March 28th, 2017
I have had many crushes over the years. My first crush was pretty bad. Not that I had it bad (I did, but that's not the point), I mean my nine year old self had horrible taste in guys. He had the long bangs that I found so attractive for some reason beyond me. He was older than me by a couple of year, but no one's attracted to a nine year old. He spoke low and deep, and now that I think about it, he probably sounded dumb in the way he was trying to seem masculine in front of the other girls.
I was crazy about him and I have no idea why. I wrote his name on my skin all the time with a sharpie, I would try to wear cute clothes whenever I went to church in hopes he would be there (he never was), and I said the stupidest things in front of him the few days that I knew him.
Let me tell you an embarrassing story. So we were in the other building of the church, sitting at a table together; the only reason we were at the same table was because I hung around my sister who hung around our cousin who my crush also hung around. Yeah . . . Anyway, they were just talking and I was admiring his face that I now know was not really all that pretty. My sister and cousin were talking about how this one other girl had a crush on him and he had noticed it. Me, being the moron that I was said exactly this:
"A lot of girls have a crush on you. And one of them likes your hair." Then I proceeded to sink down in my chair with what I assume was a love struck smile.
Why, younger Autumn? Why on Earth would you say that? Did you think that was subtle or something? Did you think you were wooing him with your flirting skills?
Ugh, I cringe every time I think about. It gets worse though, believe me. Another time when he was actually at church, we were in the Nursery with some other people and I showed him a necklace I had recently gotten that had an N on it. I told him the N stood for his name. I told him that! I'm beginning to wonder if I just didn't care about being subtle at all. Later that day I accidentally threw a heavy, plastic, egg shaped toy at his crotch.
Yup, I was wooing him alright.
I still wonder why I ever had a crush on him.
My second crush was this really bratty boy who cried a lot. We were considered cousins, but it was distant so I didn't consider us actually related. How that one ended was when he stopped hanging out with me after he read my diary about my crush on him. It was awful. And I was so dramatic about it, too. I had this whole speech planned out to apologize for having feelings I couldn't control blah blah blah.
After that I just had bad crushes on boys I met at summer camp. My taste in guys got better as I went on, but then I made the mistake of secret dating one when I was twelve, thinking he was the one and we just had to persevere. I had this whole fantasy of growing up and getting married and having a big family with him.
Problem #1: WE WERE 12
Now, I'm not saying you can't date someone at a young age and end up having a future with them. One of my dance teachers got married to a boy she's liked and been with since she was 13. It just didn't work for me because I was a moron who thought I had everything figured out and I knew what love was.
Problem #2: He didn't want a big family. He wanted two, maybe three kids. I want five. I want lots of kids.
Problem #3: It felt wrong to be with someone without my parents knowledge and approval.
I'm a daddy's girl. Always have and always will be. I want a man who can get to know him and get my dad's blessing. When my future husband wants to propose to me, I want him to ask my dad. I want his approval, and it felt wrong to be going against what my dad has always told me. I didn't like disobeying him and my little secret boyfriend would always throw a fit whenever I suggested we wait (I ended up breaking the boy's heart, so he says, so it doesn't matter now. I realize that he was and still is really annoying and has little respect for girls.)
Problem #3: He didn't and still doesn't like to read.
THAT is a deal breaker for me. I'm a writer. I'm going to be a published author. That's going to be my career and life. He complained every time I sent him something to read. I'm not going to put up with that when it's something I'm passionate about. My sister, who is engaged to her boyfriend she's been with for three years, said that when you love someone, you love what they love. He didn't love what I loved and I didn't love what he loved. We were fooling ourselves with the idea of love.
Problem #4: We just didn't match very well
He got emotional and I got fed up. He complained and I complained about his complaining. I liked being alone when he wanted to be with him, and he wanted to be alone when I wanted to be with him. It just didn't work. It probably would've if we would have just waited until we were more mature and ready to maintain a healthy relationship. We were idiots and that not only ruined our chances of being together in the future, but it hinders any friendship we could've had.
My taste in guys has gotten better since I've matured and gotten to know and discover myself. I know what I want now and what kind of person I want to spend my life with. I don't really worry about boys much anymore because God told me through someone else not to; He's preparing someone for me and I have to be patient.
So that was the end of all my left and right, back and forth crushing. It doesn't work and I'm not going to convince myself that I know better than God (I most definitely do not. It is only because of Him that I'm okay now).
