around these parts.

you have to do the dishes. you can be happy about it or you can be a grump about it. but you still have to do them. you can keep mental tally marks of who does it more often, but that doesn't erase that they have to be washed.

you have to go to work. you can do it happily or you can leave with a frown. but you still have to go.

yes there are days when i choose to be selfish. i let the laundry pile higher for one extra day or i let dominos make dinner. but then there are days like today:

the power went out and school was cancelled, so we cuddled in bed until noon. and as my husband's cold nose brushed my cheek i thought about how lucky i am.

dishes and laundry and work will always be around. but few are the days of simplicity.

no worries or obligations. just the person you love sitting next to you as you sleepily whisper your dreams to one another and plan the future.

life's obligations are important. but your heart, it's also important.

sometimes you need a day, or a morning, away from distractions to re-align.

life shouldn't be about counting calories or to-do lists or calculating who is making a bigger effort. because even when technology and vehicles and warm showers are stripped away, there will still be people around you. you can be a good person to be around, or you can be exhausting. you can be pleasant or you can be a ticking bomb.

i made a great choice when i chose to marry nathan. but it's my job to make sure he feels that he made a good choice -- every day.

accountability keeps a marriage happy. blame shoves a marriage aside.

you can be the problem or you can prevent it.

and that is what i've learned.

...

when dating, when choosing friends.

you need a gardener not a florist.

a florist only picks perfection.
they cut you down.
teach you that you aren't adequate alone.
a florist will stop your growth, in fact they'll kill you slowly.

sure, it seems rewarding temporarily.
you might bring a smile to someone's face for a week or so.
when you're chosen, you feel special. nothing else in the world matters.
but a florist treats all the other flowers the same.
in fact, a florist ignores your individuality more than it celebrates it.

but, a gardener...

a gardener gives you their time.
they keep you nourished and strong.
teach you that you're worth fighting for.
a gardener will encourage life and tear down weeds that suffocate.

a gardener will keep you rooted and firm,
they'll allow room for growth.
even understand that change is normal; change is good.
a gardener might trim and prune you, but only to keep you from hurting yourself.

sure, a gardener can't always prevent the harsh, cruelty of winter
but they'll absolutely revive you in the spring.
a gardener delights in your happiness and health;
your beauty and uniqueness makes them smile.
their knees will be sore from praying and working on your behalf.

and gardeners don't ask for a thing.
they just want you to shine.

so, find a gardener not a florist.

and, if you can, be a gardener too.

gratitude.

Brené Brown is my soul sister.

She is well-known for a TED talk on vulnerability.

She was also on Super Soul Sunday with Oprah, where she reiterated a comment from one of her books that gratitude is the key to joy.

---

I have been single for the majority of my life. The longest relationship I had been in, lasted a month. And I enjoyed being single.

I say this to emphasize the fact that I'm not a relationship expert; I don't have experience or any sort of knowledge on what works for everyone.

But, I wanted to share something that has been on my mind a lot recently:

My relationship has been hard. Hard because I consistently fought it. I am extremely lucky to have a man who is patient and understanding, who is obsevant and  approachable, who communicates when I can't find the words.

I am regularly insecure and often feel inadequate. For me, it seems easier to be alone. It seems easier to deal with my problems and fears in private. It seems easier because it's what I'm used to. When I get stressed or worried, I isolate myself.

Being single was easier because I could be wherever, whenever. I could hibernate and wallow and stuff my face and no one knew or cared.

Now I have someone who notices and sees and wants to fix everything. Man, boys like to fix things. And letting someone help has been terrifying. Opening and releasing my innermost thoughts nearly chokes me.

Vulnerability is the key to love, because (at least for me) love comes from appreciation. And how can there be appreciation without service? How can there be service without needs? There can't.

And in order to see the need we have to observe. In order for others to observe our needs we must communicate them.

Being transparent is frightening. But feeling understood and accepted after opening? That is the most beautiful thing I've ever felt.

That, to me, is love. It's not a perfect first kiss or a fun date. It's not arm candy or consistent plans on a Friday night. Love isn't a full bank account or a ten-year plan.

Love, for me, is sacrifice. It's in the silence after all words are spoken. Love is in the metaphorical hug that can only be felt after you jump off a cliff into their arms.

And love isn't kept once you find it.

Love is work. I always thought it was a feeling, but it's an experience. A constant choice. A choice that I believe reaps everlasting joy.

Joy that is kept when we are continually grateful for what we have and simultaneously offering good things for our partners to be grateful for.

It is hard and uncertain and far-from controllable. But it is worth that jump. It's worth the tears and the sacrifice and the risk.

Most people mistake passion for love, but I think it is more of a silent, solid trust.

I'm grateful for the honest, loyal man I have found. And I thank God every day that I didn't settle for the freedom of spinsterhood or the fleeting fun of previous relationships.

