Table for one, please.

I walked into the restaurant. The hostess looked at me and asked, "How many?"

I replied, "Just me."

..............................................................................................

This weekend I dog sat for my dad in Nashville. I've done this before but I normally have friends come with me and we make a weekend out of it. We spend the weekend exploring Nashville and enjoying each others company.

With it being the holidays, people were busy with family so I embarked on the weekend alone.

A few years ago, right after I finished my undergraduate degree, I remember having a phone conversation with my step mom. I had just moved back in with my mom and was getting ready to start grad school. In the conversation, I remember my step mom telling me something that completely puzzled me at the time. As I was talking to her about the new changes of my life she made this small comment, she said, "Well if you think about it, you've never really been alone. I mean, you've always had a roommate or someone around."

I was puzzled by this at the time because I always associated 'being alone' as not having a boyfriend. At the time it had been over a year since I had dated someone and if you were to add up the time I dated people in college, my time single our weighed my time in a relationship.

I really chewed on this statement for a while. As life progressed and continued to change dramatically, it was always in the back of my mind. It finally clicked one day, she was right. My life has not been filled with boyfriend type relationships, but it's always been filled with relationships. In college I was rarely alone, I always had someone to hang out with, someone to do something with. Being back in my hometown, the crowd of people to be around was small again. I didn't have the selection I had created in college and the number of people to do something with had dropped dramatically.

After I quit my job with Youth Villages, I made an effort to start doing things by myself more often. I decided I needed to learn to be alone and not have someone constantly around me. It took me a good 2 years, but I finally felt I had conquered a huge accomplishment in my life. I had learned to be alone.

I finished grad school, life threw more curve balls I had not expected, and I found myself back into my old ways. This time, my need for attention was ten times worse than before. I started going further than I had ever gone before to be with people.

I woke up, realized what I was doing, and started working back to what took me two years to build up again.

I'm happy to say that I recovered pretty quickly. I've found the joy in being alone again, until this weekend.

I had been looking forward to the weekend. I had been looking forward to going to the art museum, Franklin, and to just adventure around the city alone.

It hit me out of no where. This deep anxiety and loneliness suppressed me like a damp wash cloth over the weekend. I found myself worrying over little things and not wanting to do anything by myself. I made myself go out and do things anyways, but I felt like everyone was watching me the whole time. I felt 10 pairs of eyes on me constantly, as if everyone was watching my every move.

I had originally planned to try out a new restaurant in Franklin, but I just couldn't get myself to go and sit somewhere alone. The thought of sitting alone in a restaurant just increased my anxiety. I had decided I would just pick something up and take it back to the house. As I'm driving back, I'm analyzing myself in my head. I'm trying to figure out why I was making such a big deal out of something that wasn't a big deal. "Emily, you do things alone all the time. What's going on, girl?!"

I get back into town and finally convinced myself how ridiculous I was being and decide to go eat at the a chinese place I had eaten at before with my dad and step mom.

I go inside, the hostess sits me, I order food, eat, and leave.

It wasn't bad. It wasn't bad at all, so why had I been so anxious? Why had I freaked out about this whole thing?

It was in that moment that it hit me. I realized that the whole weekend I was feeling anxious about being alone because I was afraid people would wonder why I'm alone. I was afraid people would think something is wrong with me.

That has always been my underlining issue with being alone. I've always perceived people who are alone as something to be 'wrong' with them. That's the only reason they would really be alone, right? There has to be something that makes that person unlovable.

Truth is I'm not perfect. I've made mistakes, I struggle with things, but none of those things make me unlovable. I've had worries that have made certain things harder, but I've come to learn that all those things make me human, not broken.

My drive home yesterday helped me clear my head. I was bummed that I allowed my anxieties get in the way of a perfectly good weekend but as my phone rang and a number that is unknown, but really known, popped up I knew I had a choice. I knew if I answered I didn't need that person on the other end. I knew that loneliness is a bitch and it will crawl it's ugly talons back into my life on another day. With that in mind I let the call roll over to voice mail. I took a deep breath in and exhaled all the worries of the weekend out. "You're okay, girl." I whispered to myself. "You're okay."

