2020: Persist

Persist.

I can't get this word out of my mind. But it doesn't roll off the tongue quite like my past words have and that bothered me.

I searched for synonym words that could bring the same meaning but nothing compared.

I thought about using the word Surrender for a second year in a row because that word has been so powerful for me this past year but I also know I need to have a new focus as this next year begins.

There are huge changes on the horizon.

Two weeks into 2020, I am finally beginning my student teaching journey.

I. Am. So. Scared.

Fourteen weeks of no income and not having the flexible schedule to balance motherhood and work. It just feels like a lot. It IS a lot.

I'm worried I won't be a good teacher. I'm worried I'm not smart enough. But I'm utilizing my word from this year--surrender--and I'm just giving all of those fears to God and moving forward.

2019 was one of our best. And surrendering my life to what God asked of me was hard but good.

In August, I pulled the plug on our crazy dance life. I still miss it. It's still hard. But a lot of that is because of status. Having a daughter who was incredibly talented made me feel like I was crushing motherhood just a little more. Weird--but true. The competitive dance world is hard and giving it up for the betterment of my family was not an easy decision. I really think God ultimately made the decision because the day I made that choice, I just couldn't see my life moving forward with dance. I miss watching Hayley on stage. I really do. But I love the time our family has spent together the past four months.

I surrendered my life to God when I chose to adopt Nixon. It didn't necessarily make sense to those outside of our family. And I had fears regarding that huge decision too. I was scared I wouldn't be enough for him on my own. But I also know how much I love this boy and so I surrendered my worries to my Heavenly Father and put all of my trust for our futures in His hands.

I truly learned a lot from surrendering a lot of big decisions last year. Utilizing the word surrender helped me to be able to let go of anxiety and have faith.

In 2020, I really feel like we are going to make some huge, positive changes. 
-Finishing school and *hopefully* being able to find a teaching job will allow me to spend more time with my family and support our family more.
-Continuing to foster and serve our community will push us to grow as a family and learn from each child we have in our home.
-Hayley is starting the Young Woman program at church and with that, she will experience growth and hopefully be able to find more friendships at church. She will also go to junior high this year--not loving that thought right now--but more opportunities for growth!
-Andersen is also starting a new church program that I think will help him to grow and make more friends.
-Nixon is turning 2 this year and that's all sorts of weird. He is going to be a whole different kid by the end of the year because he seems to be changing and growing every day!
-And I've got some other goals on the horizon that are personal to me.

Persistence is such an important role in all of this. To me, persistence means not giving up when things get uncomfortable.

A year ago, I gave up on my student teaching because I was spread way too thin and could not see myself giving enough attention to student teaching and my family. Because our dynamic is different this year, I am ready to power through the scary moments.

Persistence is a reminder that if I have a hard day or a hard week, I need to look ahead and fight for the good days. Persistence means not giving up on my mental health and continuing to learn how to care for myself so that I can better care for my children.

This is my year, y'all. 

I can feel it. 

How Do I Do It?

This past weekend, my brother finished his two-year church service mission with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He's my hero, that kid. The obstacles he has faced in his life have been challenging but have not kept him from his goals and I think that's what I love about him the most.

He is a great example to me of doing hard things. 

On Sunday evening, my family threw an open house for him so that people who have been a part of his journey could celebrate his accomplishment. This was something I was selfishly looking forward to because I knew I would get to see many people from my childhood years, people who had helped shape me into the person that I am today.

Throughout the night, there seemed to be a theme among people that hadn't seen me in years and asked me whose baby I was holding.

"Mine!", I would reply, before explaining how Leo came to be in our family. And as soon as I would finish, the question was always the same. "How do you do it?"  

It's a fair question, although being treated like Super Woman when you often feel like Hot Mess Woman is a little uncomfortable for me.

But I wanted to address that question in blog form because it's usually pretty hard to articulate when I'm asked face-to-face.

How do I do it? 

How do I raise two biological children while also raising the sweetest little baby boy through foster care? How do I work 30+ hours at a pediatric doctors office while my kids are in school and promptly go work another 14+ hours working at the dance studio every week? How do I manage to be in school full time, this semester taking 6 classes total online?

How do I do it? 

I take it one day at a time and my Google calendar is my lifesaver. My ex-husband's wife was actually the one who suggested a Google calendar because I could update it and it would be shared with the two of them. Genius! I now have three calendars on there---a calendar for the kids that is shared with their dad, a calendar for Leo, and my own personal calendar. Everything is color coded and includes every little thing you could imagine, including which days the kids are with which parent and everyone's personal (and crazy) dance schedules.

My calendar is pulled up on my computer and my phone at all times and I check it multiple times a week to make sure I'm staying on track with everything that we are doing.

How do I do it? 

I go to therapy. 

I remember a few weeks ago when my therapist asked me, "Suzanne, what do you do for self care?". I couldn't really muster up an answer because I was feeling especially defeated that day. But when I got home, I realized that therapy IS my self care. I know it won't be forever and quite honestly, I find myself not relying on it as much these days but back in January, when I was suffering from PTSD regarding the nine month trial that had happened most of 2017 and I had to imagine what life would be like if there was a huge custody change for my children, I needed her as much as I needed air or water or food. I relied on therapy because my beautiful life---the life where I fought for what was best for my children and ultimately was given what was best for them---just seemed so uneasy most of the time.