My joy is full. I would've waited thirty more years to experience this.

Don't settle for a ring. Don't settle for butterflies. Don't settle for sarcasm or empty promises.

Hold out for the lung collapse of terror when you find someone you cannot live without. Fight for the real stuff. Don't stand in your own way.

The joy will be worth the wait.

growth.

i gave up on love. i gave up on marriage.

it wasn't because i was old or tired of waiting, it was because i had been hurt. i had been lied to. i had been disappointed and tossed aside like garbage.

and they're not supposed to hurt you -- words. but they do.

words that go unsaid, they hurt.
words that are said insincerely, they hurt.
promises that are issued without thought and then broken, they hurt.

and through all that hurt it seemed impossible.

it seemed impossible that a boy existed who just wanted me to be happy. (not just make me laugh or entertain me, but to make and keep me happy every second of every day.)

it seemed too much to ask for a boy to care about my day.

it seemed there would never be a boy who listened.

i felt incredible. i felt deserving. i felt funny and attractive and relatively intelligent.
but i didn't believe that there could ever be a boy who saw all of that and my flaws and wanted to keep it.

no matter what the future held, i was certain that i was stuck with me.
i can never escape this body. i can change my name and looks and location, but this body and soul, they are mine.

and so i made myself into a version i was am proud of. i worked hard physically, spiritually, mentally, emotionally.

i worked on me. and that's when everything changed. i wasn't looking for someone to complete me or say the right thing around every corner. i wasn't looking for an elusive puzzle piece. i was more than content, i had created happiness.

i made myself into someone better, and then i got someone who was better.

“The fact that you’re struggling doesn’t make you a burden. It doesn’t make you unloveable or undesirable or undeserving of care. It doesn’t make you too much or too sensitive or too needy. It makes you human. Everyone struggles. Everyone has a difficult time coping, and at times, we all fall apart. During these times, we aren’t always easy to be around — and that’s okay. No one is easy to be around one hundred percent of the time. Yes, you may sometimes be unpleasant or difficult. And yes, you may sometimes do or say things that make the people around you feel helpless or sad. But those things aren’t all of who you are and they certainly don’t discount your worth as a human being. The truth is that you can be struggling and still be loved. You can be difficult and still be cared for. You can be less than perfect, and still be deserving of compassion and kindness.”

—	Daniell Koepke

the tweet of life stories.

subtitle: because you have to keep up with brissa and shaylynn.

my parents have a child for every form of birth control they ever tried. i was the last and the seventh, but i was intentional. this means that i have an unrealistic view on my importance as a human being.

as a child I made dance videos with my friend kelli. i messed up a lot and she yelled at me. this was the end of my dancing career. but i do know the hoedown throwdown and will show that off any chance I get.

up until high school, my mother forced me to endure permed hair but never let me in on the secret that brushes and perms don’t mix. picture a frizzy, triangular mess with loads of acne and you have every school picture of me from 1996 to 2004.

during high school I met friends that brought me down to earth in the best way – through laughter and sarcasm. i dated the prom king for like a week; even i’m not sure how that happened. he was my first kiss. i was half-asleep and didn’t realize he had kissed me until it was over. pure magic.

in college i perfected my cookie baking skills. i also skipped class a lot and so here i am, 23 and barely about to get my associate’s degree. power through, kids!

i recently started dating a boy who terrifies me in a good way. he's disgustingly nice. i was fully awake for our first kiss.

here’s to flat irons and conditioner.

the hardest thing to accept, the easiest to give away.

from the beginning, notes were my thing. sometimes i complimented his freckles. sometimes they were stuck to his back. sometimes they were hidden and sometimes they were hand delivered.

the first note he gave me was folded inside a birthday card. it was a letter, really.

he listed everything he liked about me. at the end of the list he wrote, "i guess i just took the long way to tell you that i love you."

those three words were supposed to be good news, but they stabbed me. because i couldn't say them back.

my whole life, love seemed like this euphoric, magical feeling where the heavens opened and you flew. maybe it is like that for some people.

when i read them i cried. in the following days, each time he'd say it it stung more. there was swearing and praying and even more tears.

because how could he love me.

for ten days he said those words. my silence didn't stop him. he loved me. he knew it. he didn't need to hide it or wait for the "right time."

he told me he wanted to marry me. that he would spend his life ensuring my happiness. that he couldn't promise a perfect future, but that he wanted me to be his, forever.

he said all these things even though i was silent.

part of me was scared to promise the same. part of me was scared i'd have to say it to someone else someday.

mostly i was unsure that what i was feeling was indeed love. but in those ten days i've learned that:

love is 90% being the right person,

10% finding the right person.

i learned that love is a choice. 

love isn't blind; i know his faults, i see his weaknesses. but i choose to look past them. i choose to help strengthen them.

love isn't on a time-table; it doesn't always come at first sight or hit you like a bus.

