. There are aspects that are incongruent with Facebook that appeal to myself and to many others. A friend stated it as such: "Facebook is more about responding. Twitter is simply about sharing information." I like that.

On my Twitter, I've followed a few celebrities I'm interested in from favorite television shows, music and movies. Many post little thoughts and photos here and there and I enjoy seeing a bit of their real world instead of what media portrays. However, there is a concurrence among popular Tweeters (not just celebs, either) that it is okay to bribe fans for followers for other accounts. A common example would run something like this:

(Celebrity Name)
I will follow the next 300 people who follow (Comedy Twitter)

(Comedy Twitter)
If you're not following ________ then delete your twitter; it's not worth having.

Sometimes, the celebrity makes good on the bribe and follows those who let them know they followed so and so.

A personal example concerns Taylor Lautner and a girl named Daena in Texas. I followed Taylor because I appreciate his acting ability and laid back character in interviews. He posted a status asking people to follow Daena's account because she wanted to reach 100 followers.

Now, Daena asks the same thing for other people, and promises to DM (direct message, private between two tweeters) the names of those who follow the other person to Taylor.

Another thing that bothers me about twitter is something called fangirling. If you don't know what that is, find a video online of any celeb walking down an average street. They are ganged up on by screaming adolescent and pre-pubescent females begging for pictures and hugs. That is the craziness now known as fangirling, and tweeters are professionals. Especially if it involves the new artist group One Direction.

Every day there are 'trending topics'; things people are currently tweeting most about. And every day, there is something involving 1D.

My point is not to hate on the new boy band, but to point out the frivolousness of fangirling. Chances are VERY huh you won't meet them, let alone date or marry them. An interest is fine, but why waste hours of daylight and detain needed sleep gazing at pictures?

On the same note, why is it SO important to have thousands of followers? Is it enough to justify online bribery and on occasion, bullying, just to see the number rise by a few hundred?

We have lost that which made our society great - the art of communication. We know how to type and can adeptly lessen an Internet insult by adding a cute :P face to the end of a statement. Come face to face with another person, and there's nothing to talk about, and sticking your tongue out is inappropriate.

We have also lost the desire to gain wisdom and knowledge. Our attitude is very much that of the observant at most street beggar who relies on public nicety to get him through the day.

I get so angry when I see young girls speaking about parties, relationships as if they are the only things that matter. Even issues like gender equality have emerged as meaningless because it's 'cool' to support homo and heterosexuals having the same opportunities; if you asked the average 14-25 year old about their reasons for support, perhaps one in ten could give a decent answer.

I'm bored, I'm frustrated, and I simply cannot handle the apathy of our society any longer. Their practice of dithering their way through life, focusing on the superficial, is the most annoying thing I have ever come across.

At the same time, as much as I'd like to avoid the human race forever and bury my nose in books of learning, I get lonely. As a result, I haven't yet found an adequate solution to my problem and the annoyance lives on.

The Inconvenience of Convenience

[Note: I meant to write this weeks ago, but thought it wasn't "big" enough... but it's still festering in my mind and someone mentioned I hadn't written in a while so I decided short or not, I'm posting. Hope you like.]

Anyways, let's get to it. I walked into one of our locations on campus at work a few weeks ago to deliver something, and noticed a new sign:

"The deli will close at 8pm tonight. Sorry for any inconvenience."

... and the proverbial bomb went off. Are we so helpless?

You see, what struck me was knowledge that yes, some students WOULD be disconcerted, even upset, that this one section of the store closed early (salad bar, grill, snack sections etc. were still open) and our management would probably be getting a letter or two from some kid too stubborn to simply pick something else that day. I was angered, and I do not believe it was unjustly.

My thoughts traveled to a conversation I had with my dad and his girlfriend when they were here last, about the technological move to online forms of communication. Their position was, and quite correctly, that kids, teens, and even adults are losing their ability to facilitate a face-to-face conversation. Because of constant use of texting, social networking sites, and other similar communication modalities, when two people (especially young people) find themselves in the physical presence of another person, they find themselves actually at a loss for words.

This is a problem. It derives from that phenomenon we call convenience. I mean, that is why we do it, isn't it? I'm sure it isn't because we intentionally don't want to know how to deal with our fellow humans when we can't just rudely walk away from the screen and ignore their anger (portrayed by CAPITAL LETTERS of course - easy to ignore!) No, that isn't the reason.