How thankful I am to no longer be in that same place that I was back in January of this year.

How do I do it? 

I rely on God. 

Yes, I should've put this one first because it is definitely at the top of that list. But I don't feel like moving it so you're just going to have to trust that it is the most important one to me.

I like to say that I rely on God but often times, God just shows up even when I think I can do this without extra prayers or asking for guidance (because I'm kinda stubborn). God is a huge part of my life and I have a gift of feeling close to Him even when I'm busy and life seems to take precedence. I recognize the many moments where God has led me to where I need to be. In fact, take Leo for example---I know Leo is supposed to be in our family. I knew I was called to foster care without knowing why. Leo is my why. Yaya was my why. God knew He needed me to protect these babies at these specific times, even though my life did not seem to be in the perfect "foster parent" position. But I'd argue that is ANYONE'S life in the perfect position to become a foster parent? It's messy and all the training in the world cannot fully prepare you for the experience that is foster parenting.

How do I do it? 

I let things go. 

I do the things I need to and the things that I want to do and I give myself permission to let other stuff go. When a friend wants to hang out and I literally write back, "Sure! I am available two Thursdays from now.", that is not me being a jerk or not wanting to see my friends. If I can make it happen, I try to. But my kids come first. And my work comes second. And school comes third. The rest of the things may or may not happen.
And that's ok! 
I have realized this past year that I get to choose what to put in my life and that I don't need to feel guilty about the things that take a backseat to what I believe is most important.

How do I do it? 

My tribe supports me. 

I wouldn't be able to do this life thing without my family or friends. They willingly take my kids on Saturday mornings while I teach. They listen. And that might be the biggest support. I have a few friends who I talk to almost daily about the ups and downs and everything in between. They listen and offer guidance but often times, they just remind me to look at the bigger picture. Because living in the chaos that we are right now needs to be embraced. I cannot change the fact that I'm single. And I refuse to put my goals and dreams on hold because I'm single. So I'm going to have to embrace the chaos that is my life right now.

How do I do it? 

Sometimes, I don't. 

I drop the ball at least once a day. Just this morning, I was SO proud of myself because we got out the door on time! As I drove up to the kids' school, I looked over at my front seat and defeatedly asked the kids, "Did anyone grab Leo's bottles for daycare?". I already knew the answer before they could reply. I hadn't asked anyone to grab them so why would they have grabbed them?

Tears began to stream down my face, realizing all of my hard work from the morning wasn't going to do me any good. I was still going to be late for work.

Defeated was the only word I could think to describe it, really. And this is not just a one time thing. I try to stay on top of everything but it's inevitable that something falls through the cracks.

Usually, it is that my house is a disaster and the dishes have started to smell. Or that the kids haven't finished their homework and gotten it signed. Or that Leo's gorgeous biracial hair has not been combed. Or that I haven't cooked a meal in over a week. Or that my homework is past due.

It's always something. There is always some area of my life where I can pinpoint failure. And if I let that eat at me, I am bound to sink into a pit of despair where I wonder HOW I'm EVER going to be successful at this life thing?

Because as you heard, forgetting bottles at home brought me to tears today...

So how do I do it? 

I just do it. I try to stay as organized as possible and I try not to beat myself up when some days just blow up in my face. I try to embrace the days we don't have a long list of things happening and I also try to embrace the days we leave our house at 7:00am and don't get home until 10:00pm (those days really do exist).

I am not Super Woman. I do not have super powers. All of these things I do, you would probably do if this were your life.

I am learning to respond with "thank you's" instead of deflecting my accomplishments. Because the truth is, even on the days where I fail at some things, I'm still doing pretty great. There are still a lot of things I'm doing right. So when someone tells me I am doing amazing things, I don't roll my eyes or say, "You should see my house right now.", I am learning to agree and thank them for noticing.

Because this Hot Mess Woman has got a lot of things going right and those things really should be acknowledged.

Me Too

You can tell her eyes are blue, even in a black and white picture.

But can you see her kindness? Her intelligence? Her compassion for others?

No. Because those are not things you can tell just by staring at her face. Those are things that come from within her soul.

She is my world and I plan on teaching her all of the beauty and heartache she may experience, being born a female in this world.

I worry about her because she will not grow up in the same world I did.

She will grow up in a world more perverted with sex and pornography being normalized.

And so I will start younger than my mother had to with me. I will make sure she knows that her worth is not based upon a number on a scale or a bra size or the shape of her face or the color of her eyes.

Because what I want more than anything is for her experiences to be different than mine, better than mine. I want her to have the self-esteem to say no and the knowledge to keep herself safe.

But it's sad that I even have to teach her these things. It's sad that we have to worry about safety and that we have to teach self-worth over and over again and hope it sticks.

***
Me too.
***

These are words you've most likely seen.

They've been on your Facebook news feed or you've seen them in articles recently.

After reading why my friends were posting this as their status, I knew I needed to join their voices.

I posted the status that I did for so many reasons. 

In high school, I had pretty low self-esteem. Attention from boys was my number one concern. And because of this, for the first three years of high school, I didn't say no when I felt uncomfortable. Luckily for me, the situations this placed me in were not as bad as they could've been but that doesn't mean they were non-existent.

