Check Your Entitlement: Love & Impatience

Patience is key. Photo credits to my lil sis Eleanor.

Wow, it's been a really long time since I last wrote. I know I say that every single time, and it kills me that it takes me so long to come out with content. I frustrate myself a lot of the time. I digress though..

I saw something on Facebook today. It always starts like that, doesn't it? Anyway, it was shared by a couple people and I couldn't help but clicking on the link to read more and enlighten myself. The interesting thing is that it was an article that was written in April, so a few months ago. The title is very explicit, raw, and it de me question myself, my friends, and my generation:

"We are the generation that doesn't want relationships."

As I read through the article (which you should definitely read, by the way, because it says something very interesting about our generation), I couldn't help but feel a lot of things at once. I felt sad, because ultimately, this article illuminates a truth that our generation embodies. We are a generation of instant gratification, fuelled by our own impatience and narcissism. We pride in posting the best photo with the best filters and best caption in hopes of getting the most likes. If something comes off at first blush as difficult, we try and cut corners. If something takes too long, we move on. We get bored way too easily, and this video by College Humour definitely will test that for you. We've de-evolved, with the attention span of a goldfish, and I think that the same can be said about relationships, particularly that of the romantic kind. That guy that you're interested isn't responding to your moves? Don't waste your time, they tell you. Move on, there are other fish in the pond. That girl doesn't want to move to second base yet? Find someone who can, and will.

Yikes.

On the other hand, I felt slightly angry after reading this. Who are these people, telling us that our generation has no self-control? It's a sweeping statement that definitely isn't true for everyone. It's true that technology and social media has greatly impacted the way that we communicate and ultimately date, but that doesn't deny the fact that humans still crave intimacy, friendship, and relationships.

I guess the one thing that I do agree with is that sometimes we only are in love with the idea, the concept, but not an actual person. We sometimes prematurely fall under the guise of being "in love" when things are going good: the object of your affection is texting you non-stop, you coincidentally match your outfits, your Snapstreak is on fire... all things that, on the surface, are just that. It's all surface-level, superficial love.

What I have noticed is that there is no depth. There is no patience, no effort. And I realize that that too is a blanket statement; not everyone is like that. But the real test of depth and love is through the tough times. Relationships are not perfect, and love is not perfect. But therein lies to truth as to whether or not you are truly in love, as in, whether or not you are ready to make sacrifice for the other person.

That sacrifice, along with hardwork, makes it all worthwhile. The second to last paragraph in this article really drives the point home:

We feel entitled to love, like we feel entitled to full time jobs out of college. Our trophies-for-everyone youth has taught us that if we want something, we deserve it. Our over-watched Disney VHSs taught us true love, soul mates, and happily ever after exist for everyone. And so we put in no effort, and wonder why our prince charming hasn’t appeared. We sit around, upset that our princess is no where to be found. Where is our consolation prize? We showed up, we’re here. Where’s the relationship we deserve? The true love we’ve been promised? (via Huffington Post)

And I think that is where the biggest problem is: our sense of entitlement. The world is a tough place, and the only way that we will be able to get by is if we put our head down and work. We can't expect things to be handed to us on a silver platter while we stand by idly and find the perfect selfie to post. Regardless of what you want, be it a job, a solid grade, or a relationship, you need to work for it. It's actually quite a simple concept, and yet we are all stuck with our heads in the sand, waiting for someone to give us what we want.

I definitely have my own work cut out for me, and I know that in the end it will all be worth it. And it will be, for you too!

Thank you, Michael Scott. (via giphy.com) 

To end on a positive note, I've finally figured out how to make Spotify Playlists! For a digital native I'm pretty horrible at this stuff...

I wanted to share with you a playlist that I put together. It is sort of topical, as it is entitled Foreslsket, which is Norwegian for "the word for when you start to fall in love". So, spoiler alert, it's a collection of mellow love songs! Another spoiler alert, you need a Spotify account to access it!

But yeah, here's the link to the playlist as well as the song list:

1. "In Her Arms You Will Never Starve" x Copeland
2. "Crush" x Yuna ft. Usher
3. "What Would I Have To Do (After Party Remix)" x David Myles
4. "Brand New" x Ben Rector
5. "Closer to Love" x Mat Kearney
6. "Lover Come Back" x City and Colour
7. "I Choose You" x Sara Bareilles
8. "Craving (Acoustic Version)" x James Bay
9. "Don't Lose Your Love" x Ivan & Aloysha
10. "Romance" x CRSB

Shout out to the folks at Flux and Folk for the playlist/music sharing inspiration! They have some pretty nifty stuff on their blog - go check it out! You'll be glad that you did :) !

That's all from me - take care of yourselves, love out loud and be patient. Good things are on their way!

x R

Lacking in Love

The emotional rollercoaster never lets anyone rest, it seems.

I'm going to spare details and just get right to the chase: Life is interesting, life is strange, life is frustrating. 8/10 you don't get what you want, and on the odd chance that you do, you better be really careful for what you wish for.

However, the other 1/10 times, life works out. And more often than not, this clarity comes over time. They say that hindsight is 20/20 and I am really seeing now that this is true. It sucks, but it is. If I had known that all of this were to happen and that I would eventually feel the way I do right now, then I would have stopped myself ages ago.

But then again, would I really have listened?

Recently my anxiety hit a peak and I found myself feeling extremely stressed, overwhelmed, and depressed. It disturbed me because I got this tattoo that was supposed to be my symbol of strength. That was literally a week ago, and in a week, things have changed so much. Life was not going my way, and in fact it has probably the furthest from what I had ever wanted for myself.

The other night I had a much needed heart to heart with one of my closest and respected friends who is like an older sister to me. We talked for so long about what I was going through and how I was getting frustrated with myself. I was frustrated that time after time, I was finding myself in situations that were reruns of previous ones, particularly that of relationships with guys.

While we had our conversation I was reminded of something that I was told once when I was going through other hard times. God puts these situations in our lives not to make us miserable, but because He wants us to learn something, see from a new perspective, or gain strength from it. When it comes to learning something, most of the time situations can lead to instances of deja vu if we haven't learned from it. With that, my friend latched on to that and asked me what I thought God was trying to tell me.

I thought about this so, so hard, and I didn't get it. I reflected in a whirlwind all of the relationships that I had been, romantic or otherwise, where I had gotten hurt. And I didn't get it. Yes, some things were my fault and my own undoing, but other times, I was the one that got caught in the fire. So what was this lesson that He wanted me to so desperately learn?

She then asked me this: Did I love myself? Could I honestly say that I loved all of myself?

The answer was a solid and resounding no.

All my life I had gone saying the opposite: that I loved every flaw and part of my personality. I got knocked down so many times but continually told myself that I was okay and that I was doing just fine.

But over time, though I was saying all these positive things about myself to the rest of the world, I really wasn't believing it in myself. With every failed relationship, it was more reinforcement to me that I was incapable of love and that I didn't deserve to be loved.

Getting over people, whether it be a friend that you just don't talk to anymore or a guy that you liked for a really long time, is hard. Getting over missed opportunities or life's detours like not getting the job you wanted is hard. Any kind of loss is hard, but if you've done your due diligence, you worked hard and did everything out of love, then what more can you ask for?