So there's someone out there for me. I don't need to search him out, I'm not desperate to find him, because God will bring us together when the time is right. I trust Him, so I'm waiting. Patiently and happily. I'm content with my single status.
Showing posts with label Autumn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Autumn. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 28, 2017
Tuesday, January 10, 2017
Autumn's Late Night With Eleanor & Park
January 10th, 2017
After my dad left for work at 5:55 this morning, I went into their room to plug in the wifi router (they've been turning it off at night for years and it still bothers me to no end. It's not like I'm going to stay up all night because I just can't resist being on the internet all night long. If I want to stay up, I'm gonna stay whether I have wifi or not. Internet isn't the problem). I never have to sneak and be as quiet as I possibly can when I enter their room where my mom is sleeping, it's pretty normal for me to go in there and plug it up whenever I'm awake early. My mom said, "Well, you woke up early." I responded with a "No I didn't." She was confused at that and was like, "Autumn, you do know what time it is, right?"
Oh yeah, I knew what time it was. Yeah, I was up early, but I didn't wake up early. After all, you can't wake up if you never went to sleep. I don't stay up all night every night, only when I get caught up in a good book or show. And sometimes I stay up when sleeping is difficult. I'd rather stare at the ceiling and look out at the moon every once in a while than struggle to fall asleep. It's more exhausting to me, and just not worth it. Last night was not one of those restless nights. I lost track of time while reading this incredible book (I actually just finished a couple of minutes ago). The only things that kept me awake was how insanely good the book was and the two bottles of water I drank with energy drink mixes. I did go to sleep around 7:30 am and got three hours sleep. My eyes kind of burned when I woke up and my whole body was begging me to go back to sleep. Another energy drink mix fixed that problem. Do I regret staying up so long? Not in the slightest.
The book I read is now my favorite. I never really had a favorite before, just a couple of books I enjoyed, like Looking For Alaska and Little Women. This book that I will own someday (I got it from the library) is everything I look for. I could continue on about how good it was, but how about I show what it is first.
Eleanor & Park is a stunning book that I recommend to everyone. Unless cursing and mentions of sex bothers you, go read this! I don't care what you have between your legs or whether romances just don't interest you. This book does not disappoint. It's not just about the beautiful love between Eleanor and Park (though it does focus on them), but everything in their lives. Their difficulties and life as misfits. My mom often says that she doesn't like to read romance anymore because it becomes cliché and predictable after a while. This one will not only surprise you, but leave you breathless as you read of the growth between these two. They're weird and funny and real (as real as fictional characters in a book can be). I will never forget reading this masterpiece and I will certainly never regret staying up all night to read almost all of it. I will suffer through burning eyes and a pounding headache a dozen more times if it meant reading something as good as this. I love it to pieces, and I'm sure you would, too.
Two misfits. One extraordinary love.
After my dad left for work at 5:55 this morning, I went into their room to plug in the wifi router (they've been turning it off at night for years and it still bothers me to no end. It's not like I'm going to stay up all night because I just can't resist being on the internet all night long. If I want to stay up, I'm gonna stay whether I have wifi or not. Internet isn't the problem). I never have to sneak and be as quiet as I possibly can when I enter their room where my mom is sleeping, it's pretty normal for me to go in there and plug it up whenever I'm awake early. My mom said, "Well, you woke up early." I responded with a "No I didn't." She was confused at that and was like, "Autumn, you do know what time it is, right?"
Oh yeah, I knew what time it was. Yeah, I was up early, but I didn't wake up early. After all, you can't wake up if you never went to sleep. I don't stay up all night every night, only when I get caught up in a good book or show. And sometimes I stay up when sleeping is difficult. I'd rather stare at the ceiling and look out at the moon every once in a while than struggle to fall asleep. It's more exhausting to me, and just not worth it. Last night was not one of those restless nights. I lost track of time while reading this incredible book (I actually just finished a couple of minutes ago). The only things that kept me awake was how insanely good the book was and the two bottles of water I drank with energy drink mixes. I did go to sleep around 7:30 am and got three hours sleep. My eyes kind of burned when I woke up and my whole body was begging me to go back to sleep. Another energy drink mix fixed that problem. Do I regret staying up so long? Not in the slightest.
The book I read is now my favorite. I never really had a favorite before, just a couple of books I enjoyed, like Looking For Alaska and Little Women. This book that I will own someday (I got it from the library) is everything I look for. I could continue on about how good it was, but how about I show what it is first.