And as a senior in high school, as my self-esteem started to rise a little, I said no for the first time that I can distinctly remember.  

I was sitting alone in a basement with a guy who I thought was my close friend. After a few minutes of talking, he leaned in and tried to kiss me but I pulled away and laughed a little. And then he tried it again {because that's apparently normal?!} and I verbally said, "No." but in a really kind voice. AND WHEN HE TRIED A THIRD TIME, I got pretty angry and fiery and I shoved him away and yelled, "No!" in his face, before running upstairs to be with the rest of our friends.

This rocked me for a while because I didn't understand why my polite "no" had been ignored. I didn't understand why it took me yelling at him and physically moving him for him to stop trying.

He was my friend. And I had trusted him before that moment.

And he betrayed that trust.

As an adult, I am so proud of 18-year-old Suzanne for shoving him away. I hope he learned as much from that experience as I did.

Sadly, what I learned is that I'm not always heard. I learned that sometimes the giggly "no" registers to the other person as "Not unless you work a little harder for it".

I didn't want him to work harder. I wanted him to stop. And he misread that---except it shouldn't have been misread. 

Because I used the word NO.

This was not the first time and it wouldn't be the last. But it was the most significant one in my memory.

Aside from this experience, I can remember a time in my life when I used to walk the 2-3 miles it took to get to work because I wanted to save money and get some exercise for my upcoming wedding. I remember how often a car would drive by and men would whistle in my direction or try to talk to me and I would ignore them.

I stopped walking because of how uncomfortable it made me.

They were never men my age. Always, always older. And I hated it so much that older men would find that appropriate or funny.

Because it wasn't.

So the "me too" campaign is personal. And I think it's something the majority of us can relate to.

We all want to be seen for more than what is on the outside.

I guess my hope is that we change.
My hope is that we continue to take a stand and say, "That's not right!" when we are put in positions that are uncomfortable and inappropriate.

Because I want better for the world my children are growing up in.

I'm Ignoring You

I imagine I was stubborn, even as a baby. I think I've just always been that way. 

In fact, for most of my life, my opinions often take their own course instead of following a particular crowd.

Like how I registered as a Republican when I turned 18 but I'm not really, truly a Republican or a Democrat. 

A lot of my stubbornness has been good---making it so I don't often quit the things I'm passionate about---but being stubborn has also held me back at times.

Being stubborn caused me not to be the best wife I was capable of being. There were times I would stand my ground and yell until I was blue in the face that I was right(!) but there were also times where being stubborn caused me to fight harder to save my marriage. {Although we've witnessed how well that worked out. Just kidding...kind of.} 

Being stubborn causes me to not always be the best mom I know I can be. There have been times where I am absolutely out of line when reprimanding my kids but being stubborn has also caused me to fight as hard as I can to give my kids a beautiful life.

It's a quality I love and a quality I hate. 

Being stubborn brought a tattoo and a lot of extra piercings, some of them as a direct result of knowing I was being told NOT to get them.

And being stubborn made it so that no one could convince me NOT to leave the LDS church in 2015.

No one. 

And really, that's going to be my main topic today because it's been on my mind a lot and that's kind of how this whole blog thing works.

When I left the LDS church and started attending a Christian church, everyone had opinions.
They always do. 
So depending on who I was talking to, I was either making the greatest or the worst decision of my life.

I distinctly remember feeling like my head was spinning because I hated how contrasting everyone's opinions were.
And I distinctly remember when the thought came into my mind, "Suzanne, you're stubborn! Stop listening to everyone else and start listening to yourself!" 

And so that is what I promised myself I would do. 

I spent a lot of the past 2 years ignoring people---all of the people.
In fact, you were probably ignored by me somewhere in there. 
I think the hashtag #sorrynotsorry would be appropriate right here. 

That being said, I'm kind of still ignoring you. All of you.
Because that promise to myself is still true today.

I made a decision to go back to the LDS church on my own. It wasn't because of something someone said to me. It wasn't because I like Mormon people more than I like Christian people. It wasn't because I was running away from something bad or running back to something familiar.

I came back because I had a conversation with God. It's pretty simple. 

And since coming back, the same things have been happening that were happening a year ago. Some of you are telling me I'm making the best decision of my life while others have reached out because they are worried about my salvation.

And just as true as it was a year ago, I find myself hearing what you're saying and thinking, "Wow. It's incredible how many people love and care about my family!"

But simply put, I'm still going to ignore what you're saying. 

Because I know---undoubtedly I know---that I am in the best place at the best time for my family.

I left the LDS church because I felt God closer somewhere else. And now, I can sit here today and tell you that since returning to the LDS church, I feel God closer to me now more than I have in the past 29 years of my life.

I appreciate your concerns and your praise---you know, depending on which side you're on.
I love knowing how loved we are by you. 

But this decision has not ruined my salvation.
This decision is what is saving me. 

On the days where I feel bombarded by people telling me I'm headed down Satan's path, I get a little discouraged and just wish we could all build each other up instead of pointing fingers and telling each other what we are doing wrong.

But then I try and remind myself that each of you are following a path you wholeheartedly believe in. You have faith in your God and in your church beliefs. And you are all trying to help.

