Adjusting Focus

 *TRIGGER WARNING REGARDING SEXUAL ASSAULT. 18+ LANGUAGE. It's taken me so long to finally type this. It's hard to get the words to say what this all means to me. The truth is, it's taken over a year to even realize that I was affected by such an event. Not to mention I didn't even realize what had happened until I was sitting in my room, at the beginning of being in lockdown from COVID, utterly alone. Scrolling on through an Instagram feed I stumbled upon, looking at images of individuals sharing why they never reported, wondering how such terrible things could happen to innocent people who never asked for it, when I realized how it could happen. Because it happened to me; I was sexually assaulted. The words are more or less still terrifying to write (I can't say them out loud), and the fear of my ex-boyfriend finding this and calling me a liar is very real. Maybe because I once agreed with him that I was a liar, and called myself one in poems written about and for...

It's been a while since I've posted here. Quite frankly I've been in some very dark spots over the last little bit and my motivation to write has been almost non-existent. I've spent more days crying on the floor and more hours sleeping than I would like to admit. But, for the first time in a very long time, I felt a burst of inspiration. I'm reading " The Gifts of Imperfection " by Brené Brown. I'm currently on a "vulnerability/courage journey" so that I learn to stop hiding and running from my emotions, share those emotions with others, and also learn how to be more present when I am feeling good (I often find myself on edge, waiting for the next "bad" thing to happen to ruin the happiness I have). It's been very eye opening, terrifying, and uplifting. Once again, for the first time in a while, I'm getting new ideas and writing more. I take notes constantly. I also cry a lot still, and throw my own pity parties because I w...

Since leaving my home in Massachusetts to go to my first semester at BYU-Idaho in 2016, I've managed to move/have new roommates every few months (and on a mission a new area and a new companion every so often). Though I like to plan out my life, I've grown accustomed to knowing no place is ever permanent for me. My move to Utah, though, would be different. I planned on being here for a while to get state residency, and hopefully apply to grad schools close by. That meant Salt Lake would (most likely) be the longest I've ever stayed in one place since high school.  I've come to realize that the inconsistencies of where I live and who I'm living with has been harder than I've led myself to believe. I used to tell people I loved the change of never being "still" for too long. In some ways, the change is nice. Moving and living with new people every so often has allowed me to meet my closest friends, and have some incredible memories/experiences. On the ot...

Every night, I take some time to read poems from some of my favorite poetry books I have. I've been marking some that particularly stick out to me with sticky notes. My books end up looking pretty worn and messy, especially with bent edges of various colored sticky notes adorning their pages. One night, I sat staring at the book in front of me, and found beauty in the messiness I held. It was an unusual feeling, because anytime things are out of order or not perfect, I feel uneasy, frustrated, like the world is closing in around me. My mind is unable to focus on anything else until I feel settled. I wrote down several thoughts I had about my OCD (obsessive-compulsive disorder) and how these sticky notes were some sort of symbol to me about overcoming my obsession with perfection. It rules pretty much every aspect of my life, but at the end of my notes I wrote, "OCD doesn't have to rule my love for poetry." I then wrote a poem with the opening line being, "Poetry ...

Good Friday was yesterday. Many (if not all) of you participated in, or at the very least saw a post about, the Worldwide Day of Prayer and Fasting. My heart remained heavy as I saw these posts and these invitations to join. I found myself struggling to have the desire to participate because of the betrayal I've felt from an organization I've dedicated my short life to. Before I continue, though, let me say this; I am in no way bashing on The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Personally, I would never do such a thing. It's something that offered me a lot of good growing up, and is something many of my loved ones know to be true, and I highly respect that. There are also parts of it I still believe and find good in. When watching General Conference last weekend, I recognized a large shift in what my life was like not that long ago. Flashes of my last conference, just last October, crossed my mind, because shortly before that conference, as I was pushing myself t...

I've spent the last couple months constantly on the move. Nannying part-time, trying to get 250 hours done for my internship, maintaining my physical health, and trying to find moments to myself have kept me busy. For the most part, I've loved every second of it. I was starting to feel fulfilled in life, starting to become a version of myself I was happy with. There was a sense of freedom and belonging I hadn't felt in a long time. Coming out and getting away from Rexburg was a huge burden lifted. But I write to you at 4am because I feel heavy. We all know the state of the world right now. Honestly, for the most part I've been pretty calm about it. I'm trying my best to do my part in flattening the curve, staying safe, keeping myself informed, etc,. Amidst all the chaos, I've found joy in the newfound hours I get to write and play the piano. All the memes make life a little more bearable and keep me laughing. I've been working out in my room to keep my bod...

"I have absolutely no doubt in my mind whatsoever AT ALL, that this is Christ's church, that the covenant path is ALWAAAAAAAAYYSSSS the easier, happier, more joyful, better path... [Christ] loves each and every single one of us more than we can ever comprehend." Nearly a year ago I wrote this in my final email home to my family as I prepared myself to leave my full-time missionary service for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. For 18 months I spread the gospel of Jesus Christ. I found a love for others I didn't think was possible. Leaving was the hardest thing I ever had to do. Following my homecoming, I felt a small burden lifted from me as I could finally take a nap, I could sleep past 6:30am, and stay up as late as I wanted to. I didn't have to wear a dress anymore and I was back to being a regular 20 year old. Music was such a huge part of my life and I was glad I could listen to old songs that used to make me happy and discover new ones. But d...

I'm currently writing to you as I sit on a blowup mattress in my brother and sister-in-law's living room, with what turned out to be a really bad braid, and with nails that are too long, so typing is actually really irritating. BUT I've had a post I've been meaning to write down for a while, so here I am. If you've followed up on this blog since the beginning of the year, you'll know my 2019 life motto is " Bloom ." It's a word which I feel sums up what this whole year was going to be for me- and it has. The year's not even over yet, but boy oh boy have I learned so much and found more of myself than ever before. I started college again, was seriously depressed and so anxious I barely left my room, decided to see a counselor on campus but he turned out to be... the worst... started the journey of medication, found a new therapist, ended up with a boyfriend for a brief time, gained and lost friends, started getting slightly political on social...

On July 29th, 2014, my sixteen year old self sat at my old laptop and began writing my first post as an amateur "blogger." I'd been wanting a blog for a while, mainly because I love writing, and because I had so many thoughts in my head-I wanted a place to express them. This blog was a way for people to look into my mind, my heart, and discover a part of me they didn't know much about. The only real problem was, I was sixteen and pretty clueless about the world, and I had a mother who I thought needed to approve of the idea first. I remember rehearsing how I would bring it up to her, how I would make it seem like a worthwhile thing. I was nervous about talking to her about it. When I did, she thought it was a good idea. So, I began taking the first steps. I looked for something to inspire me, something that would be the theme of this blog. In my short sixteen years I'd faced a lot and was starting to overcome my seemingly never-ending battle with anxiety and depr...

I've been spending a lot of my days at home, so to fill my time I've been playing the piano and writing a ton. I've been itching to write a new blog post, but I've been unsure of what to write about. I've played the piano for hours but left my laptop untouched because I wasn't sure what I wanted to say, and to be quite honest there hasn't been a lot going on in my life to even write about... But one day I decided to dedicate a lot of my day to writing. 9 times out of 10 I'll listen to music while I write. I have a Spotify playlist dedicated to this work and then every so often I'll find some kind of "ambient' or "chill" playlist on Spotify to be inspired by and continue adding to my Writing playlist (this is seriously one of my favorite pastimes of mine). So, that's all one big introduction to the fact that the other night I was listening to some quiet music at around 5:30pm, sitting at the kitchen island feeling kind of inspi...