Eleanor
. . . Red hair, wrong clothes. Standing behind him until he turns his head. Lying beside him until he wakes up. Making everyone else seem drabber and flatter and never good enough. . . . Eleanor.
Park
. . . He knows she'll love a song before he plays it for her. He laughs at her jokes before she ever gets to the punch line. There's a place on his chest, just below his throat, that makes her want to keep promises. . . . Park.
Set over the course of one school year, this is the story of two star-crossed sixteen-year-olds --smart enough to know that first love almost never lasts, but brave and desperate enough to try.
This book moved me and stirred something in me that made it to where I could never not like Eleanor & Park. I could never not love the story of these two and I could never not keep it close to my heart. It sticks with you in a breathtaking, unforgettable way. This is the kind of book I would read over and over and over again, and I usually don't do that in fear of getting bored of it, but I honestly doubt I could get bored of this one. It is written in both Eleanor's and Park's point of views, so you get to read and feel everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything. I highly suggest this.
I spent all night as I usually do when I'm up reading a good book: Covered in my penguin blanket with Eleanor & Park on my lap, all the while my cat cuddles up close to my leg (she's always cuddling with me in some form or fashion, usually on my chest, but I push her down to my legs when I'm reading. Never off the bed though. I love and dote on her too much for that). It was absolutely perfect. I loved every second of it.
Here are some other reviews that might be a bit more persuasive:
"Eleanor & Park reminded me of not just what it's like to be young and in love with a girl, but also what it's like to be young and in love with a book"
-John Green, The New York Times Book Review
"This sexy, smart, tender romance thrums with punk rock and true love. Readers will swoon for Eleanor & Park."
-Gayle Forman, New York Times bestselling author of If I stay and Where She Went
"Funny, hopeful, foulmouthed, and tear-jerking, this winning romance will captivate teen and adult readers alike."
-Kirkus Reviews (starred review)
"Eleanor & Park is a breathless, achingly good read about love and outsiders."
-Stephanie Perkins, author of Anna and The French Kiss and Lola and the Boy Next Door
"The pure, fear-laced, yet steadily maturing relationship Eleanor and Park develop is urgent
and breathtaking and, of course, heartbreaking, too"
-Booklist (starred review)
"Sweet, gritty, and affecting. . . Rainbow Rowell has written an unforgettable story about two
misfits in love. This debut will find its way into your heart and stay there."
-Courtney Summers, author of This Is Not a Test and Cracked up to be
"Rowell keeps things surprising, and the solution maintains the novel's delicate balance of light and dark."
-Publishers Weekly (starred review)
"In her rare and surprising exploration of misfit love, Rowell shows us the beauty in the broken."
-Stewart Lewis, author of You Have Seven Messages
Saturday, January 7, 2017
We All Fight
January 7th, 2017
I have many, many flaws. I could probably name all of the ones I am aware of, but that's not the point of this post. I'm not going to start complaining and putting myself down, but I do want to talk about a couple things about myself and things we all go through.
I, like many people, can easily give off the illusion that I have no problems. When I am in public and around people I know (or even don't know), I can make it seem like I have everything together and I am perfect and there is no possible way that I could have issues. I try my best to be polite and kind. I try my best to be as selfless as I can and I try my best to never complain. I do everything in my power to not seem weak or rude. It's not that I'm trying to deceive anybody, but I'm also not going around saying, "The world is out to get me! Oh, I have so many things that are just going wrong in my life. Woe is me!" Nobody wants to be around the kind of person who practically oozes negativity. I want to be positive and pleasant to be around, but I often take that and twists it's meaning that I have to pretend to be flawless.
Yeah, I have my problems, everyone does. I just don't talk about them. It's gotten to the point where if I do even say a thing about it that I begin to feel bad. There is this misconception that if you have issues and you talk about those issues, you are selfish. I have allowed myself to believe this for the longest time, but it's not true. So long as you are not using the things going on in your life to cause drama and get attention for the wrong reasons, talking about them is not something you should be ashamed. I started thinking about this a couple of months ago on a Wednesday night service at church. I can't remember what the question my youth pastor asked, but I answered by talking about how I fight through things that come up in my life, how I fight through the things that hold me back from being the woman of God I was made to be. When I got finished someone in the group named Bryce was gaping at me. He seemed kinda shocked. My youth pastor looked at him and questioned his expression. He said, "I just didn't know Autumn fought."