We do it because it's fast. It's cheap. It takes two seconds to text ten people; calling those ten to repeat the same information ten times would take twenty minutes, and what if they don't answer? A text can and will wait in a person's memory until they actually receive and read it... A phone call can't do that as efficiently.

And so goes the argument. There are thousands of valid reasons that wireless communication has gained the standing it has, and whether people realize it or not, it does affect everyone. I am going to England because of Facebook. I will be staying in touch through FaceTime, Skype, Twitter, Facebook, email, texting... you get the idea. I bought my airline tickets and travel insurance online. It all has its uses, and as we advance in the idea of a global village, it is becoming more and more important that we understand those uses and how they affect us and our families.

However, my parents' fears - and many others' fears - are not ungrounded. All of these technologies are driven by one idea - convenience.

So how long will it be before our children don't learn to write because it's more convenient for them to type? Before teachers teach from the comfort of their homes through video conferencing? Let's get really far fetched and ask ourselves how many years till we start ordering eggs and semen online from potential partners because it's too inconvenient to even have sex for procreation?

A good many years - or never - we hope... But reality may prove otherwise. So what can we do to slow, or stop, this solitary, computer-based culture from developing? Or, should we even try?

Fifty years ago, society knew much better than it does today what it means to work for reward - financial, relational, pleasurable, or otherwise. They knew how to communicate with their brethren because they had to. In this age, we don't "have to" - it's too easy and convenient to ignore responsibility towards both yourself and others. We are more impatient, harder to please, increasingly lazy. This thing, convenience, has changed the face of the world as we once knew it.

But how far is too far - and when do we know?

Fireflies' Dreams.

There is a song by the country singer Faith Hill entitled, "Fireflies".  It's about the innocence of a child's dreams, and how as we grow we often lose that ability to look beyond the limits of reality, to imagine the impossible and maybe, even make it happen.  (Listen to it here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TnRPzpA4VCA)

Every little girl knows what a princess is, and aspires to be one.  Granted, some want to be like Cinderella, dressed in beautiful gowns and crowns and giving tea parties and dances.  Others, such as myself, take more to figures like Princess Zelda from the popular Nintendo games series.  She has the dress, but she is also very prone to jump into monster-slashing battles alongside the game hero Link.  Best of both worlds. 

Whatever she likes doesn't matter.  What matters are two very important ideas:  the first idea being that she is both beautiful and valuable as she is (another huge topic for a different blog), and the second idea being that she can dream. 

dream (drm) n.

1. A series of images, ideas, emotions, and sensations occurring involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep.

2. A daydream; a reverie.

3. A state of abstraction; a trance.

4. A wild fancy or hope.


5. A condition or achievement that is longed for; an aspiration: a dream of owning their own business.


6. One that is exceptionally gratifying, excellent, or beautiful
 
[Emphasis added]

Take a close look at the last three definitions, the ones I've italicized.  To put that all into one feasible idea, a dream can be broken down into parts:

> Wild, Fancy - something so big it would never happen in one's regular day-to-day life
> An Aspiration, Achievement - a goal, something that can worked towards> Gratifying, Beautiful - something so lovely and enjoyable it couldn't be forgotten

In one sentence, a dream is something that you normally wouldn't experience, but would never never forget if it was to happen, and it something you can earn.

That, however, is an adult's way of looking at it.  A child simply says, "I wish I had a pony."  She imagines the pony in her yard, where she could pet it and groom it and ride it, where her and the pony would be best friends and spend each day together in each other's company.  An adult making the same wish says, "I would love to have a horse.  I wish that I could have money to buy it, a place to keep it, time to ride and take care of it, and the knowledge to train it."

We have been corrupted by our own adulthood.  No longer are we able to just dream; all our dreams are accompanied by limitations.

Not to say that you can just have a horse.  The adult is right in forseeing the responsibilities that would come with ownership.  But the dream itself, the idea and longing, should still reign free, unfettered by the world-weary harness of responsibility.

