Whatever the future holds...

The future is unsure.
But God isn't.

The future is scary.
But God isn't.

The future is blurry.
But God isn't.

I always thought the future was so far away. I always thought that growing up was years away.

And now here I am, facing future...

Scared.
Nervous.
Unprepared.

The future comes faster than you realize sometimes. And suddenly, you are thinking about getting married going, wait this was supposed to be in the future.

But what if the future is today? What if what we dreamed about is what we are living now?

I know without a doubt what I want my future to be. And that future could happen sooner than everyone thinks.

I could be getting my own car soon... Oh wait. Done.
I could be going to college soon... Ummm...again in process.
I could be moving out soon. Scary.
I could be married soon. Yikes.
I could be moving to another state soon. Uhhh, didn't see that coming.

What if I am living the future now?

The future is what we make it. I make my future today. I make what I want tomorrow to be in the hours of today.

My life could be changing soon. Will I be ready?

Heck to the yes.

Because I am making my future today. I am preparing even now for what I want. So if it happens tomorrow, I am ready.

Silence

Am I the only one who struggles with voices in my head? Am I the only one who hears all their worst fears echo in their brains?

"You are no good."
"He doesn't really love you."
"Remember the last time you fell in love. You must be freaking stupid to do it again."
"You will never amount to anything."
"Your dreams are unrealistic."
"You are ugly."
"You don't deserve this."
"You aren't good enough."
"He is just saying that."
"You are annoying."
"No one likes you."
"Will you just shut up already?"
"You knew you were going to fail from the beginning."
"You look terrible."
"He doesn't want to marry you because you are too much of a screw up."
"One more mistake and he is going to leave."
"He is going to leave anyways."
"You are worthless."
"No one will ever want you."
"You are a burden."
"People can't stand you."

Those are some of the voices that silently torment me, speaking their lies as truth.

I needed an escape last night. I needed a break. I needed silence.

My favorite place on earth is a small pond about 4 minutes from my house. In the summer time there is a place under one the trees that is completely secluded. Last summer I sat there for hours on hours, just enjoying the sounds of the birds and the lap of the water. A few times I took friends with me and we would talk for hours about life and what the past was and how we were overcoming obstacles. But my favorite times of being there were the times that I would sit in silence. I never have cell service so it was wonderful to not even worry about my phone going off, or people needing me.

I was alone and it was quiet.

In the summer time it is green and secluded. No one can see you, no one can find you, but you can still see the sun set over the mountains.

Isn't it beautiful? I haven't been there since the leaves fell because I knew it wouldn't be the same.

But last night I needed silence. I needed to breathe. I needed to hear God again.

You see, I haven't heard His voice in a very long time. I was starting to wonder if He was actually real and if He still loved me. I needed Him but I felt like He was being silent to me.

But I found out last night that God wasn't being silent, He was waiting for my life to be silent. God didn't go anywhere, He didn't stop speaking. I just needed silence to hear him.

I am the perfect white girl who has no problems

I am the perfect white girl who has life handed to her on a silver platter. I have never had any problems, I am pretty and has the most clean and innocent past. I have everything together, my life is a model of perfection.

Okay so that is a bunch of bs but looking at me from the outside you would probably think that. 

I am white, I am pretty, I have a nice car and a full time job, I have a wonderful boyfriend, I have both my parents, they aren't divorced. My life is perfect. Can't you see how wonderful it is?

I am constantly being judged by how perfect my life looks on the outside.

My life is not perfect. My life is messy. I like it messy. I just don't like people who think life is wonderful for me just cause of the color I am and the job I have.

If you really knew me you would know that I have next to no money right now because the car dealership did not do the repairs they were supposed to so I had to pay for them anyways. If you really knew me you would know that because of the ice that I let build up around my heart, I almost lost the love of my life this last week. If you really knew me you would know that my parents aren't perfect, my life isn't perfect. My past isn't perfect.