(From http://www.doyouyoga.com/15-quotes-to-inspire-self-love-82227/)

This has been one of my biggest character flaws growing up, and recently it has been more rampid than ever. Admittedly I over think things a lot, I tend to go to the absolute negative and blame myself for everything that had happened. Bad things happened to bad people, I would tell myself. And over and over again I would show myself that I was a bad person. I know now that I shouldn't be doing that, and neither should anyone. We need to engage in positive self-talk, not so that we can one day worship ourselves and think of ourselves as better than others, but to remind ourselves that we are here, and that we are trying. And if we are trying our best, then that's all that we - and the world - can really ask for.

I recognize that this is not going to be an overnight change, and that I can't expect myself to automatically begin loving myself once I hit publish on this piece. I am a work in progress, and my life is a beautiful story, and more often than not I forget the real reason as to why I am here.

Do your best and be yourself. Be someone who doesn't just say love, but is and shows love, and finally, keep on fighting the good fight.

Stay awesome,

x R

INKED // in it for the long haul

Most people that know me know that I'm a pretty safe person. I'm a pretty wimpy person. I'm not good with roller coasters or horror films, I will probably never go sky diving or bungee jumping, and if you had asked me years and years ago, I would have probably said "no" to the possibility of getting a tattoo.

But I guess people change and Rachels get a lot less wimpy. In fact, I would like to think that this particular Rachel, over time, has become pretty bad ass.

30 minutes after the deed was done

And no, I'm not suggesting that I'm going to get a motorbike license and join a cool all female biker gang anytime soon.

Let's go back to the tattoo for a second.

August 3, 2016 will go down in my personal history as a momentous day and a personal victory for me. That's because on this day, I marched proudly into a tattoo parlour downtown, confidently sat down in the chair and didn't flinch until it was over. It's official, friends: Rachel has a tattoo.

Okay, so maybe most of that was embellished. Emma, my friend who accompanied me and served as cheerleader and chief hand holder, would testify that I walked in a nervous manner all the way down. I wearily signed the forms that I was finally of age to sign on my own, and I almost suggested to the tattoo artist that he tape down my arm so that I wouldn't move. It was kind of embarrassing actually. However, I can say for certain that I didn't cry, and that I hung on until the very end.

I now know how I'm going to be like when I have my first born child: I can't stop looking at this beautiful thing on my body.

So what exactly did I do to myself?

On my right wrist, off to the left side, I got a semi-colon that is probably about the size of a quarter. Not overbearingly big, and not so small that it could pass for a ($100, cosmetically added) birth mark. It's prominent and it's important to me.

At this point you're probably asking all the why's: why a semi-colon? Why that location? Why get it now? Why get it at all?

Cool, okay. I love questions. I also love answering them. So:

Why a semi-colon? The explanation is actually twofold, and it works even more now than it did when I first had the idea of this particular tattoo.

When I was in high school, I was first introduced to the proper use of a semi-colon. One of my English teachers lamented how kids these days would use the semi-colon incorrectly in their written work. I made it my personal mission to prove that I knew how to use it. According to The Oatmeal,  "the most common way to use of the semi-colon is to connect two independent clauses."

About that same time, I had hit a brick wall with my emotions, relationships, and overall well-being. I was depressed, skipping class, getting into fights and arguments, pushing my friends away and consistently anxious. I wanted to run away and just tell people to leave me alone, but I couldn't deal with the silence and my own thoughts. I spent months - years even - pretending like everything was solid, everything was good, everything was awesome. But the people that got the abuse were people that didn't deserve it at all. I tried so hard to blend in with the rest of the school, but with each day I risked falling deeper into my thoughts and having a sudden and angry outburst. Panic attacks were frequent and at one point I couldn't handle the overwhelming emotions. I couldn't handle my pain and I couldn't handle how I was treating people. I couldn't handle myself, and if this was what life was supposed to be for me, I had no choice in my mind but to commit suicide. I had countless thoughts, numerous plans and wills and suicide notes typed up and written out.

But one night while I was brewing in my own demise, I came across this simple device, the semi-colon, in a mental health context. At that time my thoughts were too jumbled to comprehend, so I left it alone. It stuck with me, however, and I would think about it all the time. As I started to get help, I slowly re-integrated myself back into life as I once knew it, with more ups than downs, and realizing that my emotions were okay to have. That bad days come with the good days, and that I shouldn't be ashamed of what I was feeling.

It wasn't until earlier this year that I came face to face with the semi-colon again. This time I fully understood the meaning of it in the context of suicide:

"A semicolon is used when an author could've chosen to end their sentence, but chose not to. The author is you and the sentence is your life."

As a writer (or someone that loves writing and takes it very seriously), the use of the semi-colon as a metaphor for my life journey was enlightening to me.

Why that location? You know those pesky ideas that you become so enamoured with that you just can't let go? That was me and this tattoo. Forget my pain tolerance, forget my parents, forget disapproval for a second. This was about me and this tattoo. Once I found out what the semi-colon truly meant, I woke up the next morning looking at my right wrist, and I could see it right there. I put my left index and fourth finger there, as if I was feeling my pulse. The spacing was perfect and it just clicked. From then on, I knew that that was the place it was destined to go.

But why now? 20 seemed like a reasonable age, in part because I was already age of majority (and therefore didn't need my parents to sign anything), and also because it was three years in the making. I knew that this was a life investment and that I couldn't rush into it. When the idea was first conceived at 17, I gave myself a year to think about it and see if it was something that I really wanted to get. Though I didn't think about it constantly, things would remind me of this semi-colon. Over time it became more and more prominent, and as mentioned above, this year proved to be the year that tipped me over the edge. As for date, there really is no significance. I decided to be spontaneous for once: I booked the appointment on a Friday, and the following Wednesday I was walking into the tattoo parlour. The rest is history.

But why get one at all? This is what my parents asked me all the time in the lead up to it actually happening. Is it really necessary to alter your skin in this way? they asked. It's permanent, they said.

Shout out to Oceanne for this amazing photo!

And yes, I am fully aware that I can't go in a week later and ask them to get rid of it. I got it not to spite my parents and not to pretend to be a rebellious and angsty kid. Ultimately this was for me, to serve as a reminder to myself that this was my past and that my future is full of potential. I hit bumps in the road, and even some major sink holes, but I climbed out of them and continued on. It also reminds me that my life will never be perfect and that there will be bad days, but it's my resilience and my faith and support systems that will keep me going.

As well, I wanted to show off that I am proud of my past and where I came from, and to show others that this is something that we need to discuss in our discourse. We're getting there, in the way of Bell Let's Talk day and other campaigns. But stigma still exists and people are still afraid to seek out help because of it. I hope that this small sign can be a sign of solidarity and openness.

Finally, this design also worked out to fit my pain tolerance, my ability to cover it up if needed, as well as it being simplistic if I want to walk around with bare arms.

To conclude, there are so many people I have to thank. Firstly to Mike, the tattoo artist, for being so zen and calm and just a great energy to be around while I got my first tattoo. All the staff at Adrenaline on Granville were just amazing and helpful, so I highly recommend. Emma, for being my chief handholder and the one that pushed me to follow my heart on this one - my gratitude for you runs so deep and I am so honoured to call you a friend. My family, for supporting me through the tattoo even though we may not have seen eye to eye on it at the beginning - thank you for loving me all the same, through my hardships and struggles, and for helping me find help when I can't find it myself. My friends for being my strength and support - I don't know what my life would be without you. And last but not least to my God, thank you for throwing me countless life preservers when I was drowning and keeping me afloat even on the nights when I was too weary to swim. I shunned you and shut you out and cursed your name, and yet you still love me and call me back home to open arms. Glory to you, Lord.