When I was younger, I watched shows like the Lion King and Kratts' Creatures.  I dreamed of what it would be like to be in a lion's natural habitat, to see a warthog in a mud hole, to gaze upon herds of gazelles and zebras as they paraded across the savannah.  I knew, because of school, that they lived on the other side of the world.  I had an idea that it would take a very long time and a lot of money to ever get there on a plane or ship.  But I never connected that with the possibility that I could go.  Little me, in Kelowna, never expected to somehow wind up beside a majestic lion on the other side of the planet.  I didn't understand that I could just pay for a plane ride, but I never gave up on dreaming.  As Cinderella says in her little song, "A dream is a wish your heart makes."

When I was young, Africa to me seemed impossible.  I had a heart wish to see it, but what could a girl do?  Turns out, anything I want.  Because dreams don't have to stay dreams forever.  Either you lose them, or you use them.  I used my dream.  Two years ago, I spent six hours in a van watching lions and giraffes in the Masai Mara National Reserve in Kenya, Africa. 

Right now, I'm making another childhood dream come true.  I've always wanted to explore castles, and forever been fascinated with kings, queens, and the history, adventure, and romance in the tales of Robin Hood and King Arthur with his Knights of the Round Table.  I thought, years ago, that because these things were hundreds of years old, they were gone.  In a sense, that is true - the culture of royal courts and the excitement of swords and bows that attract us in those stories are things of the past.  But the castles and the people (although long dead) were and are still real, and many do exist even today.  And I'm going to see them.

I've been looking for and praying about an opportunity to visit the UK, more specifically Ireland and Scotland, for over a year.  I looked into a few different things that didn't really fit into my budget and time allowances, but I never stopped dreaming.  A few months ago now, I contacted a pastor in England asking for advice on who I could contact about potentially volunteering with a church or organization somewhere in the UK, and lo and behold, his own church can and I'm now staying with him and his wife for six weeks.  I'm also traveling to cities in Scotland, Ireland, Wales, and possibly France.

And even though I'm now an adult, and understand that I have to pay a whackload of money to go, and find places to stay, transportation, food, etc... even though I have to be "responsible" for every aspect of this trip, sometimes I just stop myself for a minute.  Thinking about all of that, and trying to plan a two month excursion for myself, by myself, gets stressful, even with the excitement and anticipation.  When I have the numbers and prices from thirteen different train stations listed in comparison to a Britrail pass and bus schedules for Dublin and it's all running around in circles in my brain, I stop.  Find a picture of one of the castles I plan to visit.  Close my eyes, forget temporarily about all the prices and options, and just imagine myself standing within the walls of a structure that's 700 years old and was visited by the royal families of three or four countries.  I just see myself inside the walls of the White Tower, or looking at the final resting place of King Henry VIII, and I know that no matter how much stress, worry, excitement, or anticipation courses through my head, I will always have that ability to go back to the simplistic dream of my childhood to 'see a real castle' - and to know that my dream, through my own planning and hard work, is coming true.

Two things I have learned through this process...

1)  God's timing and prayer never fail you.  I know now that had I been accepted into the YWAM program or a nannying position, I wouldn't have been satisfied.  All I wanted out of those was to travel; I was looking in the wrong place for the wrong reasons.  This opportunity provides exactly what I was looking for: the ability to travel and see lots of places and faces, but also to stay as part of a family and really experience the culture through eyes free of "tourist" glasses.  All things are possible through God if we wait patiently for Him to provide us with the reality of the vision, and remember that it doesn't - and usually, won't - come in the way we expect.
2)  Never stop dreaming.  As soon as you give up your heart's desires - however far they may seem now - you lose much of your reason to live.  The person who has nothing to dream about and aspire to has no reason to get up in the morning, outside of their personal responsibilities to family, work, the church, or anything else they've committed to.  However, the folks who get up every day because they 'have to' burn out more easily and faster than one would think possible.  Having a dream is a refreshing reminder that life doesn't have to be humdrum and gives us something to work toward, and when we reach the goal, a huge reward in the form of something that we've been waiting and wishing for, sometimes for years.

Something else I've come to learn has to do with the relationships in my life.  Having these dreams of traveling from my childhood being realized, it's showed me that God knows and remembers not only my needs, but my wants - even those I may not even yet know myself.  Another dream every little little girl imagines is being swept away by the fairytale handsome prince - and that one only grows stronger as we get older.  I used to dream of being done school, getting my driver's licence, and of course traveling.  I wasn't too concerned with boys when I was younger.  But as my dreams are either given up (such as being a pilot - not really into that anymore) or fulfilled, new ones take their places.  I dream now of having a career and a husband, and I know that even though I'm not one hundred perecent sure how those will happen yet, as long as I keep praying, waiting, and watching for an opportunity, when I am ready God will make those things happen, too.