Lighter Load

This is in response in an email I recently received:

This year, oh girl has it been one. I'm a totally different woman than I was this time last year. Hell, I'm a totally different woman than I was 8 months ago. This year has been a year of letting go. Letting go after letting go after letting go. What I have learned is very simple, short and to the point. I've learned that letting go makes you lighter and free. I have never felt more free in my life than I do right now. 

I thought I needed to hold onto everything, have control over everything in order for it to work in my favor, in order for it to turn out right but this year has proved me other wise. This year has shown me how freeing and beautiful letting go is, that half the reason I've been holding on were lies.

 I realized I made letting go a bigger monster than it really is. It's been like a tiger racing after me. I've run and run and run. Finally, I couldn't run any further. I lost all energy and fell to my knees. I sat there shaking, frozen, because the tiger was finally going to get me, it finally won. But to my surprise, when the tiger approached me it had no teeth and no claws. All it could do was roar and walk around me. It was never meant to hurt me.

That's what I've learned. I've learned that letting go was never meant to hurt us. The only purpose it serves is to give us a lighter load so that we can fly. 

At a time in the year to reflect what I'm thankful for, I can't help but to be overwhelmed with gratitude for the lighter load I'm walking around with these days.

Women, Math, and Love

I was riding in the car with a friend of mine this summer. As we were riding together, she was telling me about an event that had taken place between her and her husband that morning. As she's telling me the story, she makes the comment that she believes her husband is determined to find an equation that will help him to understand her. She then stated, "He's greatly mistaken by this idea, for there is no equation for me."

We both laughed in agreement that there is not and never will be a math equation in which women fit into to be understood.

Today love and relationships crossed my mind, as it does on most days. Being an analytical person and problem solver, I can't help but over analyze love. Much like my friends husband, I want to find an equation for love. I want to know that if I put a+b(c-d) I will get LOVE every time. 

I can't help but hear the same giggles and laughter from love, the same laughter my friend and I had when she mentioned the idea that women can be placed into an equation.

Here's the thing about love. Love has a few key ingredients that make it unpredictable. Love is made of mercy, grace, and forgiveness. When these three things are thrown into the mix, absolutely anything is possible. Wounds are healed, hearts are changed, minds gain new vision. They are the game changers. They are what make love so exciting. They are what make people sit for hours writing poems about love. They are what make us look into the face of a stranger and think "can I find love in you?"

For love has no face. Love can not be kept as a mere definition. Love is too big and too strong for a simple solution, simple equation. When you are as big as love, anything is possible.

When working with teenagers, love is always the topic of choice. I hear stories after stories of love and how it came together and how it fell apart. I sit and listen to each of them as they tell me their story. I sit and I show excitement in the exciting moments and show sadness in the sad ones. But the whole time I can't help but think, "You're missing it, dear. You're missing what love really is."

Sometimes I wish love were an equation. If it were, I would print them on business cards and pass them out to every person I came in contact with. It would make spreading love a whole lot easier. But the fact that love is not easy and cannot be printed out makes it so thrilling. It's what makes it worth waiting for and fighting for. 

Love is a big mystery and that's what makes it so enticing. 

Insecurities.

Comma splices.

Run on sentences.

Grammatical error.

These are just a few of the things I'm sure I do in EVERY SINGLE BLOG POST.

In school, English was never my strongest subject. I heard time and time again how I write like I talk and how that's not the proper way to write. I remember sitting in my 10th Lit class in high school telling myself that I was going to focus and finally understand this thing called grammar. But it never mattered how hard I focused, I just didn't get it.

"Why can we just not write how we think?" This was always my underlining questions as I tried to understand the English language and all the rules that come with it.

I'll never forget. I'll never forget the one day when my confidence changed. I was in my 11th grade American Lit class. By this point I had accepted the fact that the rules of grammar and I would never be friends. I loved words and I loved to communicate, but I had decided that writing just wasn't my thing.