Everyone fights through something, this is a known fact, but some people are able to give the illusion that they have nothing to fight through. People like me are able to lead people to believe that we have everything together. I have my issues, we all do, and we don't have to be afraid of talking about them. If we need help or just some way of letting them out so that they don't pile up in our mind, we can talk about them. Write about them. We have been letting ourselves believe that saying anything about something negative in our lives is selfish and rude to the people we're talking to. If who you turn to is truly someone who cares about you, they won't think that you're just trying to get attention and make everything about you. They'll try to help you and listen.
There is nothing wrong with talking about your problems. We were not made to be by ourselves. We as humans can only handle things alone for so long. This whole topic came to my attention when I read over my last post after I woke up (I went to sleep at six in the morning, but still managed to get six hours of sleep). I looked at it and I did exactly what I thought I would right after I posted it. I cringed and I regretted it because I felt like everything I was saying was selfish and that I should keep those things to myself. I justified my guilt by saying, "So many people have it way worse than me. I have no right to complain over such silly things." This is a phrase that I hate. Yes, there will always be someone who has it worse off than you, but that doesn't mean how you feel and what you're going through is silly and invalid. You shouldn't have to hold back because someone has it worse than you. I'm not saying be obnoxious about it, but don't tell yourself you're being stupid by having feelings and things you have difficulty getting through.
This is something I'm still trying to convince myself.
The reason I abandoned and allowed all of my previous blogs and journals to fail is because I held back from being honest. I tried to make myself seem perfect and amazing through it all. I didn't talk about my feelings and my problems because I didn't want to offend anybody. I didn't want to be taken as a child who doesn't know anything. I didn't want to be looked at as naive and dramatic. No more of that. I am going to be honest and I'm not going to apologize for being human.
We all fight through something. Whether it's insecurity, anxiety, depression, something someone did to you, losses, lack of self-love, or anything at all! That is something you are fighting through and it's okay to be honest about it. It's okay to seek help and it's okay to tell somebody. Don't hold back because of that false image you made for yourself. We can get through this.
On a side note, today was freaking cold. My hands froze to death every time I went outside (what a wonderful time to have a birthday party for a one year old, right?). I'm just glad I had my penguin blanket with me all day. I love that blanket.
I have many, many flaws. I could probably name all of the ones I am aware of, but that's not the point of this post. I'm not going to start complaining and putting myself down, but I do want to talk about a couple things about myself and things we all go through.
I, like many people, can easily give off the illusion that I have no problems. When I am in public and around people I know (or even don't know), I can make it seem like I have everything together and I am perfect and there is no possible way that I could have issues. I try my best to be polite and kind. I try my best to be as selfless as I can and I try my best to never complain. I do everything in my power to not seem weak or rude. It's not that I'm trying to deceive anybody, but I'm also not going around saying, "The world is out to get me! Oh, I have so many things that are just going wrong in my life. Woe is me!" Nobody wants to be around the kind of person who practically oozes negativity. I want to be positive and pleasant to be around, but I often take that and twists it's meaning that I have to pretend to be flawless.
Yeah, I have my problems, everyone does. I just don't talk about them. It's gotten to the point where if I do even say a thing about it that I begin to feel bad. There is this misconception that if you have issues and you talk about those issues, you are selfish. I have allowed myself to believe this for the longest time, but it's not true. So long as you are not using the things going on in your life to cause drama and get attention for the wrong reasons, talking about them is not something you should be ashamed. I started thinking about this a couple of months ago on a Wednesday night service at church. I can't remember what the question my youth pastor asked, but I answered by talking about how I fight through things that come up in my life, how I fight through the things that hold me back from being the woman of God I was made to be. When I got finished someone in the group named Bryce was gaping at me. He seemed kinda shocked. My youth pastor looked at him and questioned his expression. He said, "I just didn't know Autumn fought."
Everyone fights through something, this is a known fact, but some people are able to give the illusion that they have nothing to fight through. People like me are able to lead people to believe that we have everything together. I have my issues, we all do, and we don't have to be afraid of talking about them. If we need help or just some way of letting them out so that they don't pile up in our mind, we can talk about them. Write about them. We have been letting ourselves believe that saying anything about something negative in our lives is selfish and rude to the people we're talking to. If who you turn to is truly someone who cares about you, they won't think that you're just trying to get attention and make everything about you. They'll try to help you and listen.