PS: Did I mention I bought my plane tickets last night?

Purity In Its Purest Form

Ladies and gentlemen, I have an announcement!  I am a single young woman of marriagable age! 

Yes, I know you already know.  In fact, some may disagree.. many these days consider twenty too young.  But fact is, people my age (and younger!) are getting into relationships, getting married, and beginning families.  Many of us singletons simply watch in major confusion and ample jealousy as two people we know fall helplessly into this thing called "love", buy pretty rings, and pay exhorbitant prices for huge parties to proclaim their mutual fascination for each other to the rest of the world and solemnly promise to do their best to stay fascinated until they're old and wrinkly.

This naturally raises questions for us not quite so lucky ones. 

There is the whole mottled bottle of questions involving dating, what kind of a guy should I go out with, blah blah blah.. but many of us never dare to ask the questions we are most curious about: those involving sex.

We are sexual beings.  There's no denying that.  And the older we get, the more apparent it becomes.  I can't speak for everyone, but as I mature, the longings and the questions get deeper and deeper, as well as more confusing.  I know enough people that feel the same way to assume that statement is true for a good part of the population - especially if you are inexperienced in love.

So how do we answer those deepseated feelings?  Every girl struggles with complex issues about attractiveness, fear of rejection, of not being enough, of being alone... what is the right thing to tell a girl that will convince her everything will be okay, there is someone out there for you, and yes, you will find love...

Nobody knows for sure.  Some are very successful at it, but it takes years of practice, study, and many failures before they know how to make someone KNOW that everything's going to be okay.. and it's usually their own wives who help them figure it out.

Where do the rest of us turn to?  Unfortunately, that question is the the root of much of the young girl's problems today.  Many teens are too ashamed or afraid to ask, and parents find it much too awkward to approach.  So our nation's daughters get their answers about romance, love and sex from raunchy magazines and television shows that make your heart race and your brain swoon but contain little of reality or truth.

I was lucky enough to have a mom willing to share what she knew about relationships and sex, good and bad, complete or not.  But I am in the minority.  Too many young ladies have the wrong ideas about what it means to be in a relationship and undervalue the gift of their virginity.

I recently went online to look up advice on having sex the first time, to see what people my age and younger would be reading (and you can bet your life they do).  I also read some personal stories of first time sexual encounters.  Some I was encouraged by, but they were quickly outweighed by scenarios that belonged in R-rated movies.  Many stories contained comments that went along the lines of, "I didn't feel ready, but he wanted me to, so I just did it,", "We were holding hands, and one thing led to another..", and "I didn't want my first time to be like this, and I regret my choices."

Some websites were very clear about the physical details one could expect (amount of pain, etc), but the one thing I appreciated the most were the stories that admitted to feeling more pressure than pleasure.  90% of testimonies on those sites were from young girls and guys admitting to having sexual relations mid-teens, with someone they thought "loved them", only to break up a few weeks or months later and realize they'd wasted their gift on another who didn't care as much as they seemed to.

That REALLY bothers me.

Since the dawn of time, people have been struggling with one question.  It has many faces, but when you look past the weight loss, the makeup, the hair, the muscles, the cars, houses, boats, jobs... we all need to know: are we good enough?  And it has never been more prevalent than now.

It is my belief that society has a responsibility, and we are failing.  We are responsible to treat every person as a person and an individual, with individual needs, wants, and fears.  We are responsible to make our young people understand that they don't need what TV says they need in order to be accepted and productive members of society.  We are responsible to tell each twelve year old girl and boy that they do not need to be skinner, more muscled, more painted up, stronger.  That they don't need to have sex before they're sixteen.  That they are much more valuable than they think and believe and they don't have to prove themselves to anyone.

Because that's what they believe. 

But that's not what I believe.

I too, have questions.  I too desire a relationship and to experience love and sex and all that goes with it.  I'm preprogrammed to do so, and media today sadly isn't helping to solve the probelm.  But I know that unless I'm ready, with the right man, at the right time, things will go sour quicker than warm milk.  I know that waiting for a covenant marriage, where my husband and I have committed to walk together for life, will be worth all the pain, impatience, confusion, and unmet desire I struggle with now.