My story is far from being over, and I know that my struggles will still haunt me as life goes on. But knowing that I chose to continue my story instead of end it gives me so much joy and gratitude. I look forward to what is to come and am thankful for the second chance.

stay awesome,

x R

Let Go and Let God

Where's bae? 

The past week has been nothing short of an emotional roller coaster, and on top of that, I had the privilege of getting sick AGAIN. Hooray, immune system!

But seriously though, emotional.

Between the scripture readings at masses from the weekend of July 16-17 and this past weekend of July 23-24,homilies, a talk that initially I didn't even want to go to, and just what has happened over the past 10 days, it seems to me that God was successful in getting me to wake up. He also inspired me to write something after being in a dry spell for a few weeks, so thank goodness for that.

This past week I have been reminded, yet again, that I am only human and that my plans are not my plans alone. People that know me, regardless of how long they have known me, know that I am a very future oriented person. People that have gotten to know me recently will know that as of late I have been carrying around with me a pink planner hat my sister bought from me from Chapters. On the cover it cheekily says "I am very busy" on the front, and in all aspects of the phrase, I find that to be entirely true. When I look at the dizzying array of words, meetings, and tasks, I stress myself out. I think a lot about the future and where I see myself going and what I want.

What I want right now, in fact, is to be in a loving relationship with someone. I am craving companionship, someone special to call my boyfriend, and to grow in a loving relationship with them each and every single day. And I know that most of the time, it's just infatuation as opposed to love - and I've been already warning myself about this nearly a month ago.

Coming back home.

The past 10 days have been nothing short of God holding a megaphone to my head and telling me to snap out of it. Him telling me that He knows what is best for me, and that I should just sit back and enjoy the show. He knows what I need, He knows my inner most thoughts and feelings in my heart. And it's so simple, I just need to literally let go and let God.

But that's just the kind of person I am, a planner carrying, future thinking, constantly searching type of person. I need structure, I need balance, and I want to know what is waiting for me next week, next month, and next year. I spend so much time thinking about the future that sometimes I neglect to appreciate the stage of life I am in right now.

All this forward thinking, chasing after opportunities and guys that aren't right for me has pushed me out of respecting God's plan and being thankful for the person I am today in this particular moment. Over and over again this past week, I have been reminded that God is good and God knows. We are the ones that, lacking in faith, take it upon ourselves to fix things and eventually making it worse. We overcomplicate things, chase after things that don't matter and try to salvage things that aren't worth saving. 

To put it into context, I recently have been spending time with an amazing guy. I've known him for a while now and I've always wondered what it would be like to be his and to be with him beyond friendship. And in my mind, I felt an undeniable electricity and connection. In a word, I was hooked. He was everything that I look for in a guy - he's honest, has integrity, is respectful, has a sense of humour and is driven and hardworking. In another word, he's perfect.

But this is so dangerous, because it gives me a capacity to just fall. Is he the one, or is there someone else? Is there even a someone? I don't know. It kills me a bit knowing that I have put myself under so much anxiety and stress about it, as do most of my experiences from my past. As mentioned in a homily this past weekend, we have so much anxiety over nothing most of the time, but because we worry so much about what is to come, we don't leave it to God. We don't trust Him. I don't trust Him.

So how can I call myself a believer of Christ if I can't let Him do the job that He knows best? I'm treating God like that one member of a group project that comes off as someone who doesn't know what they're doing, despite the fact that they might be entirely capable and intelligent.

I need to chill out.

Coming back to forward thinking and not trusting God, my biggest anxiety and outright fear is to wake up at 65, 70 years old and not having anyone beside me. Not because they're dead, but because I never had the opportunity to get married. Because I never found anyone. Though the thought of childbirth scares me, the thought of not having any children of my own, not having any grandchildren to give my parents, it scares me. It saddens me. And I know that I'm ony 20 years old and that I still have a lot of time to think and discern, but at the same time I feel like time is just flying. If I sit back now, I'm going to blink and suddenly be 25, 30 years old. What then?

Despite all of this anxiety and insecurity, I haven't given God the opportunity to show me what He wants to do with my life. At the end of it all, He may have destined me to the single life. And it's scary to admit out loud, because I have always seen myself getting married. But I will never know until I surrender and let Him show me. I will never know what happiness He has destined for me until I let go of my own selfish motives and let Him lead me.

These past 10 days I have had many panic attacks, constant feelings of incompetency and overall confusion. At this stage of my life, I should know better. All of this pain that I'm bringing upon myself is unnecessary, but at the same time, can you blame a girl for caring? I don't know. Maybe I care too much, but that's just the person I am. I am a big dreamer and a big lover and I want nothing more to be surrounded with good people and love them unconditionally.

Until then, I need to focus my energy back on the one who knows me best and love Him unconditionally, the same way that He has done for me all throughout this gigantic mess that is my life. I need to step back and not get in the way of the life that He has prepared for me. He knows my portion and my lot and what is best for me. He wants me to succeed and prosper. 

It's hard for me, as someone who loves to just take the lead on many things, to be secondary to the director in the movie of my life. That was a cool metaphor to describe my life, but it's true. God is the director and I'm that one intern that goes and gets Him coffee, or whatever God likes to drink.

This doesn't mean that I'll stop loving and stop feeling. If this guy that I'm seeing right now is the one, God will show me in His time. Until then, I will love this guy, as well as everyone in my life, all the same - with respect, with dignity, and all the love and happiness and support that they deserve and need from me.

stay awesome,

x R

A Lesson on Being Nice

I strongly dislike transit. Yes I know, I need to check my privilege on this one big time. Living in Metro Vancouver requires to use transit more often than not, so I am forced to transit to work or school or to places that I need to be most of the time. And most of the time, the people I encounter on transit are rude or creepy, and the busses are late beyond belief.

Added on to a awful day at work, this is a combination for disaster and a very irritable Rachel. 

This was the set up for me the other day. I had an awful day of work, charged with stress and rude people on the phone directing their anger on to me. It's not personal, but it's draining. As I left the office I felt so drained and I just wanted to get home. But of course, the busses were running late and I had no way of knowing how long it would be until the next bus actually showed up.

I approached the stop, bitter about the way that my day had unfolded. Evidently, I didn't hide it very well and I must have been giving off really threatening vibes. But suddenly, a soft voice cut through my anger and tension.

"Do you know how I get to Guildford?"

I looked up from my phone and turned to this woman who was sitting next to me at the bus stop. She had heavily accented English and she looked confused, lost, and even a bit afraid. I put aside my phone and answered her question.

Transit, you still suck most of the time. (source)

(For perspective, I was coming from the RCMP Headquarters, which is walking distance to King George Skytrain. There were a few options to get to Guildford from where we were, but they would entail going via Surrey Central, which you would need to bus to).

I proceeded to tell the woman that she needed to take a bus to Surrey Central first, and then change to a different bus in order to go to Guildford. The stop that she was waiting at was going to help her get to Surrey Central, I told her, and that I could help her find that second bus as I too was headed to Surrey Central.

She thanked me and then we both fell silent for a bit. After a few beats, she turned to me and said, "I'm new here. I just moved to Canada yesterday."