I remember having a creative writing assignment. More specifically, we had to use imagery in this particular writing assignment. I chose to write about the beach. I remember breaking down the experience of going to the beach and writing it onto my paper.

When our teacher passed back our papers, I had received a 100 on this paper. Not only did I receive a 100 but he had written a compliment on the paper, telling me how well I written the paper.

I was blown away. I had never received a compliment on my writing before. Yet, here it was.

This was just the beginning of a whole new genre of writing for me. We eventually began to learn about poetry and I found myself writing poem, after poem. I begin looking up poems online and reading them. I wrote poems about the boy who I had a crush on in school. I wrote poems about friends. I wrote poems about being bored. Poetry and I had fallen madly in love with each other.

I never thought I would find love in literature, yet here I was. In love.

I remember sharing some poems I had written to a person I cared deeply about at the time. I'm a deep person and these poems were deep for me. I don't share the few poems I've written to many people, because they are like microscopes to my heart.  The person never again, for as long as I knew them, asked me about my poems again. They never asked if I wrote more. They never showed interest so I slowly buried that part of myself.

When I first started blogging, I made it very clear that I'm not a grammar person and made an apology in advance. Though I've gotten better, it's still not my strong suit.

Do you know what I've learned though? I've learned that even in my weakness, I can be used. Even if I'm not the grammar queen of this world, God can still use my rebellious way of writing.

I started blogging hard core this year due to the struggles I've encountered. I found myself in a deep journey to reconnect with myself, reconnect with who I am, and writing has been a major part of that process. It has helped me to clear my head, to think clearer, and most importantly, to help me be honest with myself.

I have found that through metaphors and rhythmic words, I have a way to portray the truth. I have a way to write the truth down. If it's written down, I have no other choice but to stare at it. I have no other choice but to go back and read it, over and over again. I can't run from it.

It's been amazing to see how God has used me through this. Over the past few months, I have had more than one person send me a message to tell me how grateful they are for the things I have been writing. People I haven't seen or spoken to in years have sent me messages telling me thank you for my positive attitude and positive words. I have been so overly struck and humbled by these words. I had no idea that my words were really being heard by people. I had no idea that what I was saying and going through was being used as stepping stones to help others get through their own fog. I had no idea.

I've had something wrote Paul play over and over in my head recently where he says, "For when I am weak, then I am strong." For he boasted that in his weakness, Christ power is the strongest.

I'm just blown away how God has used my weakness and insecurity in writing to make positive impacts for people. I am beyond thankful. For all I could ever want for each person, whoever reads this, I want good for you. Nothing but sweet, sweet goodness for you.

So I'll apologize to the grammar Nazi’s and grammar kings and queens of this world. I'm sorry for the twitches and tiny heartbreaks I give you every time I break a beautiful grammatical rule, but I'm not stopping. I'm not going to stop expressing my heart to you. I'm not going to stop telling you about the beautiful colors I see every day. I'm not going to stop telling you about the goodness, the heartbreak, the tears, the joys, I experience in this life.

I can promise that I'm working on how I write. I learn by example and reading other people's writing helps tremendously.

God tells me too many good things to keep from sharing them with you. My heart has too much love in it to allow something as little as my insecurities keep me from expressing it. My words might not be perfect, but I can promise you this one thing: they are true.

Love Sets Us Free

"I have to tell him."

I told myself this as I was driving home from work, lost in music, and lost in my own mind.

"I have to be honest. I can't be afraid to tell the truth."

I kept driving home, on the back roads of north Georgia, my window cracked. It was a random warm day in fall. I felt the sun sweeping in through the window and counteract the cold air coming in through the cracked window of the car.

I started taking in the colors of the tree's as I passed them, noticing their vibrant colors, I started drinking in the music as it danced it's way from the speakers to my ears. I was focusing on anything other than the words I needed to say.

I finally worked up the nerve. I finally convinced myself that I needed to say it.