My past is not pretty. In fact it is really messed up. And no one would know that by looking at me.

I look like the perfect white girl who has her stuff together. But I am not.

You don't see the suicidal 12 year old who cried herself to sleep every night and hid in her room for months.

You don't see the struggle of being on my own while my family struggled with my sister's health crisis.

You don't see the freshman who almost walked away from God because of a dead church and hurtful pastor.

You don't see the sophomore who fought off everyone who wanted to care about her until one person broke her shell.

You don't see the stupid junior who thought she was ready for a relationship and who then let a boy walk all over her heart.

You don't see the senior who spent every day fighting and arguing trying to keep a boy happy and her struggle to finally give up on the emotionally and verbally abusive relationship.

You don't see the 18 year old who jumped off the deep end because she just didn't give a crap anymore. You don't see the man after man that she let use her and walk all over her. 

You don't see the heartache of having men walk away when they were bored with her because she wouldn't give them sex.

You don't see the counseling and months of crying and feeling numb and dead.

You don't see the girl who lost the one grandparent she felt actually loved her.

You don't see her screaming at God night after night, asking Him why the he-double-ll He took her grandma and not the piece of crap grandpa who sent just a check in the mail for her graduation.

You don't see the anger and bitter hatred she harbored towards so many people.

You don't see the days of wanting to run her car off the road because she felt so worthless.

You don't see the day after day struggle to keep her heart open and receptive. 

You don't see how hard her current boyfriend has had to fight to get to where he is in her heart now.

You don't see the daily struggle to just put one foot in front of the other.

You just see her smile.

You just hear her laughter.

You just look at her happiness and assume that life is perfect.

She tries to not complain.

She tries to not burden anyone.

She doesn't trust people with her pain.

She does it on her own.

So you think she has it all together.

But this perfect shell is cracking. And she isn't as pretty underneath as she is on the outside. Because she just pretends to be put together on the outside.

She is a mess. But she likes her mess. She likes life not being perfect. She likes the cracked surface of her heart.

She knows that because her life has been hell on earth, she can help people not make the same mistakes. She knows so much more about life and herself now than she would know if she had not gone through everything she did. 

She isn't a perfect white girl. She has a lot of problems. But that's okay. She likes her life.

Love, Kiki

Losing the walls...finding freedom.

How can everything fall apart so suddenly? How can my world be ripped from under my feet in a matter of one sentence?

It is because I love deeply and now more than I have ever loved before.

And it has the possibility to kill me. It has power over me.

I feel sorry for Cody. Honestly and truly I do.

I am a train wreck. And then I try to get up and go again without taking time to put myself back together and I make a bigger wreck down the line.

I feel sorry for the mess that is my heart. Sometimes I fight off the person who loves me the most.

There is a dam inside my soul that has been holding all my tears for who knows how long now. And that dam is about to break and the waterfall of my heart is about to happen. And I am scared of it.

I am afraid I might not stop crying.

I am broken. I have broken people. I have made messes that I can't repair. I have hurt people that I can't heal. I have lost people I should have held onto and I have held onto people I should have let go of.

And now I have built a wall so high around my heart that even the one who loves me can't get inside.

And why? What benefit does that have? What good does that do me? None. It is more harmful than anything physical thing I could do to myself. It is a dagger in my own heart.

Barricading your heart against pain blocks out love too.

And for the walls around my heart, I say goodbye.

You have made me lose too much. It is time for you to go. Every single one of you.

I am knocking you down with my sledge hammer. I am tired of you. And if you try to rebuild yourself, I will knock you down again and again. I might fail, my heart my go into hiding. But not for long.

I have too much to offer the world to live in a tower.

I want to breathe. I want freedom.

Nothing can be sold without a woman's body...

Nothing can be be sold without a woman's body...

Ever thought about that? Hmmm... I think it is more true than I think we realize.