I was shocked that someone who had just gotten her was already so eagerly and diligently trying out our transit system. She then began to tell me about her life and where she came from, and what brought her here to Canada. Originally, the woman was from a village north of Kampala in Uganda, in Eastern Africa. In her village, she laughed, there was no such thing as a sohpisticated transit system, as they would walk everywhere. When I told her how long it would take to walk from Guildford from where we were, she continued to laugh and said that it would be no problem for her. And I believed her; her resilience was prominent, and despite being nervous and afraid, she dove fearlessly into this new place that she would eventually call home.

She came here to meet her husband, who had moved here 7 years prior and had finally saved up enough money to bring her and their children over. She showed me pictures of her children - an 8 year old boy, and two girls aged 5 and 3. The 8 year old had a bright smile with two front teeth mising, one of which was lost on the flight to Canada. The girls had matching hair styles and were wearing matching dresses. They chose Vancouver for the trees and the mountains, and she recounted how she would be walking with her daughters in the flat fields, telling them that one day they would be in a place where there were trees and mountains. That one day, the would experience sunshine in a completely different way, and that there might even be snow. I laughed at that, emphasizing on the word "might".

But beyond the mountains and the trees, they were here for better opportunities. Her girls weren't allowed to go to school, and because of the drought that had ravaged Uganda, there were times when her son would go to school hungry. Her children are bright, she told me. And I believe her. These are children who, like other children their age here, deserve all the opportunity in the world. Here she was, pursuing a country that she didn't know. And she was doing it with a smile and a kind heart.

As it came time for us to part ways, I directed her to where to catch the bus for Guildford. She thanked me for helping her and told me to have a good day. After that, she pulled me a little closer and told me, "I hope your day gets better. I was scared to bother you, but I'm glad that you were nice and were able to help me out." With that, she turned to run and catch the bus that I had shown her.

Basically me. (source)

Unfortunately for me, I have a very angry looking resting face. When I am angry, that deepens the expression even more. In the past I have been called out for it, and friends that I have now sometimes admit to me that they were afraid to talk to me in the past due to this very fact that I look constantly angry, or at least annoyed. This interaction with this woman has added an extra dimension to this whole problem that I seem to have with my face muscles - seriously. We all are entitled to our emotions without having to justify them. You have a right to feel angry, to feel sad, or to feel happy. If you feel angry, there is no use holding it all in and pretending like everything is fine and that you don't have any cares in the world. However, this has shown to me that I do have an issue with what is scientifically known as "resting bitch face (RBF)", and that nothing - not even a really terrible day - should get in the way of being a nice person and helping someone out.

It's tough sometimes to put aside your pride and emotions and put your best face forward, but sometimes it's worth it. Her well wishes for me to have a better day did indeed help. I hope that I did the same for her, despite my apparently internal hostility that was showing on my face.

Thank you to this lady for sharing with me her incredibly life journey and giving me a lesson on simply being nice.

This infatuation will pass

Wisdom from a wise woman. (via Pintrest)

It's been a while since I last wrote, but I'm here now and I'm sorry for taking so long. I stumbled across this quote while I was on one of my Tumblr sprees the other day; a guilty habit that has since resurfaced by the name of procrastination. However, it's not all bad, I guess, because I found this. Sylvia Plath always had a way with words and a way of articulating feelings and thoughts that are so abstract and yet simple and profound. And this is what I want to write about tonight, at 10:21 PM. I really should sleep; I tell myself everyday to go to bed early. But it never happens.

This quote is so beautiful, first because it is a standard that we all should use when it comes to falling in love with someone, and second because it served as a reminder for me to wait. To wait my turn, to wait in line, and to wait, because my day will come.

Recently a few of my friends have found wonderful people to compliment them. They have found what they deserve, and that is someone to love and someone to love them for who they are. My friends are well-deserving people, all who have gone through their own journies to find someone special. They have hit wrong turns and have brushed up against some interesting characters, but needless to say when the time came, the right person was standing in their midst waiting for them.

I feel a lot of joy for my friends, as they too have been patient and have been given something much greater than they could ever ask for. But at the same time, can you blame a girl for being just a tad jealous, dissatisfied, and impatient?

Almost three years ago, I came out of a broken relationship that, in hindsight, was fuelled by lust and pure smoke and mirrors. In my brokenness coming out of it, I had jumped into another relationship that many would call as a rebound. And at the time I refused to call it that - I thought that 3 months was enough for someone "mature" like me to heal. But 3 months was just scratching the surface, and suddenly I found myself in another relationship that was loveless, problematic, and all around pointless. It was on the last day of high school that I called everything off, and I have been single ever since.

All of those wiser than me tell me that "the right guy hasn't come along yet" and that "God will provide when HE thinks you're ready". And that's slightly disheartening, because it makes me think that God has no faith in me to make my own decisions. But then again, I did rebound three months after what was the worst time of my life, so I suppose He knows and I don't.

But, this quote brings to light an excellent point: most of the time, I'm not in love. I'm just infatuated. I go through the mental checklist of appearance, personality, how he acts around my family and friends... all of those things, to an extent, matter. But most guys that fit the persona that I make my future husband out to be make my heart race. They leave an imprint in my mind and my brain starts to go wild. If I have the opportunity to talk to them, everything is heightened physically. And these feelings don't just happen once, they happen a lot. How can I be in love with every guy I meet?

Spoiler: you might get hurt if you try.

SAME. (via Giphy.com)

It's true, in the past two years I have met many incredible guys; many who have made my heart race, have occupied my thoughts and dreams, have made me smile for no reason of all and have been the subject of giggly conversations with girlfriends. But until we have reached a common level of understanding and respect for each other, I cannot claim to be "in love" the way I have been in years past. And further, there needs to be that love before I give my whole being to this person.

Keep youself open and love fully, whether it be just friends or something more. Because the more you love, I swear, the happier you will be. This infatuation will pass, and one day you'll find youself loving more than just eyes and great hair.

Meanwhile, take care of yourself Prince Charming. I'll meet you when I'm supposed to.

x R

To the fresh-faced high school senior

"University is gonna suck you lifeless."

Of all the many interesting, horrifying, and amazing sentiments that I have heard about university and what my life will be like post-high school, this was probably the one that I was scared of the most. Scared of, admittedly, but also curious. I was incredibly curious about this one, wondering if it was indeed true, and it also made me wonder if university was going to turn me into a jaded, education hating zombie that would eventually be toting around  thousands of dollars in debt while working in a field completely unrelated to my studies.

They tell you so many things about university; but, isn't it so remisicent of what they told you in elementary school? "They won't hold your hand anymore," "They won't spoon feed you information," "You are responsible for your own homework," "You can't mess around anymore," ... the fear mongering is endless, and it all pops up again once high school students reach that coveted senior year and contract senioritis. They are itching to get out of the plastic chairs and high pitched warning bells to a place much cooler, much more independent, and much more adult-like.

To the fresh-faced high school senior, get ready for the shock of your life, because university is gonna suck you lifeless.

But, that's only true if you let it.

You see, I was a good kid growing up; or rather, I would like to think of myself as a good kid. I was one of those kids that never cut class (well, except that one time in senior year, to which I say I'M SO SORRY, MOM AND DAD), always got my homework done, got straight A's (at least once PE wasn't mandatory anymore), and had good relationships with teachers. I volunteered and had extra curriculars to pad my resume. I had some work experience and was making decent money (for my age) even before I got out of high school. I tossed that mortar board, shook a few hands, and walked out of that auditorium with a diploma and a few scholarships. I was so, so ready to get out of high school. push past the immature teeny-bopper drama that I had gotten myself into and start my new life as a fierce and independent university woman.