There is nothing wrong with talking about your problems. We were not made to be by ourselves. We as humans can only handle things alone for so long. This whole topic came to my attention when I read over my last post after I woke up (I went to sleep at six in the morning, but still managed to get six hours of sleep). I looked at it and I did exactly what I thought I would right after I posted it. I cringed and I regretted it because I felt like everything I was saying was selfish and that I should keep those things to myself. I justified my guilt by saying, "So many people have it way worse than me. I have no right to complain over such silly things." This is a phrase that I hate. Yes, there will always be someone who has it worse off than you, but that doesn't mean how you feel and what you're going through is silly and invalid. You shouldn't have to hold back because someone has it worse than you. I'm not saying be obnoxious about it, but don't tell yourself you're being stupid by having feelings and things you have difficulty getting through.
This is something I'm still trying to convince myself.
The reason I abandoned and allowed all of my previous blogs and journals to fail is because I held back from being honest. I tried to make myself seem perfect and amazing through it all. I didn't talk about my feelings and my problems because I didn't want to offend anybody. I didn't want to be taken as a child who doesn't know anything. I didn't want to be looked at as naive and dramatic. No more of that. I am going to be honest and I'm not going to apologize for being human.
We all fight through something. Whether it's insecurity, anxiety, depression, something someone did to you, losses, lack of self-love, or anything at all! That is something you are fighting through and it's okay to be honest about it. It's okay to seek help and it's okay to tell somebody. Don't hold back because of that false image you made for yourself. We can get through this.
On a side note, today was freaking cold. My hands froze to death every time I went outside (what a wonderful time to have a birthday party for a one year old, right?). I'm just glad I had my penguin blanket with me all day. I love that blanket.
Friday, January 6, 2017
There Is Nothing Wrong With Me
January 7th, 2017.
I love being alone. There's just something about the refreshing silence and the freedom to do anything without judgment after a day of constant noise that draws me in. I love being able to just sit with myself and be content with whatever I'm doing. Like right now I am sitting in my room (well, it's actually my older sister's room, but she's rarely home anyway. I've pretty much claimed it.) snuggling under my penguin blanket while typing away. It's relatively quiet right now, the only exception being the cold wind outside blowing against the window and the sound of the heater. It's relaxing because I don't have to worry about sitting up straight, sucking in, or trying to appear friendly with my "pleasant smile". While it can be a lonely and restless time for others, the feeling of being alone is soothing to me.
Merely being in public can be exhausting even after a short period of time. I don't know what it is about socializing, but even though I enjoy talking and joking with my friends, I tire of it quickly. My smiles become forced and I have to push myself to have fun. I love everyone in my life, but sometimes I just need to take a step back and enjoy some time to myself. I have more than likely hurt people by being doing this.
I have a friend named Sayla. We aren't exactly close. We haven't had that connection, if you know what I mean, but I'd like to think that we are good friends. A couple months ago she asked if I wanted to come over, and even though I do like spending time with her, I declined because I had already spent the majority of my week doing things. I was tired and I needed a break, and I was completely honest with her about it (though I may have sugar coated it a bit). I'm not trying to hide the fact that I'm an introvert, but sometimes I wish I wasn't. Sometimes I wish I could go to a friend's house no matter how many things I do in a week. I wish I didn't have to fake a smile or force myself to enjoy being around people after an hour. I wish I could handle summer camp and overnight trips like my friends can. But I can't and that frustrates me sometimes. I don't know if I had hurt Sayla's feelings, but even the possibility that I did makes me feel more guilty than I should. I am this way for a reason and there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. It is simply how I live, but sometimes I wish I could live in way that is easier for the people I care about.
I wish, I wish, I wish, I wish. I'm always wishing for something, and I wish I could stop and be happy with how I am, but life isn't that easy. There's always going to be something I wish I could change. There's always going to be something about myself I wish I could get rid of, but this is how I am. Some things are changeable and I can work on them for the better, but some things are not and I should accept that without feeling bad about it. Now, don't get me wrong, there is a vast difference between giving up and accepting. Giving up would be taking my temper and labeling that as something that is always going to be with me no matter how much I try to fix it. Accepting is looking at myself in the mirror and saying that there is nothing wrong with me and I don't have to worry. I want to accept myself, introversion and all. But I am a work in progress, we all are. I am working on myself, but the fact that I enjoy being alone more than I enjoy being around people is not something I have to categorize as a flaw. I like being alone, but that doesn't mean I'm anti-social. As much as I judge myself and stress so needlessly, there is nothing wrong with me as a whole.