love is happiness. love is security. love is patience. love is practical and a bit reckless. love is full of possiblities. love is given and recieved.

it took me a while to accept love.

but once i accepted the word from that boy, it was the easiest word to give away.

like you.

if our babies are like you they'll be perfect.

wrinkled foreheads taking the whole world in.
fingers wrapped around mine, love growing with each second.
soft smiles that make my knee caps weak with joy.
poking and prodding me for attention.

if our home is like you i'll stay there forever.

established on solid ground, reaching toward heaven.
safe and offering protection from all of life's unknowns.
a few creaky floorboards that make being human beautiful.
picturesque but humble, quiet but inviting.

sometimes.

sometimes you meet someone, an extraordinary someone, who you feel unworthy of. yet, you ignore the doubt and dream anyway.

like that song by the smith's, you wish that this time you'll get exactly what you want.

and after some time between the skepticism and effort.

your 11:11 pleas. your fortune cookies. your prayers. your wishes on stars. they pay off.

and that someone you most wanted. that third time charm.

he wants you too.

"The key to a successful relationship isn't just in the words, it's in the choice of punctuation. When you're in love with someone, a well-placed question mark can be the difference between bliss and disaster, and a deeply respected period or a cleverly inserted ellipsis can prevent all kinds of exclamations."
- David Levithan

my thoughts on growing up in the mormon church.

i am the youngest of seven children, born to a mother and father that faithfully abided by the doctrines of the church of Jesus Christ of latter-day saints. (and still do.)

growing up i attended three-hours of church service every sunday.
from the age of twelve, i attended an additional hour on tuesday evenings.
throughout high school, i reserved one credit-hour each semester to leave campus and take scripture courses.

my opinions on the church as a teenager were that there were far too many stories about pioneers.
there were a lot of references to obscurely-named characters from the book of mormon.
it seemed that i was to have every story memorized and able recite at any moment.
i knew to gasp upon mention of getting tattoos and showing too much skin.

i showed up happily to all these meetings. i understood what was being taught and i believed it.

more than anything, i observed the people. i watched what they did, i remembered what they said.
if, after observation, i felt that an individual seemed "good" i would listen to what they believed, then i would take their word for it.

after twenty-one years of doing everything i was told to do, one day i stopped and looked around and decided it wasn't for me.

so i quit going. i ignored phone calls. and suddenly i had all this free time.

then i experienced a down-ward spiral --that may or may not be related to the above-mentioned inactivity.
[the spiral did not consist of pre-marital sex or drinking or drugs or butterfly tramp-stamps.]

quite frankly i went from a euphoric, free feeling to unshakable self-doubt and despair.
but this is another story.

i experienced what i now refer to as a quarter-life crisis.

"We cannot teach Him anything! But we can listen to Him. We can love Him, we can honor Him, we can worship Him! We can keep His commandments, and we can feast upon His scriptures! Yes, we who are so forgetful and even rebellious are never forgotten by Him!" 
-- Neal A. Maxwell

piles and piles of love.

snow is my favorite thing.

and today, the heavens opened and slowly dumped inches of beauty from the sky.

it isn't even the kind that melts in twelve hours.

it is beautiful, ideal-for-snowmen perfection.

it fell slowly, but steadily.

visibility wasn't far, but the roads were clear enough.

and all of these just seemed like a metaphor to me.

i keep thinking that this winter is an outline for romance.

i got the feeling today that i won't be single for much longer.

someone must have poisoned my water to make me fathom such a grandiose idea, but it was there. and it has stuck.

this "omen" of sorts, telling me that good things are coming. that they'll be gradual, but that it will be layed on thick. and it will stay.

there is no guarantee of forever, and i certainly wont know what is coming next. but i'll see just far enough ahead to feel safe and happy and excited.

the snow of 2013, has me full of butterflies.

dream boy.

i have been in two relationships. each lasted exactly two months from first date to break-up.
both of these boys were outgoing and funny.
both liked to cook.
both had hoards of friends.
both of them had dreams and ambitions within reach. -- both of them worked hard to make them come true.
both treated me with respect.
both spoke of marriage and futures, and both made plans.
each is a good person and each deserve beauty and love and happiness.

dream boy is different.

dream boy is quiet, he is a wallflower.
dream boy teases me, but never mocks.
dream boy does not seek attention.
dream boy listens and observes.
dream boy accepts compliments graciously, but never seeks them out.
dream boy opens doors for everyone, all the time, no matter what.
dream boy makes me feel safe.
dream boy always says thank you.
dream boy never returns animosity.
dream boy offers assistance and helps even when i deem it unnecessary.
dream boy inspires me and encourages me.

dream boy is different.

he isn't mine. he may never be.
but he has done more good for my heart than anyone else in the world.

i'd like him to be the third. the one who breaks all the patterns. the snow that doesn't melt so quickly.