But I guess I just want you to know that you don't have to tell me that I'm right or that I'm wrong.

Because I know I'm doing the right thing. And my right thing doesn't have to match your right thing.

My right thing is only mine. 

So thank you for loving me. Thank you for caring about what happens to myself and my family. Thank you for sharing your faith in God with me.

But I'll take it from here. 
I've got this. :) 

2017

2016.

One of the most growing years I've had without really difficult challenges accompanying it.

This year was one of the most positive ones I've had since becoming an adult.

And I owe that all to my Heavenly Father. 

It's funny because, for years, I've begged Him for a break, a longer period of calm after the storm. Because although I recognize that He hasn't thrown all of my trials at me, I also have faith that He has the power to take my trials away.
And each time I was faced with a big one, I'd think, "Really? Didn't I ask for a break? Why oh why can't it just be calm for a while?" 

So while it hasn't just been a completely easy year, it was much calmer than the previous ones.

2016. 

The year I practiced authenticity and focused on my confidence. 

This part was difficult. Self-confidence does not come naturally to me. I've struggled with my body image since I was a child and this past year was no different.
But with everything these past few years have put me through, I can sit here and tell you that I CHOSE to ignore the eating disorder lies more days than not. I CHOSE to talk to myself more positively than I've ever done in the past.
My body and I may not always be friends---I might really struggle to like her---but I also realize that God created me in this body for a reason and that health, for me, needs to involve more positive talk and less hate.
And I believe I am finally at a point where I can start working on that more. 

2016. 

The year I finished three more semesters at Arizona State University. 

This year, my grades were not great. I struggled a lot, especially this past semester. Senioritis is a real thing. But I also finished 12 classes. I took numerous tests, wrote what felt like a million discussion board posts, and finished multiple research papers.
Juggling my school and home life was a major challenge for me but you guys, I ONLY HAVE ONE MORE SEMESTER!
And I am going to successfully finish this last semester and graduate in May. 

2016. 

The year I learned more about the Bible and tried to stay true to what God wanted for me. 

'Tried' being the keyword.
There were times I fell off that path, where God wasn't really a major part of my decision making processes. There were times I woke up in the morning after making childish choices the night before and wondered what the heck I was doing.
I wasn't always following God's path---but instead trying to fit Him into my path.

And I believe that is the reason this has all happened so quickly. 

I believe I was supposed to learn certain things outside of the LDS church. I believe there were experiences and church services I was supposed to be a part of to teach me more about myself and about what I believe this life is about.

I believe I am a better Suzanne because of the religious decisions I've made in the past two years.
I have learned so much outside of my comfort zone and that has made me more confident in my every day choices.

And a major key in choosing confidence and authenticity for 2016 had to do with religion. 

People would ask me why I had left or what I believed and it scared me to answer. I hated answering those questions. I felt so inadequate, as I've often felt when it comes to religion.
So when I decided that I was going to be an authentic Suzanne, I made a decision to answer questions more honestly, more confidently, and also opening myself up to listen to the other sides of those conversations.

I've had conversations with Mormons who expressed their opinions of non-denominational Christianity.
I've also had conversations with non-denominational Christians who have expressed their opinions of Mormons.

Both of these conversation types have brought me to a stronger foundation of who I am and what I believe.

2016. 

The year I finished 30 hours of PS-MAPP courses to become a licensed foster parent. 

This was another call from God, one I had felt compelled to seek out years ago but never felt like the timing was right.
This year, the timing was right. 
And in the near future, my licensing should be complete.

This choice was not decided upon lightly and it has not been an easy journey. I have prayed so much about this decision that will alter our family dynamic.
But after everything my Heavenly Father has done for me, I am not going to argue with Him just because I am scared.

Because---confidence. 

I almost backed out of this process earlier in the year because the thought of opening my home to more children and potentially being blamed or scrutinized by the state or others involved in the process was more than I thought I could handle.
But God just kept bringing it up---and when I finally made the call to start my license, everything fell into place smoother than it ever should have.

I also held off on this for a while because I was worried it would interfere with my single/dating life---which is just downright hilarious because that part of my life is non-existent. But I worried about this for a while and prayed about it before realizing that I am not going to put my life on hold for greater things just because I am single.
I'd be happy to be dating but I'm also happy right now.

And I won't be sitting around waiting for my life to change before doing what God wants me to be doing.

If He tells me I need to stop or that I am needed elsewhere, I'll listen and obey that call.

But for now, I feel like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

2016 was one for the books.
It was positive and authentic and scary at times. It was full of spiritual and emotional growth.

And a few weeks ago, as I was considering what I wanted to work on in 2017, a new song by Danny Gokey came on the radio that impressed upon me my word for this coming year.

There's a brokenness inside of you
There's a wound that still reminds you
Of the fear, shame and rejection 
You have seen it, you have seen it

You know it's time to get up
But your heart's paralyzed, you're so stuck
You're past the point of trying again
You're defeated, you're defeated

But something inside you can't deny
You hear the call of your creator
I made you for more, unlocked the door
I wanna restore your glory

So rise
Breaking the dark, piercing the night
You're made to shine
An army of hope
Bringing the world
A radiant light
A radiant light
You were made to rise

Lift your head and look around you
See the dreams you lost, they have found you
And the heart that once was beating
Is coming back to life
Coming back to life

Shut the door on yesterday
Leave what happened in the grave
You were made to rise
You were made to shine
Creations longing for the day
For kings and queens to take their place
You were made to rise
You were made to shine

Rise
Breaking the dark
Piercing the night
Made to shine
Bring the world
A radiant light


As I listened to the words in this song, I knew what my word for 2017 would be.