I am usually quite happy with the fact that I am an introvert, but there are always those moments, like when I told Sayla I couldn't go to her house because I was tired (I felt so selfish telling her that), when being this way makes me dislike myself.
There is only one person outside of my family I can spend hours on end with without getting tired. I once stayed at her house for two days and was sad when I had to leave. I am more comfortable with her than I am with people I've known my whole life (technically I have known her my whole life, but we haven't been friends our whole lives). I can never thank her enough for accepting and loving me just the way I am. She sets the example for how I should love myself.
There is nothing wrong with enjoying being alone. There is nothing wrong with needing to spend time by myself. There is nothing wrong with needing to take a break from people. There is nothing wrong with being tired. There is nothing wrong with me, not in Elizabeth's eyes and certainly not in God's eyes. It's going to take me a lot of time to fully accept that, but I am a work in progress. I'll just keep repeating that there is nothing wrong with me like a prayer. I'll believe it eventually.
I love being alone. There's just something about the refreshing silence and the freedom to do anything without judgment after a day of constant noise that draws me in. I love being able to just sit with myself and be content with whatever I'm doing. Like right now I am sitting in my room (well, it's actually my older sister's room, but she's rarely home anyway. I've pretty much claimed it.) snuggling under my penguin blanket while typing away. It's relatively quiet right now, the only exception being the cold wind outside blowing against the window and the sound of the heater. It's relaxing because I don't have to worry about sitting up straight, sucking in, or trying to appear friendly with my "pleasant smile". While it can be a lonely and restless time for others, the feeling of being alone is soothing to me.
Merely being in public can be exhausting even after a short period of time. I don't know what it is about socializing, but even though I enjoy talking and joking with my friends, I tire of it quickly. My smiles become forced and I have to push myself to have fun. I love everyone in my life, but sometimes I just need to take a step back and enjoy some time to myself. I have more than likely hurt people by being doing this.
I have a friend named Sayla. We aren't exactly close. We haven't had that connection, if you know what I mean, but I'd like to think that we are good friends. A couple months ago she asked if I wanted to come over, and even though I do like spending time with her, I declined because I had already spent the majority of my week doing things. I was tired and I needed a break, and I was completely honest with her about it (though I may have sugar coated it a bit). I'm not trying to hide the fact that I'm an introvert, but sometimes I wish I wasn't. Sometimes I wish I could go to a friend's house no matter how many things I do in a week. I wish I didn't have to fake a smile or force myself to enjoy being around people after an hour. I wish I could handle summer camp and overnight trips like my friends can. But I can't and that frustrates me sometimes. I don't know if I had hurt Sayla's feelings, but even the possibility that I did makes me feel more guilty than I should. I am this way for a reason and there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. It is simply how I live, but sometimes I wish I could live in way that is easier for the people I care about.
I wish, I wish, I wish, I wish. I'm always wishing for something, and I wish I could stop and be happy with how I am, but life isn't that easy. There's always going to be something I wish I could change. There's always going to be something about myself I wish I could get rid of, but this is how I am. Some things are changeable and I can work on them for the better, but some things are not and I should accept that without feeling bad about it. Now, don't get me wrong, there is a vast difference between giving up and accepting. Giving up would be taking my temper and labeling that as something that is always going to be with me no matter how much I try to fix it. Accepting is looking at myself in the mirror and saying that there is nothing wrong with me and I don't have to worry. I want to accept myself, introversion and all. But I am a work in progress, we all are. I am working on myself, but the fact that I enjoy being alone more than I enjoy being around people is not something I have to categorize as a flaw. I like being alone, but that doesn't mean I'm anti-social. As much as I judge myself and stress so needlessly, there is nothing wrong with me as a whole.
I am usually quite happy with the fact that I am an introvert, but there are always those moments, like when I told Sayla I couldn't go to her house because I was tired (I felt so selfish telling her that), when being this way makes me dislike myself.
There is only one person outside of my family I can spend hours on end with without getting tired. I once stayed at her house for two days and was sad when I had to leave. I am more comfortable with her than I am with people I've known my whole life (technically I have known her my whole life, but we haven't been friends our whole lives). I can never thank her enough for accepting and loving me just the way I am. She sets the example for how I should love myself.