I was so freaking cocky.

Confidence is one thing that I wish for all of you to have: when you walk into a room, own it. But, beware that you don't mix up confidence with cockiness.

I knew, coming into university, that I was set - financially, grades wise, confidence wise, even potentially looks wise to find new friends. They tell you in high school in passing how much work there is in university, but what they failed to mentioned (or maybe, what I failed to listen to), was that high school work is pure peanuts compared to that of university. And probably somewhere down the line, spoiler alert, they're gonna tell you that university is SMALL PEANUTS compared to true adulting and work in the real world.

I was cocky. I thought, who needs to read this text book? Who actually spends weeks in advance doing their assignment that's due in November? Who actually, and I mean actually, plans out their essays? And really, 6 pages? No big deal. This is child's play.

And just like that, everything burst into flames and university did, indeed, suck me lifeless.

In my first semester, I got hit with my very first F in my entire life. I had barely passed a first year Statistics exam, but due to the ever life screwing-over-bell-curve, I failed. And this is a person that has never received anything lower than a B. I was devastated.

On top of that, my writing skills apparently sucked and they landed me shitty grade after shitty grade. 6 pages in my first year was apparently incredibly difficult (and, spoiler alert again, the papers get longer!), and I didn't really get first year literature. You know how we have a syntehsis portion on the English 12 provincial? I rocked that exam like it was nobody's business. But here I was at the end of first year, struggling to write a 10 page synthesis paper. I stayed up until 1 in the morning, two days before it was due, bawling my eyes out. I had no ideas, no plan, no thesis, and no paper.

To add further insult to injury, I was behind on readings for all my classes. Weekly readings averaged to around ~40-50 pages x 3 reading intensive courses resulted in me, literally drowning in words that I didn't understand. In grade 4 I was invited to take part in an accelerated writing and vocabulary class, and we worked with Wordly Wise 3000. I was a real smart ass, learning words like "dilapidated" and "pseudonym". Fast forward to me being behind on all my readings, and my vocab list wasn't as great as I once thought it was.

To the fresh-faced high school senior, please don't be like me circa first semester.

Despite my atrocious habits, I got by with some B's and even an A-, but I knew that if I had applied myself more, I would have been even better. And once I did apply myself in the following semester and year, I saw myself getting better and better.

Of course, you might shrug and say that the grades aren't the only thing you are after. And this is where I say that confidence matters. If you are looking to make great and lasting friendships, be confident and say hi to people in your classes. Coming from 20 person classes to 200 person classes can be extremely daunting. Take a bold step and say hi. Start a conversation. Join clubs and get involved in school. Volunteer and get yourself out there; who knows, your bold step might open up pathways to best friends, job opportunities, even a potential soul mate.

To the fresh-faced high school senior, enjoy the time you have in high shcool while it lasts.

Just so you know, your desk space doesn't really get any better from what you're dealing with right now; in fact, some might say that it's even worse. Enjoy the community that you have grown up in and the friends that have stuck with you for the past chapter in your life. No matter how good technology gets, unfortunately it's easier to be friends with people that are within your vicinity. I'm not saying to cut off all ties to high school and start anew with a clean slate in university. But, love the people that you're with. Smile more, say hi more. Mend broken friendships and rebuild bridges, Don't let petty drama like wearing the same dress as another girl at grad, love interests, and other things get in the way of one of the greatest parts of your life. Because let's face it: once you get out into the semi-real world that is university, your life will be turned upside down. Your study habits change, your schedule changes, your friends change; hell, you change.

Get ready for bigger and better things, my friends. As long as you apply yourself, keep your cockiness in check and really enjoy life, it'll all be alright. University will only suck you lifeless if you let it. But if you stay grounded, I've also heard it said that university is one of the best times in your life.

Make it happen.

x R

Where Do I Belong?

I've been doing a lot of thinking (possibly overthinking), and I want to attribute it to the fact that I am now 20. Or maybe, thinking is the wrong word and it's more reflecting.

Let's go with that - reflecting.

I've been thinking a lot about friendship, a concept that is so valuable to me and I would hope to everyone. In life, friendship is the one thing that keeps us all going. Without friends, I don't know where I would be in life.

When I was younger, I used to think that I was only allowed to have one best friend, or at most, only one group of close friends. I could be friendly and nice to other people, but they would never be as close to me as the group that I had chosen to be my best friends. I know, it's a strange way to think, but as I grew up, I found that I wasn't the only one that thought in that way.

(Or in English, my friend to the end)

So there I was, I had that tight knit friendship with girls that, to this day, I still admire for who they are. We had the type of relationships as young girls that enabled us to talk to each other about anything. We would fantasize the moments when we would finally grow up into women, our future weddings and who would be in the wedding party (and fight over who would be who's maid of honour), talk about how our children would have playdates and who would carpool when. It was these kinds of imaginative and innocent discussions that led me and my friends to believe that we would never separate - we would be best friends for life.

We were, for a while anyway. Even towards the end of elementary school, I noticed bonds unraveling and new bonds forming. I felt so awful that my friends and I were drifting apart and that I was befriending new people. And this was the refrain all throughout high school and now into the phase of life that I am in now.

High school was interesting, because despite the fact that I had friends to make life bearable, I never felt like I truly belonged in any group. There were always discussions I would miss, and inside jokes that I would never fully understand. I constantly asked myself where I belonged - was it this group, or that group? Who were my true friends? Did I even have any to account for?

I came to a couple conclusions as a result of my nights of thinking and thinking and thinking some more. It really dawned on me when I had a discussion about friendship with a friend that I have now that friendship evolves constantly. By virtue of the fact that humans change constantly, so too do our relationships. And it's not the fault of anyone; it just happens. Sometimes, we can't stop these changes from happening. But just because our friendships change or even end, it doesn't mean that completely cut them out from our lives.

My friend had been dealing with changes in her relationship with a friend that she had - she felt like she was growing up and that her friend wasn't. What's a person to do when the other friend isn't really on the same page?

Friendship knits together people of different experiences and backgrounds, and that's what makes each friendship so unique and beautiful. It helps you to learn more about the world and gain new perspective through the lens of the other person. If we befriended clones of ourselves, we might get super bored with them and ourselves! We need that difference, that friction, to keep life interesting.

What I realize now is that true friends are the ones that bring that new perspective into my life. There were people in my time in high school that really helped me see things in a new light, and through that I am very blessed to still have them in my life.

But I think the biggest struggle that I have been dealing with was just the fact that one of my closest friends has changed, and so have I. And I have begun to accept the fact that it's okay. Ultimately, friendship is supposed to build you up. You are supposed to feel comfortable with that person, and feel like you can open up to them about anything and not feel like you are being judged.

At this point in my life, I have finally found not only where I belonged but also the friends that help me to feel like I belong there. Friendship changes constantly, and that's okay. If you value a friendship enough, take the time to put the effort in to make it last in the long haul. But ultimately, as with any relationship, remember that it is a two way street. Put your whole heart in and make the effort and time, and hopefully the other person does the same.