Rise. 

Because although I feel like I am right where I am supposed to be, there is still so much to do.

There is still so much growth ahead. 

And I will rise above the negativity and the anxiety. I will rise above the impatience and the laziness.

I will fight for myself, for my children, and for the people that I love. 

When I am needed, I will rise. When I am called upon, I will rise.

This year, both of my children will be baptized and I have made a goal to attend a temple session every month. This is a goal I made when speaking with God last month. I promised Him that if He would guide me through 2017, I would do everything in my power to plant myself firmly in His gospel.
I am scared---but I don't make promises lightly and this is important to me. 

I did this a few years ago, before leaving the church, and it was one of the most positive experiences I've had.

This year, I made a goal to cook more, become more organized, and be more present with my children.
They need me. So much, they need me. And when they need me most, I want to be available.

This is the year that I rise above the negativity and the fear that grips me so often and become a more loving and patient Suzanne.

I believe I am capable of so much and I plan on continuing to learn and grow.

The Next Right Thing

I've tried to deny God many times in my life.

More times than I'd even care to admit.

But thankfully for my ever-doubting brain, I have been given some pretty distinct answers to prayers in my life---and sometimes I've been given answers to things I didn't even pray about.

The most significant spiritual experience I've had was the day before my husband left me.
I was driving my kids to my parents house and heard a voice---clear as day---that said, "Just remember that you have a really good life." 
I kind of chuckled and thought, "Duh!", because at the time, I felt like my life was pretty incredible.
But as I sat there, I took an opportunity to count some of my most cherished blessings.
And the next day, as I was driving away from the home that my husband had just let me know he was moving out of, I was hit with the previous day's experience. "Just remember that you have a really good life." And all of the things I had counted as blessings the day before? I still had them. They still existed and separation/divorce could not take those things away from me.

Did that stop me from struggling or becoming angry or feeling betrayed? No. I still had to keep my head barely above water throughout the divorce process and the years since then.
Some days, I'm still barely keeping myself and my family afloat.

Another significant experience I've had with God came at a time in my life when I was in a pit of despair and struggling through some very private and horrific events that had occurred in my life. I was so angry and although I did not deny God in that moment, I was angry at Him. I yelled at Him. I didn't deny His existence but I denied His glory and love for me.
I was laying on my couch, yelling at Him at the top of my lungs, telling Him that if He wanted me to trust Him, he'd need to hit me over the head with a ton of spiritual bricks because I was done!
Done!
And although I was not handling things in a very productive manner, He still sent me exactly what I had demanded. Instead of a clear voice in my ear, He used another person and sent me a text with a scripture from a friend that had no way of knowing just how significant that scripture was in that moment.
It was kind of incredible.
In fact, not kind of.
It was truly incredible.

Since then, my journey of faith has not been easy, nor has it been very steady. 

At the beginning of this year, I chose to focus on authenticity toward myself, in hopes that I could learn how to shut out my fears of what other people think of the life I'm living.
I wanted it to matter to myself and to God. I didn't want input or opinions on what I should or could be doing. I wanted to figure it out on my own.

My people have been incredible through this. They have watched me make choices that don't align with theirs and they've just loved me unconditionally. That alone has been one of the sweetest parts of my journey---the love that I've found in places I was afraid it wouldn't exist. 

It's funny because as I sit here tonight, I'm realizing just how much I still haven't figured out and yet, I have learned so much in the past 18 months. I have grown so much. I have been so brave and have tried to be as authentic as possible.

One mantra that I've really tried to adopt in those moments where life just feels like too much to handle is stated below.

There have been many times in the past year and a half where I've wondered what I was supposed to be doing. I'd look at the future as one big picture and get overwhelmed with how hard it all looked.

And so I started doing "the next right thing".

When I get overwhelmed or I feel like I cannot make big decisions, I listen to my heart and follow what feels like the next right thing in my life.

This might sound simple but it really isn't.

Sometimes I'll feel like something is "the next right thing" and it still looks or feels too hard.

But I've tried really hard to stay true to that motto. 

I have learned a lot through the perspective of "the next right thing". I have made some really brave, scary decisions because of this promise that I made to myself. I have taken steps in directions I didn't necessarily want to go because, when praying, I discerned that those decisions were my next right thing.

And I'm so grateful that when my "next right thing" feels to scary, I have supporters to lean on.

As this year comes closer and closer to ending, I have been overwhelmed with gratitude for my New Years goal of confidence and authenticity in 2016. I think I've stayed true to that goal more than any of my previous ones---and that's saying a lot because I really do feel like I've done well with my goals for 3+ years now.

I've already prayed about my word for 2017 and chosen a path but we will get to that in a different post.

In the meantime, I will continue living my life, choosing the next right thing.