"God, I know you are all I need. I know this but I need to be honest with you. I need to tell you the truth. It doesn't feel that way. I'm not sure I truly believe that you are enough."

There. I said it. I told God exactly how I felt.

Here's something I've come to learn about my relationship with God. I'm really quick to tell him the right answers. I'm like that little girl in Sunday school who is halfway asleep most of the time but when I actually pay attention and actually know the answer to a question, I can't help but blurt it out. I know the answer and I know it's right, therefore, I want to make sure everyone knows I know the 'right' answer.

This isn't working out for me. This 'right answer' living. It isn't working.

It's time I get into the mud, get dirty, and be HONEST with God. Tell him what I really think, even if it's not the right way to think. I need to tell him when I don't truly believe in something.

Because if I've learned anything about God lately it's that His love is bigger than us. His love is bigger than our doubts, our screw ups, our minds, etc. It's beyond comprehension and even though he's the first and only who has the right to judge me, He'll most likely be the last, that is if he hasn't already forgiven and forgotten about what I have done.

I've so badly wanted love to be a clean cut deal. I've so badly wanted it to be something that I could carry in my pocket and pick out when needed. But it's not the small and it's not that simple. Love is big and complicated and confusing and uncomfortable and most of all, IT'S FILLING. It's not a sugary substance that makes you feel good for the moment, but hungry later. No, that's not love. Love if a massive steak that makes you full for the next 3 weeks. Love breaks you where you need to be broken. Love calls you out in the area's you need to be called out in. But love is ultimately on your side. And through the breaking and burning away of the harmful sores we've allowed through love impostors, love takes away everything that has been holding us back. Love breaks us free from the chains and allows a freedom we never knew existed before.

Love sets us free.

It's set me free to the point that I can be real with God. I don't have to know all the right answers and I necessarily do not have to believe all the right answers. I can be honest and trust that if I'm struggling in believing something, I do not have to guilt myself, I do not have to hide. I can come before God, admit where I am and trust he'll take things from there.

What a beautiful place to be in. It's so beautiful.

We lose.

We lose.

At some point in time, in this life, you will lose something.

It might be a pen, keys, your mind, a job, a dream, a person.... Whatever it might be, the truth is that you will experience loss, multiple times, through out this life.

Even though we lose at times, we also gain.

I tend to just focus on the things I lose. I fixate on the losses of my life, wondering, and guessing why I lost these things, this person, etc. This is actually a horrible habit of mine. I will fixate on the things I have lost as if I was entitled to those things. As if the things, people, circumstance that entered my life that I put my hands on, my fingerprints onto, are mine to keep.

I fixate to the point that I get bitter about losing. I get bitter, mad, and begin to demand answers. I put my hands on my hips, look up to God and demand an explanation.

"Why would you bring me this just to take it away. WHY?!"

Well, God answers, but not as I always expect him to.

"I give and I take away. Find a heart thankful for both."

Find a heart grateful for both.

To thank God for what he gave, even though he took it away.

To thank God, even though you had to let go of something so beautiful.

It's not worth the bitterness to hold on. It's not worth the poison that seeps in with bitterness. It's just not worth it.

It's continuing in the act of letting go. It's thanking God for allowing a moment, even if it was short lived. It's finding beauty in that small moment and being grateful you were blessed with it for a short while.

For everything is a gift, we are not entitled to everything. God gives us good things, God gives us parts of him, but God knows us and he knows the timing we need with it to make it just enough. So I choose gratitude. Gratitude that God trusted me, for that small moment, with that sweet, sweet gift.

She Knew

She laid in bed alone with only the hum of the fan in the room. She could still smell the reminense of the candle she had blown out minutes ago.

As she felt the warmth of her skin linger into the covers she thought about you. She tried remembering your words, but she couldn't. She tried remembering your warmth, but it had faded. She could only remember fragments of you. Pieces that really never fit together.

As she continued to lay in bed and allow the heaviness of her eyes to take over, she began to feel a peace and gratitude overwhelm her heart.

You were never meant to stay, boy.

She knew, you were never meant to stay.