Today I realized this as I'm sitting in a flight next to a guy. Now normally I don't pay much attention to men, they aren't worth the second glance. But what caught my eye today was the tattoo he had on his arm. It was the shadow of three crosses in the clouds and the outline of a man sitting next to them. Now I don't particularly agree with this tattoo...partly because only one man next to Jesus went to heaven, and Jesus didn't go to heaven right after the cross anyways. But hey, who am I to judge? It's a nice tattoo besides my little hang ups. It's brave to display your faith on your arm where there is no denying what you believe.

So being the wonderful nosey person I am, I started watching him. As most people on the flight he was bored so he started reading the wonderfully entertaining magazine that is located in the seat pocket in front of you. Okay if you didn't say that in an annoying loud speaker voice, you don't fly much. So I'm watching him read this magazine and I watch him pretend to be interested in what is on the front page. And I realize why he is so interested. There is a lady jogging in tight yoga pants with a low cut shirt. Now a girl would go, ugh I want her body, and move on. But this guy pretended to be interested in every word on the page.

Now before I go any further please let me clarify, I am not bashing on this man. For all I know he really was reading something that caught his eye. I am in no way better than him because he finds a woman's body appealing. My sins are just as "deadly" as his. And we have both been given the exact same amount of grace and forgiveness. The moral of this story has nothing to do with him whatsoever. So please know, I am in no way, shape, form, or size looking down on him, judging him, anything of the sort. Like I said, I am not certain that he was staring at her, this is simply my observation. And I was being ridiculously nosey.

Back to my story.

So he finally turns the page and bam! Another woman. Poor man. Geez. Bad enough there is a huge picture on the front, there's another one. Which again he spends extra amount of time reading that corner of the page. So I'm sitting here like holy cow. Can these guys get a break already? Next page....AGAIN. Tight pants, tight shirt, selling anything but the product. Hmmm...

So at this point I'm curious so I pull out the magazine myself cause I'm scared I might get caught staring soon! Every darn page of this thing has a woman on it. A pretty woman, tight clothes, selling something.

At this point I see another bored man looking at the same magazine. And guess what, he stops on all the same products too.

So basically, if you want to sell something you have to sell a woman's body first.

Now here is what's got me all riled up. A woman's body is beautiful, sacred. I know, I've got one. It's pretty awesome. And I don't want anyone seeing it but my husband. It's not for other men to stare at and drool over. I dress modestly for that reason alone. I don't want you dreaming about me in bed with you just because of the clothes I am wearing. Now it's not my fault if you do, you are responsible to God for your own actions. But so am I. And may I ask, what respect does it show I have for my body if I'm placing it on display for every one's view? Uh hello, none.

It's like when you go to buy a couch and they are all out of the one you want but they have the display one left. Oh sure it's the couch you want, but how many other people besides you have sat in it, farted in it...well you get my point. The display couch isn't fully yours, its been shared with those looking to buy before you.

I don't want to be a display couch.

I want to have one man who knows my body, not every man who walks down the street.

But why do we use a woman's body to sell things? Why do we take something sacred and beautiful and make it a display couch? Because you see, those women have husbands and boyfriends too. Those men have to deal with the fact that they are sharing their lovers body with a million other men's eyes.

Why? Why can't we sell products without selling ourselves? Why do we teach our girls through advertising and TV and movies that a woman's body belongs to men. That for men to "buy" it they have to be appealing and sexy. Why do we teach our girls to be display couches? Showing off everything they have to the next available buyer.

You know what happens with that mentality? Our precious girls get their hearts broken. Because not everyone who sits on a display couch buys that couch. Some just need a place to rest their feet, some are just looking. And when this happens girls feel like they are less valuable than the brand new couches so they put themselves on clearance for the lowest price. Hoping that someone will buy them if they don't have to pay much for them.

I've been a display couch. I've put myself on clearance. I've watched one man after another sit on me, throw his smelly feet up, and when he got bored he got up and moved on. When men don't pay a lot for something, they tend to move on to the next cheap thing very quickly.