To My Friends Who Voted For Donald Trump

They told me that I shouldn't be hurting. 

These things happen. 

They told me to stop overreacting. 

I should've seen this coming. 

And I did. 

Even in my most perfect world, I had always known this was a possibility. 

I wrote the above in my journal last weekend.

Friends, it has not been an easy week. Last Sunday, I received some news that really shook me and impacted my heart much more than I ever thought possible. I found myself a puddle of tears much of Sunday afternoon and Monday.
And then on Tuesday at 2:30am, I woke up sick and threw up *7* times between 2:30am and 10:00am. Again, the tears from how badly my body was hurting.
And then on Wednesday, while still trying to recover from "the sickness from hell", I woke up and realized that Hillary Clinton had not won the presidential election. And in that moment and in many moments since then, I've wanted to cry.

Last week was hard. 

And as I tried to explain some of the pain I was feeling in my heart, some of my people just didn't get it.

That happens sometimes. And I can't always blame them for it because sometimes, people just can't understand.

But here I was, feeling some pretty awful feelings regarding a personal matter in my life and then signing on to my social media sites to see awful posts about how I'm a cry baby and how uneducated I am.
You may not have known you were directing those comments at me but you were.

I may not be protesting Donald Trump but I am still trying to figure out how I'm going to support him as the elected president.
I may not be telling you that YOU are racist/sexist because I don't believe that voting for him makes you those things but I am not going to tell you that I don't believe those things about Donald Trump.

And every time I see those posts about how Hillary Clinton supporters are baby killers and idiots, it hurts---because I've known for months that I was going to vote for her and although I didn't want to debate it with others, it wasn't a decision I made because I am uneducated.

Hillary has flaws and you can say many negative things about her but I have yet to hear of her sexually assaulting other human beings or wanting to divide those of other races in our country.

And although it is not the only reason I voted for her, I went to bed last Tuesday night believing that we were shattering a glass ceiling that is long overdue to be shattered into a million tiny pieces. I was looking forward to telling my daughter about our first woman president and how great this was going to be for our society to see a woman in the highest job title in America.

I had a hard time feeling compassion for others on Wednesday. It seemed like every social media post was another slap in the face, another one of my friends reposting hurtful memes that felt directed straight at me.

And it was painful to witness.
It still is.

Because what a lot of you might not understand is the raw emotion a lot of us have been feeling.
Or the fear that our country is going to take steps in the wrong direction instead of what we believe is the right direction.
What you may not understand is that those of us who truly believed we knew the outcome based on polling data and our own high hopes now need to take the time to mourn and reprocess how we view all of this.

It may not make sense to you but it does to us.

Last Wednesday, I wrote a post on Instagram that said this:
"What I've learned throughout my life and even more so today is that you've gotta let people mourn their losses. You've gotta let people express their victories. But it is possible to do so while still loving.

I'm not happy today and maybe you are. Can we still be friends? Can you let me voice my sadness without telling me I'm wrong or uneducated? And in that same breathe, I will allow you to be excited, to share your joy without calling you wrong or uneducated.

You did what you believe is best and so did I.

One of us was going to be happy and the other one, sad.
But in the end, we are apart of something much bigger than this election.

We are Americans.

And right now, we're kinda sorta not acting like we are on the same side.

So let's give that a try and see how it feels."

I felt like it was the only thing I could say while watching so many of my friends tear each other's beliefs apart.

Because although I've not had an easy time with elections since I became of voting age (I've actually NEVER been on the winning end---go figure), this has been the first election where I've really been scared, where I've really questioned HOW this could ever work out without our new president truly damaging our society.

The reality is, I'm just going to have to wait and see. 

And the even bigger reality, the one I really like, is knowing that I still have the power within me to make a difference in this world. I can still be loving and kind and empathetic toward others. I can still teach my children what I want to teach them and raise them to be kind and honest and loving toward the people in their lives as they grow up.

I am not powerless just because my voice didn't feel heard in this election. 

I have the ability to make this world a better place and that is what I plan on doing.

My hope is that we can all take some extra time and think before posting on social media in the future.
Is what I'm about to say directed negatively at others?
Is what I'm about to say kind and loving?
Is what I'm about to say something that I would say to a person in real life?

And my personal favorite (and the one I use when helping my children decide whether their choices are aligning with how we are striving to live),

WWJD?
{What would Jesus do?}

So Maybe I Failed

Sometimes it’s hard or weird to reconnect with people through social media or in real life that I haven’t seen or heard from in the past 4+ years.

Because my first thought, my initial fear, is that they’ll look at the facts of my life and believe that I have failed.

And this is probably irrational because nobody has come up to me and said, “Hey Suzanne, you really failed miserably at that whole marriage thing. And now you're overweight with purple hair, a tattoo, and a nose ring. Sounds like the problem is YOU.” 

But more so than this being a rational fear, I’ve come to realize that it’s an internal fear.

And it’s not an internal fear because I just have this belief that people are critical of me. It’s an internal fear because I used to be that condemnatory, judgmental person. 

I cringe thinking about how I once was that person. 

Because if you just pray more or work harder in your marriage, those things don’t dissipate.

Right?

Wrong. 

I've learned a lot these past few years and one thing I've really come to know is that you can't judge a book by it's cover OR even by it's prologue. 