Friendship is what helps life become more bearable and fun - find those friends that help you to be your best at all times, calls you out on your bullshit and ultimately makes you feel good.

PS, the title references a song by David Myles, who is one of my all time favourite artists. And, AND, he's Canadian! Check out the song "Where Do I Belong", and the rest of his new EP here!

x R

Waiting on the Right Time

Okay, update: life is lonely, sometimes.

(source)

Growing up, I've always hated drawing attention to myself. I was never really a fan of solo performances and would rather be really low key. The same usually happened with guys: as much as I would want certain ones to notice me, there was always shyness and I would just leave it.

Now through volunteering and just the fact that my schedule changes every four months, I'm forced to break out of my shell a little more and meet people. I thought that by being a little more confident I would meet someone nice and cool. But so far, there is no one.

Before, I've come to the conclusion that I don't need a man (yet). There is so much I want to accomplish, there is so much I want to get done - maybe this is God's way of saying that the time is not right. And okay, I hear you loud and clear. But sometimes it's hard to take that message to heart when you are the only single one left in your circle of old friends, you are bombarded left right and center with PDA on transit, your wonderful sister's track record is more successful than yours (go check out her blog here), and reading the daily newspaper gives you stories straight out of Nicholas Sparks novels.

I've met some amazing guys and have also find myself in less than ideal situations, but through it all I keep telling myself that it's just the beginning, that I'm still young, and that the time will come when He wills it. Like the most magnificent flower, it needs the right growing conditions - soil, sunlight, watering - as well as care. 

Lately these thoughts have been occupying my mind, and I've asked God when it would be my turn. I understand now what responsibility comes with being in a relationship, and I understand more than ever that love is by no means disposable. Throughout each of my experiences and the time in between, I've learned what I liked and what I needed, what I valued in a guy and the things that I found most important in a relationship. But now that I knew these things, I just needed the guy.

So through my open conversations with friends and God, I was confronted with this today.

This morning on my feed I came across this video that featured Steve Harvey talking to a young girl and her mom. I hope for Steve's sake that this helps him to sweep the Miss Universe fiasco under the carpet.

But the video featured him talking to a girl that openly sexted with guys. She said that it made her feel "like a Kardashian". It made her feel so good that there were guys telling her that she was pretty. However, once she started with one guy, pretty soon all the other guys were trying to take advantage of her. And when she tried to stand her ground, the guys would turn on her and try to coerce her into bending the rules, just a bit. While I watched this, my heart cried out for this girl. She is so, so loved - I can see it in her mom's eyes - but she is also so misled. She measured her self-worth with the amount of guys that wanted nude photos of her. She measured her beauty with the number of guys chasing after her.

Steve Harvey's response was priceless and really hit home - I wish I could post it here, but because it's on Facebook, check it out here!

A simple and profound reminder that there is so much in life worth living for, and that I shouldn't put it all on hold just for the sake of someone to cuddle with, to take cute pictures with, or to dress up fancy with.

Being a relationship is a responsibility, a responsibility entrusted to different people at different times. Until then, I will patiently wait.

You are valuable. Don't sell yourself short. The wait will be worth it.

x R

"I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem, that you not stir up or awaken love until it pleases."
- Song of Solomon 8:4

Better late than never: I'm in love with God, 20 years later

Now that I'm officially in finals mode, I made myself a list of things to do before tonight. But this post should have come much, much earlier - as in Easter weekend earlier. School just became a bit of a mess once Easter ended, so I'm so, so sorry about that.

Second, a quick shout out to my fellow friend and blogger Brenna and her most recent post about the temptation in our lives, as she has filled the gaps in my incoherence and has practically written what I was struggling to say. You can read more of her wonderful posts on her blog here.

Okay, here we go.

El and I, circa 2006. Note El rocking the knit vest.

As I draw closer to my 20th birthday, I've become more and more pensive about my life journey, particularly the past decade of my life. From the moment I turned 10 and entered the tumultuous world of the "double digits", it occurred to me in a plain fashion that this was where I was going to stay. As in, I more than likely will not see my 100th birthday, and I'm not really sure if I would really want to.

But I digress. Turning 10 was a defining year, not because of the double digits but just merely because that's when everything started changing. From my own body to the world around me, things started to move rapidly, and sometimes I felt like I was left behind. Admittedly, aside from a few critical junctures, I don't really remember anything before turning 10 years old. I would call that decade of birth to the day before turning 10 development.

"Tumultuous" really sums up my 10th birthday up until now, in one simple word.

-----

The word "tumultuous" is defined as "excited, confused, and disorderly." And my life was exactly that. As I grew up and things started changing around me, I felt lost in my own self and the environment that I had grown so comfortable in. In a sea of confusion, I was in a tiny boat that had no anchor for me to throw down so that I could regain my orientation.

The chapel at The Grotto, Portland

As I sat in the darkness at Easter Vigil, I thought about all of this. It was interesting, at least to me, how uncomfortable I felt with my faith even though I grew up in a Catholic school. It didn't make any sense to me, how being surrounded in the faith would push me away. But to this day, I have no resentment against my Catholic school upbringing, as it has brought me so much other joy. However, this was my challenge growing up: I didn't fully understand everything. And of course, there is no way to fully understand God's love - it is called a mystery, after all. But I guess the difference was that even though I knew I wouldn't be able to understand everything, I never made the effort to try.

My relationship with God was "tumultuous". There were periods of excitement - retreats, conferences, et cetera, et cetera - but outside of these one off experiences, there was confusion and disorder.

I went through high school religion and going in to it for the grade, and not for the grace. 

-----

I didn't believe that God loved me. Me, in a sea of 7 billion people. How could He possibly know me by name, all of my heart's desires, and have a plan for me? I was reminded of this day in and day out, but I never fully bought it. This lack of trust and lack of grace thrust me into a lot of trying times, time when I questioned if God's GPS for me was recalculating and just plain stuck. And with each instance - bullying, death in the family, break up with a boyfriend, drama with friends, disordered eating or self-harm - I was pushed away even more. Where was God and His love when my grandfather got dementia, and couldn't even remember any of us anymore? Where was God and His love when one of my exes forced me to have sex, and hurt me when I said no? Where was God and His love throughout any of this?

I left high school as a person who was broken, and even though I had a sense of direction with what I wanted to do, I had shattered God's compass for me.

In an unlikely turn events, as I met new people in university, a secular environment, I felt so compelled to tell people that I was Catholic. It was something so foreign to me, as I never had to explain that to anyone growing up. And through this sudden burst of honesty, I made friends and lost some. As this honesty grew, it felt like there was something inside me that was itching to get out. But something was still missing deep inside of me.

-----

I was invited to join Catholic Christian Outreach and I began studying with them. With each week I surrounded myself with people who were so on fire for their faith was exciting, but all the same confusing for me, as I had no idea how I too could achieve the same sense of love and faith.

When one of the missionaries asked if they could pray over me, I was a little apprehensive because I had no idea what it would entail. But as the prayers were said, I felt an unbelievable sense of calm wash over me. Suddenly, it felt as if all the doubts I had about God's love was washed away, and my eyes were opened - if only a little bit.

It was then that I began to get more active and began to help out with youth ministry at Precious Blood. But something was still missing.

I know that I am a sinner, and I know that the past 20 years have been marked by constant mistakes and failings. And despite the beautiful sacrament of reconciliation, I didn't feel like I was getting any closer to God. In fact, I was always scared of it.