There is nothing wrong with enjoying being alone. There is nothing wrong with needing to spend time by myself. There is nothing wrong with needing to take a break from people. There is nothing wrong with being tired. There is nothing wrong with me, not in Elizabeth's eyes and certainly not in God's eyes. It's going to take me a lot of time to fully accept that, but I am a work in progress. I'll just keep repeating that there is nothing wrong with me like a prayer. I'll believe it eventually.
Thursday, January 5, 2017
A Little Habit of Mine
January 5th, 2017.
I have many little habits that a lot of people don't know about. It's not that I'm hiding them or anything, but they're the kind of habits that are so insignificant and small that either no one notices them or they just don't come up in everyday conversation. I'll probably speak more about these habits in the future, but right now I'm talking about one in particular that is actually pretty common.
I write on myself. It's more than just little doodles and shapes here and there though, I couldn't draw if my life depended on it. I like to write things to remember on myself. Paper can get crumpled and lost and ripped and so many other things, but it's hard to forget you have something you wanted to remember when it's in bold letters on your forearm. Right now I actually have a sentence on my arm from last Wednesday when my youth pastor was praying. It says, "If it was something I could do on my own, you would not have sent your son." She's kind of long-winded, but she speaks with so much strength and power that I like it more than anything. She is such an inspiration to me. I long to be the kind of woman she is. Her words and messages are so encouraging. I love writing down the things she says.
I also like to write other reminders on my skin. For example:
I have many little habits that a lot of people don't know about. It's not that I'm hiding them or anything, but they're the kind of habits that are so insignificant and small that either no one notices them or they just don't come up in everyday conversation. I'll probably speak more about these habits in the future, but right now I'm talking about one in particular that is actually pretty common.
I write on myself. It's more than just little doodles and shapes here and there though, I couldn't draw if my life depended on it. I like to write things to remember on myself. Paper can get crumpled and lost and ripped and so many other things, but it's hard to forget you have something you wanted to remember when it's in bold letters on your forearm. Right now I actually have a sentence on my arm from last Wednesday when my youth pastor was praying. It says, "If it was something I could do on my own, you would not have sent your son." She's kind of long-winded, but she speaks with so much strength and power that I like it more than anything. She is such an inspiration to me. I long to be the kind of woman she is. Her words and messages are so encouraging. I love writing down the things she says.
I also like to write other reminders on my skin. For example:
I wrote this Wednesday, too. My youth pastor and her husband will be transition to become missionaries with a sports ministry, so they're stepping down from being youth pastors. It's an amazing opportunity for them to not only grow as Christians, but spread the gospel. And I am ecstatic for them, I truly am, but it still hurts to see them go. They have done so much for me and they are very close to me. I cannot describe the way they have poured into my life and helped me change for the better, the way they have encouraged me to be the best person I can be and follow Christ without making it all about the dos and don'ts. They announced how and why they're leaving Sunday and I, of course, bawled my eyes out in the bathroom after letting a few tears slip out in the sanctuary. They were telling the youth group again Wednesday for anybody who wasn't there Sunday and I could feel myself starting to tear up again. I hate crying. No- I like crying when I'm by myself and I can let it out in peace, but I hate crying in public where people can see me. I didn't want to cry, so I took the pen I had and wrote "Don't cry". The only reason I took a picture of it was because after I wrote it I thought, "Oh! This would make a cool picture." and I posted it on Instagram XD
I also write things like "Calm down" and "Breathe" whenever I have to speak in front of even a handful of people. I write reminders that I'm doing okay and I don't sound stupid and that even if I mess up, no one will remember in a couple of days. I always do this when I'm feeling anxious or upset. I think it helps me stay calm and not freak out. Most of my habits are nervous ones, like I fiddle with my hair and sleeves or I'll sometimes count up to distract myself until I can calm down (last time I did that I counted to 307). I do all of these small things that little to nobody knows about, and I can't help but find them as the tiny things that help make up of who I am. It may be silly to think that, but I'm a very silly person with silly ideas.
I also write my otps on my skin, but I'm pretty sure every fangirl does.
Fun Fact: The only thing I can do well with my hands is playing video games.
Nope, not writing. You can probably tell that my hand writing isn't the best, and I don't even type on a keyboard correctly. I love writing and taking notes, but unless it's on my laptop, it doesn't look pretty.