Because you won't get all the facts. 

And in truth, you may never get all the facts. Ever. 

Although I've talked about the "why" of my failed marriage, there are actually so many "why's". There are so many times we fought for each other and there are so many times we fought against each other. 

And as my husband was piecing his puzzle back together, I was also changing. I was growing and molding into this person that I very much liked---a stronger and more opinionated Suzanne. I started asking questions and learning more about why I am the way I am (Although, all that really did was give me a list of "disorders" on my medical records). 

I struggled with this love/hate relationship against myself because on the one hand, I've had a hard time with self-esteem and believing in myself but on the other hand, when I really sit down and think about it, I love the person that I am. 

It’s been a really hard summer for me. Finding babysitters for my kids and missing out on so much time with them has not been easy. Struggling through and then quitting my job teaching dance was not easy. Co-parenting is not easy (Will it ever be?). The anniversary of being on my own is coming up and that isn’t easy. Summer school was not easy (and I failed a class for the 2^nd time in my college career). 

There have been nights where I feel like I'm back to square one, where I lay in my bed and feel the anxiety take over like it used to when I first became a single mom. 

I feel all of this pressure to be a good mother and a good student and a good coworker and a good friend and one any given day, I'm sure to drop the ball in at least one category. 

And then some days, new conflicts arise and I think, "But it was already hard yesterday without this new conflict!" and I wonder how I'm going to keep going. 

But I do keep going. 

Although this summer has felt pretty messy, today in particular was not my best day. My anxiety was winning and I was just letting it win because I was tired of fighting. 

I was letting other people dictate my emotions and I was feeling really low when I pulled up a blog post (here) from one of my favorite public figures, Glennon. 

And as I read about her separating from her husband, her words hit me with such strength. 

There is a excerpt from her post that I wanted to share here because she says it far better than I could ever describe.

"But what can happen over time is this: You wake up one day and realize that you have put yourself back together completely differently. That you are whole, finally, and strong – but you are now a different shape, a different size. This sort of change — the change that occurs when you sit inside your own pain — it’s revolutionary. When you let yourself die, there is suddenly one day: new life. You are Different. New. And no matter how hard you try, you simply cannot fit into your old life anymore. You are like a snake trying to fit into old, dead skin, or a butterfly trying to crawl back into the cocoon, or new wine trying to pour itself back into an old wineskin. This new you is equal parts undeniable and terrifying.

Because you just do not fit. 

And suddenly you know that. And you have become a woman who doesn’t ignore her knowing. Who doesn’t pretend she doesn’t know. Because pretending makes you sick. And because you never promised yourself an easy life, but you did promise yourself a true one. You did promise – back when you were putting yourself back together – that you’d never betray you again." 

As I read this, I just sat there, nodding my head. Because this thing that I was so worried about---the silly critics and their uneducated judgments---does not need to exist inside of my mind, even if it exists in reality. 

Because I have put myself back together differently. I am a completely different person than I used to be. 

And when I put myself back together, I did it more carefully. I thought about what I wanted out of life and what I felt the point of life even was. 

And after every messy thing I've been through, I've learned that the person I need to stop betraying is myself. 

Because when the kids are in bed at night and I'm sitting all alone, I'm all I've got. And I need to be able to trust and love this person that I am so that when things are hard (which is inevitable on occasion), I can rise up like the warrior that I am and fight for myself. 

How did we get here?

Sometimes I just stare at old pictures of my kids and think to myself, "How did we get to this place in our lives so quickly? How did you both grow up from babies into children who are independent and kind and busy and intelligent and sassy?"

How did we get here?

That question has been on my mind with many things lately.

How did I get to this particular place in my life, living in this home, going to school full time, with friends who love me and people who really dislike me, working at a dance studio, single?

Each of those pieces of my life have their own story, their own patchwork of tiny stories that make up what brought me to that particular spot at that particular time.

And I've often wondered what would've happened if I had made different choices, said different words, reacted differently---would I still be where I am right now?

Would the same people still love me and the same people still dislike me? Would I be pursuing a degree in Counseling? Would I be a mother of two children? Would I be single?

And then I tell myself, "Well, Suzanne, hindsight is always 20/20." 

For all of the mistakes I've made that have brought me here, I actually couldn't have done any differently than I did in those moments---because I didn't know better.

And now that I know better, would I change it? Would I change my divorce or my failed friendships or my eating disorder or the religion I was raised in vs. my religious beliefs now or any of the other things that have brought immense pain or confusion into my life?
No. I don't think I would. 
Because I was forced pushed to grow from each of those experiences.

I look back on who I was a year ago, back to the days where I thought I was going to die or maybe even that I wanted to die, and I am so glad I didn't give the people who disliked me enough power over my thoughts to control my choices.
Even the anger I experienced and the bullying I experienced---I wouldn't change it. None of it. Because although it was painful, I managed to hold my head up high and love the people who loved me a little better.

I learned what to do and what not to do. I learned who I want to be and who I don't want to be. 

So as I look at my kids and how much they've grown, I think about what life was like when they were little and my bubble felt so much safer---and today? Today I'm ok with the fact that my bubble isn't as safe.

I may have to fight harder. I may have to struggle with my eating disorder every single day right now. I may have to work through anxiety when I'm trying to open up and trust someone.