The Upper Gardens at The Grotto

So this year, when time for Lenten confession came around, I was scared, again, because I didn't see how this was going to be any different from before. But God must have sensed this, because as I knelt down, another wave of honesty came over me and I was telling the priest everything. I finished by saying that I didn't believe that God has a plan just for me.

The priest contemplated everything that I said, and then he pointed behind me at the Crucifix that hung on the wall of the church. "That is how we know God has a plan for us."

When I looked back at him with confusion, he continued: “No cross is greater than the sins of mankind. And you don’t need to worry about a cross being too heavy, because Jesus already carried that cross for you. 

"Jesus could have stayed in heaven and dictated everything from above. But instead, He went about it the most difficult way possible so that we might have hope."

Wow.

-----

So back to Easter Vigil. My family spent Easter weekend in Portland, at The Grotto of Our Lady. I was contemplating the words that the priest had left me with during that confession, and I thought about the whole purpose of Lent, the Triduum, and the celebration of Easter. 40 day of waiting. 40 days of sacrifice and prayer. Jesus spent 40 days in the desert, choosing not to eat or drink and fending off the devil. He died on the cross for everyone, past, present, and future. To show His love for us, He went about the most difficult way possible - the ultimate sacrifice, He laid down his life for our own.

Such a simple, yet complex truth. And the greatest thing is that He doesn't want us to feel guilty for it, or to put ourselves through the same excruciating pain. What He does want for us is to to our best, return back to Him when we fall astray and remember always that His ways are not our ways.

I don't have all the answers, and I will never fully understand why God does the things that He does. I have faith that He has something bigger than I can even comprehend, and I pray for the grace to accept His plans humbly. 

With this new found confidence in my own faith journey, I look forward to what's ahead beyond my 20th birthday.

Be bold & know that He is always for us,

x R

My Identity Crisis

(??? - source)

This has been a recurring theme in my life lately. For reasons that are nothing short of a reflection of me, it has been a difficult and yet relieving transition.

We all experience hurt. Anyone that tells you that pain is for the weak clearly has no passion. But we've all heard sentiments that go along the lines of "without the rain, we can't appreciate the sunshine" or "you don't know what it feels like to succeed if you've never failed". Similarly, you won't know what happiness is without having suffered from some form of pain in your past. It builds character, and, to quote my Psych prof, each transaction with the universe leads you in some direction or another and it impacts you in a very profound way, whether or not you realize it.

Without going too deep into the philosophical stuff, I wanted to touch on this issue of "identity". 

My later elementary and high school years were marked with aspects of inner battles with myself due to the climate that I was in. High school, as I quickly learned, was kind of like TV but less flashy and could stand to be more vicious than the plastic cheerleaders that paraded around fictional high school grounds. And while I had a solid group of friends to lean on, I had always struggled with trust and transparency. I look back now in life and regret the many times that I trusted people that I shouldn't have, and all the times I refrained from trusting those that I truly trusted. 

I've always had trust issues. My trust issues ultimately made me close in on myself at multiple points of my adolescent life, and it led me down some scary paths and roads that sometimes I wish I didn't take. Most notably, depression, disordered eating, and attempts at suicide.

But it wasn't until recently that I noticed myself having incredibly meaningful discussions about life, choices, and identity. At the beginning of this semester I started taking a faith study with 9 other girls on what it truly means to be a Catholic. We are called to evangelize and to bring all people closer to God. It reminded me that despite the bumpy road that I may have had growing up, God has destined something truly great for each one of His children - all 7 billion of them and counting.

Talking in great depth with friends about our life stories to date gave me a new found appreciation for choice and identity. As one friend described to me, "There are choices I made, some fantastic and some poor, but I wouldn't trade a single one of them. All of them make up me, and I wouldn't be the me I am right now if I had chosen otherwise." Some people had lamented poor choices in their past, wishing that they could turn back time and do it all over again. Others stood back in awe of their good and not so good choices, realizing that each tiny detail had amounted to who they currently are. Regardless of what end of the spectrum you identify with, I think we can all agree that our lives are made up of choices that we have made, meaning that even something as small as choosing to smile in the morning can impact your life path in some way or another.

Our identity is so important - it is who we portray ourselves to be in the world, and I cannot emphasize enough the importance of not hiding who you are. I remember high school being a tricky time for this: I hid so much of my identity to different people, playing different characters in different social circles. But none of those pictures fully showed who I was: it was different parts of the puzzle complete with some noticeable gaps. And I'm not sure when in my life I decided to forgo what people thought in a "take it or leave it" attitude, but being myself - all of myself - never felt so liberating.

I don't apologize for being a woman. I don't apologize for being Chinese. I don't apologize for being Catholic. I don't apologize for identifying as someone with depression or someone who has had suicidal thoughts. I no longer deny my past, my beliefs, and my culture. And I think that no one should have to conceal who they truly are.

I'm not telling all of us to go out and be self-righteous and pompous people. Embrace yourself and your identity; don't apologize for it. Accept the choices that you made in the past and forgive yourself for the difficult ones you had to make. Love yourself and treat yourself with respect.

Your identity is important, and it is special. Don't let your fear of conformity get in the way of your true identity.

x R

We're Not Breaking Up, Just Changing it Up

Put quite simply, life happens. Things change, people grow up, and life moves on whether you are ready for it or not. And the great thing is, even though I don't have any clue what my life is going to be like or what tomorrow brings, I have to keep reminding myself that that is okay.

It's crucial to set goals, have some blueprint of a plan and ambition so that you aren't wasting time and going forth into life bravely but blindly. Planning ahead will pay off, I promise - but the one thing I need to change is rigidity.

Change sucks for me. Failure is even worse than that. And though I have failed time and time again, I constantly get caught off guard, despite the fact that I've come to this same conclusion many times before.

In my most recent post (that is not so recent anymore, I'm sorry!!!) I discussed in brief my current relationship with music and piano in particular. I had plenty of great ambitions and a solid timeline that I wanted to meet. But most of all, like many narcissistic beings, I wanted something to show my worth. I needed something that would validate all of my hard work - something physical, something tangible, something that screamed "You did it and you rock".

In piano and some other instruments, that gold standard came with an Associate of the Royal Conservatory of Music  diploma. Since I began taking exams at the age of 9, I was dead set on one day walking across the stage in the purple regalia to get that diploma. At that point I was also set on spending the rest of my life doing music. Music was something I loved, and I wanted nothing more than to teach for the rest of my life.

Life changed, things happened, and I began to see that something was not quite right. I loved music and still do, don't get me wrong. But other things began to crop up that weren't really playing to my favour. After an incredibly awful experience at a festival, I sat back from it weeks later and thought about it. I thought about it a lot. 

We can all assume that after that experience, it didn't make piano attractive for me at all. And I know, we all fall down sometimes and we have accept the failures before we can move onto the triumphs. But in other aspects of life, I got the failure part and I worked hard to make sure that those failures didn't repeat themselves. With piano, I stopped. I felt like I was hitting a brick wall and I didn't know what I wanted anymore.

It wasn't until very recently that I radically changed the course of my path, with a story too technical and long to go in depth here. It hurt so much to step back and humbly accept the fact that what I had been telling people - the goal that I had advertised for years - had to be revised. I felt like I let so many people down, including myself, and that I couldn't go out into the world with the confidence that I once had. Because if this is what happens with something that was such an integral part of my life, what's going to happen when I don't find myself behind the news desk?

