As I was growing up, the one thing that stayed consistent in my journey with anxiety is that fellow Christians constantly reminded me fear wasn’t from God.
I’m a daughter, sister, wife, aunt, dogmom, niece, cousin, and friend. I’m a lot of things to a lot of people. I’m also an introvert. Dun dun dunnn! That’s not a bad thing; honestly, I cherish that description of myself and was thrilled when I figured it out. I no longer wonder why I crave long runs alone and reading for hours on end or the magic of a road trip, blowing the speakers of my car as I sing along to my favorite songs. That’s how I recharge my battery. The more I recharge, the more I can give out to others in return.
I remember it like it was yesterday, I was told to 'marry my ministry.' Now, a year later, I finally understand its meaning - all due to studying the Biblical book of Ruth, chock full of principles every 'single' gal needs to hear while waiting for the man God has for them.
I want to live a simpler life.
One where I’m not constantly diverting my eyes to the screen of a device that fits in the palm of my hand. One where I’m not pressuring myself to find words of greatness before I can pen them onto a page. One where I’m not left searching for connectivity in a blur of online perfectionism. One where I can be content in the everyday moments, instead of in searching for greater and bigger and better.
I’m a planner.
My favorite time of the year is at Christmas when I specifically ask for only one gift: a customized, Erin Condren Life Planner. Call me a nerd or an overachieving student, but when I have that planner with me, I am invincible.
All my life, I feel like I struggled with hyping things up in my head and always looking forward instead of being present. I spent my days anticipating the next exciting thing that was about to happen. Whether it was learning how to drive, moving into my first apartment, or going to college, most of my average days were spent awaiting life’s milestones.
I still remember the exact feeling I had when I looked down to read “Pregnant” on the pregnancy test I had just taken.
Self-care. Noun. A balancing act in which one strives for total wellness in their mind, body, and soul.
Recently, I started going to therapy, and until today, I haven’t shared that with anyone except my mom, husband, and a few select friends. But, for the purposes of this article, I think it’s essential you know.
I’m not sure when or how it happened, but I recently found myself in a quiet season. Following a busy and bustling summer of flip flops and sunscreen, the temperature began to drop, school started, and quickly I fell into my routine. I was surprised with how easily and comfortably my days regulated. And the days grew… quiet.
Suddenly the predictability worried me.
A few days ago I got bored so, as any twenty-something, single woman does, I opened one of the dating apps on my phone. As I looked over some of my matches I decided to send a message to Aaron*, a guy I had exchanged a few messages with previously, but actually hadn’t talked to in a few months. I sent him a light-hearted, witty message about the length of time it had been since we had communicated. He responded shortly after:
“That’s not funny but the fact that you’re fat is.”