My solution?  I remember.  I remember every successful couple I've ever met, every unsuccessful relationship I've ever witnessed, all the broken young men and women that weren't sure what they wanted, and figured it out too late.  Then, I pray.  Pray for strength to wait.  Pray for wisdom in how I deal with the men in my life.  I even pray for the ones I'm attracted to or interested in, that they would have wisdom in their own lives and that God would work in them and remind them of how much they're worth. 

One of the most valuable tools to deal with the questions I've found is having close friends of the same sex who are willing to talk about it.  Friends who are going through the same struggles, same feelings, and will encourage you as you encourage them.

It's hard, but it will not last forever.  You are good enough.  I am good enough.  And someday, we'll all find the love we're dreaming of.

You might be reading this and thinking, this doesn't apply to me.  I'm 40 years old with three kids, a great husband, and a busy life.  Or, I'm 60 years old and have two grandkids.  Well, got news for ya.  You're wrong.  It very much applies to you, to your kids, to your grandkids, to your neighbours, the cop that pulled you over last week, and the man behind the counter at Tim's.  People's struggles don't end magically when they reach a certain age.  Fairytale weddings turn into horrific nightmares because of these issues.  Each of us knows what it feels like.  Each has influence.  Go out today and encourage someone.  Hopefully someday we'll convince the world.

Remembrances.

I have photos on my walls. 

Not uncommon.

They're photos of places, pets, past times, projects, and people.  Mostly people.  Many people.  Many people that I don't even speak to anymore.

The past three weeks I have been staring at particular sets of photos on my walls, gazing upon faces of princes familiar.  People I used to be really good friends with.  Maybe even family.  I was, at least, for one - a little sister.  But "used" is past tense.  Meaning what "used" to be is no longer.  Meaning it doesn't happen anymore.  I'm not anyone's little sister now.

My heart's been aching like I've never experienced before.  Friends come and go all the time.  It's happened a hundred, a thousand, countless times to me.  I always find new ones to fill the space.  But not this time. 

The walls are crumbling and the cracks are widening.  And I miss them.

And it hurts.

I don't understand why I miss these few particulars more than others in the past.  I certainly had good friends, even best friends, that moved away or changed schools and I lived on.  Maybe it's the way they went.

I do, however, understand why I miss them.  They made me happy.  I felt confident, appreciated, loved.  Maybe even pretty.  Protected.  Valued.  Sometimes even fun.

But it ended.  Not slowly, and not even with a goodbye from at least one of them.  Just dropped.  Like marshmallows in fire.  Bam.  Done.  Melted.  Burned and gone. 

Just. Gone.

I guess that it hurts because at one point, I meant something, more than just a friend, someone they cared about and spent time with.  Because I cared about them.  Invested my time, energy, wisdom, patience, and even cash.  For long periods of time.  Months.

Then circumstances change and they're just gone.  I feel so abandoned and forgotten.  I can't comprehend how you can spend four or five days a week with someone, then go from that to not even a shred of communication in less than two months.  Because I tried.  Facebooked, texted, called.  Knocked on doors when I could.  Nothing worked.  I was relocated to the back burner, set on very low heat, and forgotten about.  Maybe even turned off all the way.

My head's telling me that I don't need friends like that.  That it's good they're not talking to me, because it just proves that they don't care enough to put effort into it anyway.  That I should just give up and move on and find people who will put the time in.  That I'm better off this way.

But my heart misses those who were close.  Maybe I can't have them back the way things were, but I wish I could have them back at all.  Even one conversation, just to show me they haven't forgotten.  That life just got in the way, communication broke down, I'm sorry, they're sorry, and we'll fix it.  Have coffee.

But I know that most, if not all, won't repair themselves the way I wish they could.  And I know that's something I'll have to learn to live with.  Because I'm an adult now, and I have to choose what kind of people I want to be around.  There will be new friends, and old ones.  And there will be people with whom it is better to break contact with, regardless of how I feel about them.  But there will also be people, and one specific person eventually, who will be able to fill every void I've felt and am feeling and will feel.  When I learn to let go, and stop allowing this kind of situation to affect my happiness. 

Welcome to life.  Wish it was easier.  It's not.  No cake walks.  Just bushwhacking.