A Little Lady Named Autumn
In my many failed attempts at writing a blog and keeping a diary, I have learned a couple things. One of them being that I will always have something to write, whether it's about my first crush and how awful my taste in boys were at the age of eight or my strange habit of deciphering a person's personality by their favorite color. I will always have something to write, but it will never get through if I don't take the time to actually write it (because duh). Another thing I have learned is that even if no one reads it, writing in a journal, a princess diary with a heart shaped lock or otherwise, is something of significance to me. Simply letting words and emotions spill out on a piece of paper or screen is something that gives me a thrill beyond explanation, because it is something that I can create with my own experience and feelings. And no one can tell me that I did it wrong, because it is mine and it is how I feel. I can feel negative emotions and I can feel things I shouldn't, but I cannot feel incorrectly. Writing is mine, and though this may be yet again another blog I trash because I don't do anything with it, I will share what is mine.
Hello, my imaginary readers and any wanderers who clearly have nothing better to do. My name is Autumn. I enjoy bundling up in my favorite fuzzy penguin blanket, listening to rain, drinking vanilla creamer with just a bit of coffee, cuddling with my cat, and writing while doing all of those things. I am just another teenage girl with too many things to do and too little motivation to do them, so I'm spending my "free time" writing the little things that happen in my life in a blog that no one will read (at least I don't expect anyone to read this). I will simply write of the things that are important to me and the things that happen and just the emotions of a teenager.
I made this blog for just a few reasons.
1. I was bored
Oh, how typical of me to start something crazy like a blog because of my constant boredom. I truly believe something will come out of this. My boredom always manages to bring out so many things.
2. I want to practice my writing
As I have said (and you have noticed, I'm sure) I enjoy writing. It is my passion and what I want to do with my life. I do not have a dream, but a goal to become a published author. I don't need to become a famous writer or anything, though that would be awesome, I just want to pour my soul into what I do and share it with the world. So I need to practice, and what better way than this?
That's. . . about it. Of course I could come up with some poetic reasons for writing this like,"I want to write about my life so that years along the line I can show it to my children!" or "I long to share my experiences so that I can reach out and touch somebody, if only to show one person that they aren't alone and I am such an inspiration. Oh, I'm so kind and generous blah blah blah."
What's the point of a journal if I'm making everything sound pretty just for the sake of sounding pretty? I'm gonna be honest, because I want this to be real.
I am Autumn, an unlucky little lady. I hope you stick around to read my ramblings of nonsense. I do not lead a particularly exciting life, but I don't believe that I have to write of wild adventures and drama that leaves people on the edge of their seat for this to be something of meaning. Every beating heart is a story, and every story is worth telling. I can't promise you much, but here is my story.
Hello, my imaginary readers and any wanderers who clearly have nothing better to do. My name is Autumn. I enjoy bundling up in my favorite fuzzy penguin blanket, listening to rain, drinking vanilla creamer with just a bit of coffee, cuddling with my cat, and writing while doing all of those things. I am just another teenage girl with too many things to do and too little motivation to do them, so I'm spending my "free time" writing the little things that happen in my life in a blog that no one will read (at least I don't expect anyone to read this). I will simply write of the things that are important to me and the things that happen and just the emotions of a teenager.
I made this blog for just a few reasons.
1. I was bored
Oh, how typical of me to start something crazy like a blog because of my constant boredom. I truly believe something will come out of this. My boredom always manages to bring out so many things.
2. I want to practice my writing
As I have said (and you have noticed, I'm sure) I enjoy writing. It is my passion and what I want to do with my life. I do not have a dream, but a goal to become a published author. I don't need to become a famous writer or anything, though that would be awesome, I just want to pour my soul into what I do and share it with the world. So I need to practice, and what better way than this?
That's. . . about it. Of course I could come up with some poetic reasons for writing this like,"I want to write about my life so that years along the line I can show it to my children!" or "I long to share my experiences so that I can reach out and touch somebody, if only to show one person that they aren't alone and I am such an inspiration. Oh, I'm so kind and generous blah blah blah."
What's the point of a journal if I'm making everything sound pretty just for the sake of sounding pretty? I'm gonna be honest, because I want this to be real.
I am Autumn, an unlucky little lady. I hope you stick around to read my ramblings of nonsense. I do not lead a particularly exciting life, but I don't believe that I have to write of wild adventures and drama that leaves people on the edge of their seat for this to be something of meaning. Every beating heart is a story, and every story is worth telling. I can't promise you much, but here is my story.
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