But I also know that my God is in the upholstery business. I know He can take a clearance couch and make it brand new again. And this time, I'm made out of gold. And no man can tarnish my surface unless he puts a ring on my finger and says I do. Pay before you sit!

So lets help our boys stop sitting on display couches and lets teach our girls that their bodies are precious treasures, sexy and alluring, and made to stay in the box until the right man pays the right price.

God always provides...

God will provide. That has been my motto for the last few months of trying to get to this point. God will provide. And honestly, He has.

If I look back since January, the things that He has provided for me are overwhelming.

I started fundraising at Christmas time.
I bought plane tickets to go see Cody in at the end of March, $450.
I booked a hotel for myself while I was out there, $200.
Got a loan for a new car, $9014.
Getting the car examined by a mechanic, $100.
Couple of cosmetic repairs on the car, $250.
Trip to the DR, $1600.
On top of insurance, $150. Phone $40. Child I sponsor in Africa, $42. School $160.

Okay you get the point, it has been a tight few months.
But God always provides. He provided a car loan that I did not have to pay a down payment on. He provided when my trip needed to be paid for. He gave me some extra cash to spend on buying pads for the girls in the Dominican. God always provides.

But last night I was starting to get a little scared. Okay maybe I am still scared. I am flying half of the way on my own. I have flown like 3 times in my whole life and ALWAYS with someone who knew what was going on. I was literally having an anxiety attack last night on the phone. God, why are you trying to pull me so far out of my comfort zone?? UGH!

So today, yeah still freaking out. I felt like throwing up at work. I have so much on my mind and stuff to do I was like scared I was missing something and then scared about flying....AKA Chiarra was having a melt down. Bad melt down.

But then when I got home, God provided again.

My wonderfully daddy asked if I wanted him to walk me all the way to security tomorrow. I wanted to cry tears of relief... He is the best. Seriously.

So you see, God really does provide. And right now I am crying tears of relief knowing that my loving fathers both have my back.

God always provides and He always will!

What I said was...

Okay so yesterday I had said that I was a beautiful person and I loved myself and blah blah blah... You can go look at it if you want proof...

Well by the time I made it to 8pm, I wasn't feeling so beautiful.

And I lost it.

I started yelling at Cody for whatever reason that I was upset (I don't remember half of the things that I was mad about). Not only was I yelling at him, every time he would try to say something I would just say nevermind, or don't worry about it, or its whatever it doesn't matter.

And why?

Because I don't think I deserve for you to make it better. I don't think that I am valued enough to be fixed by you. I don't think that I am of enough worth to accept an apology.

But oh can I give them! I swear I say I am sorry more than I say my own name...

I am sorry I am being such a crazy lady.
I am sorry for acting like this.
I am sorry that I brought it up.
I am sorry...
I am sorry...
I am sorry......

Over and over again.

And why? It's all I know how to do.

Growing up I was always asking forgiveness for everything I did wrong and very rarely getting asked to forgive someone else. Then my first dating relationship was full of "sorry."

Sorry for looking at him.
Sorry for laughing at his joke.
Sorry for hugging him.
Sorry for not paying enough attention to you.
Sorry for not giving you what you need.
Sorry for having feelings.
Sorry for being hurt by what you did.
Sorry...
Sorry...
Sorry.......

It is like a resounding gong in my head that is starting to drive me nuts.

I never let someone say sorry to me. I always say, its okay, it doesn't matter, water under the bridge, no worries.

I don't think that I am of enough worth for an apology.
I don't think that my emotions and feelings are valid enough to be an other's concern.
I don't like you to apologize because I never know what it really means.

Sorry I hurt you but it was because you did this...
Sorry that you are upset but you shouldn't have done...
Sorry you didn't like that but you did that when I did...

I hate "sorry but you did/said/etc..."

