Defeat.

Super cool original ceramic replica of a Polaroid Land Camera :)

"We shall find no enduring strength until we first admit complete defeat."

Twelve Steps, Step One

This inspired me this week, the idea that there is strength at the bottom, strength in brokenness. I struggle to hold on to his idea, even though I'm sure lots of people who know me would say otherwise, describing me as vulnerable. But the truth is, I like to look good. I talk big talk about trash and recycling, but deep down, I want people to think I have it all together and I want to look good.

I want to be a winner. I want to be the best. I don't want to admit my faults or flaws. I don't want the world to see the ugly parts of me.

It's easier to be vulnerable when deep down I think I have it all together, and the vulnerability is a nice persona. It's harder when it's the real thing, when the vulnerability is raw and needy and broken because that's where I am.

Defeat.

An imperfect life.

I ridiculously love Degas, and have since I was a kid

I've been trying for a long time to have my perfect life, to be the perfect me, to get to the edge of my potential. Is it possible that I've been trying so hard to be awesome that I've neglected how awesome I already am, just as I am?

I've recently learned that I'm a pretty attractive person. Heretofore, I still held the beliefs bestowed upon me as a child: that I was annoying, dressed like a man, had terrible hair, and just generally looked horrible all the time. So naturally I assumed these things meant that I was ugly, and unlovable. Funny thing is, I'm not ugly, and I'm pretty damn lovable. All of that time spent believing the lies made me create a persona to cope with the ugliness. Everything I wear is an attempt to not look decrepit. I avoid certain hairstyles because they accentuate my utter awfulness. I exercise and eat healthy because it keeps me from looking horrifyingly ugly.

But now I know these things are a lie. Every. Single. One. So now what? How do I find out who I really am under all of the things I've put on to keep from showing the world the ugliness underneath? How do I become someone who is completely herself whilst still communicating health and well-being in my professional life? Where is the perfect middle and how do I get there?

And what happens if I stop striving for perfection altogether?

Marry me. Own me.

Thank you, Mr. Rochester, for your great kindness. I am strangely glad to get back again to you: and wherever you are is my home—my only home.

― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

My big term paper in 12th grade AP English was about Jane Eyre, specifically the concept of love in Jane Eyre. I've been trying to create my home my entire life. I never had one place that I could call home. I had a smattering of locations, and all of them together just wasn't home. But I found a home inside myself that I carried with me everywhere. It was safe. I made forts with pillows and blankets and my pink depression glass lamps I've had my whole life; and I would read The Boxcar Children and Nancy Drew. I don't remember a lot of snacks, but my mother often bought graham crackers, so those I remember more than anything else. That was my "home".

I was told that my real home would someday be with a partner, a husband. He would give my life meaning. He would take all of the idiosyncrasies about me and somehow create meaning from them. He, this unknown person, was the only way I could become whole and complete. He was the only way  that someone would care about me the way I imagined was possible. He would care that I hate watermelon and love swings at the fair. He would listen to me when I wanted to talk, because it would be his job to listen and care. In sum, my future husband would love me the way no one else could.

Well I'm 31 years old, and I'm not married. I've never been married. I haven't met this amazing person who is going to save me, change my life so completely I'll finally be whole. So I've had to learn along the way that life is too hard to wait for this person to arrive. Life is too long to wait for someone that may never come.

Whatever the truth, I've learned that one person doesn't "complete" another person, and so to even strive for that is a futile occupation. Don't I deserve to be complete all on my own? Don't I deserve to be loved all on my own? And don't I deserve to be fully known without a spouse? Yes, yes, and a resounding yes.

So I find my home all within myself, and I carry it with me wherever I go.

You don't understand.

Taylor & Ng has an entire collection of animal orgy mugs - classic

There is something that happens when a woman becomes the only single person she knows. And the secret is that she knows plenty of other single people - they just don't count. I have been through season after season of seeing all of my friends get married, and having to make new friends. Now it's been about a decade, and a new normal has set in, a realization that this is my life. There's a good reason that the men I date are still single in their thirties. There's a good reason I'm single, I suppose. Girl can't take a hint.

After a while, after a breakup, I make a decision to just stop already. It's the smart thing to do. But then I go and do it again: open myself up, let my heart stretch and hurt and soften in ways it never has, and then I get to today, the morning after, and remember why my life is the way it is, even if it hurts sometimes and is lonely in a way that other people cannot possibly understand.

I wonder why God chooses some people to have lives of stability and love and family. I wonder why God hasn't chosen me for those things, why I'm different. I'm pretty tired of fighting it. Fighting God is futile. And the hope of beauty is only crushed when reality steps in and shows its ugly face.

I love presents!

I'm not much of a holiday gift giver. Yes, I may give you something for your birthday or for Christmas if it's already in my stash, but mostly I'm an everyday gift giver. I love giving presents so freakin' much - sometimes I can't stand it. I get giddy and smiley and I am so excited until the moment. Today I found the greatest thing, and I'm testing it out right now, and I'm dying to text the person to tell them that I got them an amazing present and I don't know how long I'll be able to wait to give it to them (no, it's not for you, or you, or you).

I don't think I really came into my own as a gift-giver until adulthood. I mean, I've always had the skill, the unusual talent, but I don't think that I appreciated how awesome it was, or realized how awesome it might be for other people until I'd reached my early twenties. I went through a period of time of giving lots of money away secretively. That was fun, and maybe too extravagant for that time in my life, but I did it. I gave lots of money to various ministries I supported and causes I believed in. Sometimes I gave because I felt like I had to (i.e. "God loves a cheerful giver"), but over time, I've stopped giving for that reason.

I was taught to tithe to the church, and I struggle with that. I thought that God would give me everything I needed, and then I would tithe out of that. But when I started to not have enough, I stopped giving to the church. Maybe my financial dire straights (not really dire, just full of debt) are due to this, to my lack of faith. But then I think back to all the times I gave so much to people in need, out of my own abundance, and wish that I could somehow receive that back in kind. Money is funny. That's all I'll say.

I might last another 24 hours. This thing is so perfect, I can't stand it.