This aspect of humility was something that my parents told me time and time again when I was fighting to figure out what I wanted to do with my relationship with piano. And of course, parents are ALWAYS right. But today the truth that my parents had told me all along was brought to me in a different way, and I finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.

There was a guy that I knew that made his mind up about a lot of things, and his measure of success was dependent on achieving certain "checkpoints". For him, his gold standard was medical school. He worked tirelessly all throughout high school to get high grades, and for a while, that was all he focused on. He was a bit cocky about things too, telling his ambition to everyone and looking down on other people and what he presumed to be "lesser achievements".

Today, however, I saw a different side of him, admittedly the first time that I ever felt sympathy towards him. He confided in me the trouble he was having: his classes were mentally and physically draining, he wasn't pulling the marks he wanted, he was having trouble sleeping and he even cried to his parents about it. He then said with some uncharacteristic resignation that he might just scrap med school altogether. And despite the bias that I had held about this guy for the longest time, for once in my life, I felt sad for him. I felt sympathetic, and on some weird level, I related to him. His struggle was my struggle, and suddenly the universe shifted.

Like at mentioned at the outset, goals are important to guide your focus and give you motivation. But just the way that trips sometimes go awry and performances bring up surprises, you need to learn to go with it and improvise: don't throw your whole plan out the window and start again from square one, but also remember to never be afraid to fail and make a change.

This is a lifelong concept that I know that I will struggle to contend with when something else crops up in the future. Our plans are not ours alone - they're His.

x R

My Brain is Overwhelmed

I should be studying for my midterms but my thoughts and words have been jumbled up in my mind for far too long. I have finally found a point of clarity so that I can jot down all of my thoughts to sum up the feelings/confusions/situations as of late. Apologies for not writing in so long and apologies also for the difference in content this time around - but  I guess hey, this did start off as a personal blog, right? And I'm learning, so I guess there is a place for that here.

1. Moving forward with my dreams.
It's no secret that writing takes up a significant portion of my life, especially during grade 12 onwards and even more so now. Writing for the student news paper and contributing to two blogs has kept me on my toes and busy (hence neglect here), and it has really inspired me to just keep thinking, observing, and writing. Even if the only person that reads my piece is the editor that edits my work, I am so grateful for the opportunity to move ahead with something that I love. I feel like I finally found my niche at school. On top of this, an added bonus is being able to work alongside some incredible people that share the same interests and love for writing as I do. Every time I see my name in print it brings me so much joy, but I remember always that there are so many people behind me that have helped me get to this point.

2. Departure from other things.
I haven't been as open about this because I am still trying to sort my feelings out. After playing piano for nearly 13 years with the intention of starting my diploma process this June, I recently found out that I am ineligible to take the path that I had prepared nearly a year and a half for. I was devastated. I can put blame on no one but myself for not looking into this sooner. But having this sudden rupture in my plan has begun to put things into perspective for me; #1, Steinbeck's Of Mice and Men has never had more weight on my life than right now, #2, I am forced now to re-evaluate my relationship with music. Before I was just emotional about it; it was really the longest relationship I had ever had with anything. But after crying about it, being frustrated and mad about it and having broken a few things, I feel like it's time to say good bye - to part of it. I still love teaching and I still love serving at Mass with music. Music once was my life and my everything, but now I'm beginning to see that it's not. And that's unfortunate, because, forget about the countless hours of preparation and practice. What really chokes me is how much my parents have invested into me. I will never be able to pay back the thousands of dollars, and I can't even come back with a parchment that shows that I made use of it. This hurts me so much. But I don't want to play anymore if it's just going to be stress. And this is what it has become for me. I really need to dig deep and refocus my view on piano, because this is toxic and I don't like it.

3. You left/Toxicity pt. 1.
Speaking of toxicity, remember always that you don't deserve to be in relationships (romantic of otherwise) that make you feel terrible. Long story short, I had a misunderstanding with you and we finally sorted it out. Those kinds of things always gave me anxiety, but I'm glad we had this talk. What is bothering me is that now you just left me behind. You're ignoring me, giving me zero eye contact, not returning my messages, etc, etc. And this was after you said - to my face - that I could rely on you if ever I needed someone. I see now that karma is quite powerful, because it's true, clinginess makes me distant. I have yet to learn how to maturely deal with people who are clingy. It's a strong character flaw, I know. I get that these things that you are doing to me now, whether or not you realize it, was probably exactly what I did to you. And that's fine, that's cool. But at least I responded when you called, even when I didn't feel like it. I helped you when you asked, even though you never thanked me. The least you could do is actually look up when I say hi. So here I am, contemplating whether or not I should just cut you off completely. Because I really don't deserve to stress out over something so irrelevant in my life.

4. I found out/Toxicity pt. 2.
I used to have incredibly strong feelings about you, to the point where I cried about you at night. And when you finally showed interest in me, I thought that I was the luckiest girl in the world. But over time, every time I saw you, I began to see parts of you unfold that I didn't understand. You didn't tell your friends about me, you were inconsistent with your affection, and I think that all you really wanted from me was someone to satisfy what you couldn't get from other girls. And that's my fault for going along with it. But here's the thing, I'm done with that because I know that I deserve better. What I did was wrong. Though I said yes then, I'm saying no now. And I came to this realization when you broke my belongings. So simple. So nit-picky of me. But if you can't treat my belongings with respect, then how do I know that you'll treat me with respect?

5. All my eggs in one basket.
I really wanted this project to work out. But it's so difficult to see all our hard work producing no results. Constant reminder to stay humble and keep trying. All in God's time.

6. "So Christmas, right?"
Have I ever mentioned how difficult it is to live with a sister - a younger sister - who has such a beautiful and strong relationship with a boy that brings out the best version of herself? I reserve the right to retract that comment until I meet him. But I don't know, I guess it's kind of a rite of passage, and being the oldest I thought that by now I would have had some kind of success and some form of long-standing, loving relationship. Mine come nowhere close to what my sister has, and there are days where I am envious and other days where I just ask God where my soulmate is. I keep asking my sister when I can meet him so that I can really see what he's like, and thank him in person for taking care of my sister and bringing a different kind of happiness into her life that is exclusive to them and different from what we as a family can give her. In the meantime, I'm still waiting.

7. Pain.
I am so thankful that I have recently begun seeing a chiropractor. The pain in my upper back has been unbearable lately, to the point where I can't sleep. But aside from pain, sleep hasn't been coming to me lately.

8. Constant reminder.
Seeing an ex-boyfriend that hurt me around campus sucks. But these deep feelings of hate that I harbour towards him is a constant reminder that I am not fully over the whole thing, thus I haven't fully forgiven him. How do you begin to forgive someone who has done unforgivable things to you? God, give me the grace to find that forgiveness. I know that the sooner I forgive him, the sooner I don't have to feel irrationally angry.

9. Lent.
Looking for that extra purpose to make Lent more meaningful this year.

10. Him.
My general like for guys always starts the same way - I can't stop thinking about him. But since I don't know where this is going to go and I don't even know if he likes me back, I'm trying my best to let things happen by themselves and focus on what is in front of me. I know that all the times I have interfered before, it has left me with disappointment. But what doesn't help is how great he is.

Thanks for bearing with me, and I promise for actual content soon.

x R