So I don't let people say sorry cause I always end up taking the blame anyways.
Why not just me take the blame right away because I am going to get it in the end anyways?
Yep! That is what I do. Take the blame before you can even place it on me.

So what I said yesterday is that I am a beautiful person, but I still am working on believing it in my heart.

Sorry for not taking what I said to heart and actually using it.....

Thinking less of yourself...

Though she be but little, she is fierce.

I don't always feel that my life is anything spectacular. I sometimes feel like I am just a girl stuck in a rut of school and a full time job. I have a few close friends and people that I see on a regular basis. I am fairly upbeat on the outside but I wouldn't say I am that bubbly person that everyone always remembers. 

But yesterday I thought of something that was really mind boggling... 

I am a beautiful person.

Okay so maybe I haven't done anything super fantastic, I am not drop dead gorgeous, I am not going to go down in history for changing the world...

But I am beautiful.

And I was thinking this as I was walking through the camping section in Walmart with a cart full of pads.

Okay so let me give you some back story on that! I am going to the Dominican Republic to volunteer at a home for girl's who were rescued from sex trafficking. I am bringing down pads and bras for the girls.

So here I am in Walmart last night, with a cart full of about 350 pads, in the camping section trying to find a rain poncho. And oh boy let me tell you the looks that I got!

And I didn't care one bit. I was proud to be walking around with a cart of pads. I was proud of people staring at me. I was proud of the fact that I was blessing someone else's life.

And then I thought, why aren't we allowed to be proud of ourselves? Why aren't we allowed as women to look in the mirror and go, "Holy freaking cow, you look sexy today." Why don't we ever tell ourselves that we are good enough, or that what we are doing is pretty fantastic.

It is because as women we are taught to take up the least amount of space possible. We are taught that our beauty is to be admired by someone other than ourselves. And if we think we are beautiful we are stuck up and arrogant. We are taught that we have to be skinny and silent, that we shouldn't call attention to ourselves.

Well I am tired of it.

I am tired of being made to feel that I can't think I am beautiful. I am tired of being made to feel that I can't think I am awesome.

Because I need to work on my self-esteem. 

So you know what I did, I made a picture of myself my phone screen because I think I look really hot in it. And last night I proudly walked through Walmart with my basket of pads because I am going to the Dominican and I am doing something for someone else. Yeah I may not feel beautiful, yeah I may still feel like I am not doing enough with my life.

But just because I am a woman does not mean that I have to think less of myself than I really am.

And even as I write that everything in me is screaming that I am wrong to say that. I feel like I should say something to bring myself down. I feel like I should name my flaws so that you don't think I am bragging on myself.

But where in the Bible does it say, "Talk badly about yourself so that people do not think you are arrogant" or "Have a poor self-image so you are not prideful"?

I can think I am a beautiful person, I just can't act rudely to others. I can't think about myself higher than others, but that doesn't mean I can't think about myself at all.

Thanks for letting share my heart for today, I promise I am not trying to be prideful... 

Because thinking less of yourself is not the way to humility.

It is thinking of yourself less that is what makes you humble.

Hey that's mine...

I have been on my own since I was young.

I haven't let anyone help me or be there for me. I can do it on my own and I have been doing it on my own.

I have been great being solo. No one knows my true heart, what is under my skin, what I am truly made of.

But is this healthy? No not at all. Cause we all need someone. And I am too busy being strong to realize that I need people.

My heart is mine. It belongs to me.

Get out of it.

Don't touch it.

Stop.

I have monsters that fight to fend off anyone that gets close to my heart.

They will eat you alive,

But doing life alone is lonely and scary.

Life by yourself isn't going to get you anywhere.

Don't let just anybody into your heart.

But let someone in.

Because while my heart is mine.

I am no longer two years old.

I can't scream, "Hey that's mine!" and grab my heart back when someone wants to enjoy the beauty of it too.

What keeps me here...

Today I saw a post on Facebook about a girl who said that she wanted to marry a man in uniform because it would go with the colors that she had already picked for her wedding and she wanted engagement pictures with him in uniform. "People will have to respect my relationship if I am dating a man in uniform. Plus men in uniform are just sexy."

It took all self-control I had in my body to not comment back and tell her that she didn't deserve a man in the military. You want a man because of the name he gives you and the pictures that you will take together?? That is really messed up and it makes me infuriated.

Because military relationships are hard as hell on earth. They are not flowers and butterflies and sweet love letters. Most people don't truly know what it is like to be in a military relationship so let me open up the curtain a bit...

My relationship is a text at 4am saying, "Hey babe, I am off to work, love you *kiss kiss*". (Yes, he is so adorable that I get a good morning kiss even from miles away!) It is a text at 2pm, "Hey I am back now!" To which I may or may not get around to replying to for a few hours because at this point, I am in the middle of my work day. Then it is a call on my way home from work to talk about our day in between me screaming at the stupid people who can't drive. If I am lucky, I have nothing planned that night so that we can talk for about an hour or so before he falls asleep. Then once he is asleep, I stay on the phone while I do whatever I need to get done that night because when I go to fall asleep, I love being able to hear him breathe.

We talk about how much we wish we were wherever the other one is, what we would do if we could see each other. We talk about how many days we have left until I visit and how we want it to be today. We talk about everything...from my work to his roommates, from how stupid psychology homework is to the DMV in Connecticut. Sometimes we talk for an hour, sometimes he is too tired and we make it only 15 minutes. Weekends are my favorite because we talk for more than two hours sometimes!

Communication is all we have. It is all we get. I don't get date nights and cute plans on the weekends. I don't get to post a picture on Instagram about "going to dinner with my honey". I can't hold his hand whenever some creep is staring at me. I can't stay out till curfew watching movies and having tickle fights. I don't get all the cute relationship things that most couples get and strive on. I don't get kissed every week, I don't even get a hug when I am sad and crying.

So no, you do not want a military relationship because his uniform will match your wedding colors. No you do not want cute engagement pictures. And if having a man in uniform is the only way for you to get someone to respect your relationship, you need to take a hard look at your character. Because chica, he can do better than you. (For anyone asking I do not personally know this girl so it is nothing against anyone who would read this!)

What keeps me in this relationship is not the fact that my man looks sexy in dress blues (even though he definitely does!). What keeps me here is not the fact that when he is around we have cute pictures together. What keeps me here is not the "respect" that I get from being with a military man.

What keeps me in this relationship is the fact that we know each other inside and out. It is the fact that he loves me so deeply and profoundly that I can't even comprehend it. What keeps me here is that even when he is angry with me, he never yells at me and he is still loving when I am being stupid and rude. What keeps me here is the fact that he asks me to rely on him, that I am never a bother to him, that he will listen to me with his whole heart. What keeps me here is I am his escape and where he goes when he has problems too.
What keeps me here is the fact that I love him from the tip of my toes to the top of my head. What keeps me here is that for once I feel safe giving someone what is inside my heart. What keeps me here is having someone that I could see spending the rest of my life with. What keeps me here is that we communicate like none other, that every issue and problem is dealt with to the very last little detail. It is the fact that I am not pushing my pain and anger and frustration down anymore, I am learning to talk about things right away (with the loving help and coaxing from Cody). What keeps me here is the fact that when my friends are not being treated with the utmost love and care, I can say, "You deserve better and it is out there. I know this because Cody does _______ and ________ for me." I can use my own life as a positive example of what it means to be loved and cared for in the deepest way.

I stay because I love him more than anything. And he adores me with every fiber of his being.

Uniform or not, my man is wonderful.

So it is not the uniform that you date a man for. It is the man in the uniform that you date.

So there you have it! My late night rants about stupid girls and my wonderful man.
Love, Kiki