But I'd rather be this girl than be wrapped up in a bubble where I'm not able to empathize or love as deeply as I've learned how to do. I'd rather be this girl who knows what she wants and who she is and why she's here.

Because although my life isn't perfect, I can tell you my response to each of those statements.
I know who I am. I know what I want. And I know why I'm here.
{And maybe in another post, I'll write down my responses to those statements.}

And I am so grateful that I am me. 

All Things Through Christ

Unapologetically me. Confident me.

Me. 

365 days ago, I was laying on the very couch I am sitting on now, yelling at God.
I know I've told this story in different ways on different occasions but it's been hard not to relive them today, to remember back to an incredibly dark time in my life and recount every detail from those days.

I've been told to move on and although nobody has the right to tell us to move on because we all grieve differently, the truth is that I have. I am a much stronger person and the after-effects of that horrible weekend last March don't wound me quite as deep as they used to. I'm able to let them fall off of me more quickly.

I can remember back to this very day and telling God, "I KNOW you can make this go away. I KNOW you have the power to erase it. I KNOW you know how deeply this hurts everyone involved. SO WHY? WHY have you not fixed it? WHY have you allowed it to happen? WHY?!"

I was so angry at God...angrier than I've ever been...and it was one of the first times I can really remember directing my anger AT Him.

And He never made me feel bad for doing so. In fact, God knew that my anger was present because I was scared. I couldn't see how life was ever going to be ok. It felt good to yell and scream and release my anger.

It's like that scripture in 1st Corinthians, chapter 10, verse 13, that I used to believe meant that God would not give us more than we can handle.

Oh my gosh, you guys, I have definitely been given more than I can handle. Divorce alone was more than I could handle on my own.

But I don't believe that's what God was really saying. I think that scripture tells us that God will not give us things beyond our capacity and then leave us. Because truthfully, we can do anything with God next to us. We can get through the very things we believe we would never be able to handle.

Jesus makes things whole for us, even when they fall apart into a million pieces.

Talking deeply about the things I've been through this past year is not easy. Because I like telling you the parts where I'm brave and don't doubt my abilities.

But I doubted myself last year. 

And 364 days ago, I thought about committing suicide. I thought that my life was only ruining those around me. I thought there were people who would be better at mothering my children than I am.

I thought about giving up my own life, throwing in the towel I've fought so hard to earn over and over again.

Now that I'm here, a year later, I can tell you that beyond that darkness came a light far brighter than anything I've ever experienced. I fought harder than I've ever fought to regain my worth, my belief in myself.

I found myself growing closer to God in a way I never would've predicted. I started living for me and for my children.

I became more confident in myself and those times I doubted myself lasted fractions of what they used to last.

I have had three hundred and sixty four more days of memories because although I thought it would be better to give up, I didn't do it. I was so broken but I decided to put my trust in God.

I look back to how I felt in these very moments a year ago---despair, darkness, confusion---and I am so thankful I never gave up.

I am so thankful that I am here today and that I have a relationship with Jesus Christ. I have faith that He knows exactly what I've been through, since He suffered for me personally and was crucified by a group of people who did not understand Him.

I have never felt what He experienced but I do know what it is like to be misunderstood and hated. I know what it is like to try to explain your choices and have people ridicule you and want to hurt you.

As I sat through Good Friday service yesterday, tears streamed down my face. I didn't even think I'd cry or that it would be a super emotional day but as I listened to the story of Christ being crucified, I felt Him so close to me, reminding me that He's been there since the beginning and that He'll be there through the end.

Jesus Christ died for me. He died for you. And if we can remember that in our darkest hours, we can have hope that we can be made whole again.

Through Christ, all things are possible.

All things. 

Authenticity:2016

 We went to the snow recently. We'd been planning a similar trip for weeks but plans changed and we ended up in Strawberry, Arizona with some of our favorite people.

Once I got over the asthma problems and tired knees, it all felt so magical.

My children were happily playing on the hill and squealing with delight every few seconds. There were tears and fights every once in a while but there were much longer periods of happiness and giggles.

I sat down near a tree for a while and closed my eyes. The wind was singing and I had so many thoughts running through my mind.
Homework. Cleaning my house. Losing weight. Eating healthier. Organizing. Figuring my entire life out. 
I felt like there was so much I could be doing but I also knew that if I would've been home, I probably wouldn't have been doing any of those things.

On the drive home, there were no other adults in my car and I had some time to myself. I was questioning many different things and felt like my brain was on overload.
Why does that always seem to happen when I get some time to myself? Instead of relaxing, I am constantly trying to nitpick every aspect of my life to figure out where my successes and failures are.
It's exhausting.

I was thinking about church and my first post on this blog. That was incredibly intimidating to write and post. It was hard for me. In fact, I almost took it down a few times.

But then I remembered---confidence. 

And since then, I've been thinking a lot about confidence and authenticity and how the two can go hand-in-hand so easily. Because if you're authentic to yourself, you probably have confidence in yourself.

A few weeks ago, I was having a semi-difficult conversation with one of my closest friends. I had been feeling the push to be authentic because I don't want to pretend that I am someone different than the person I present myself as. We were walking and talking and my confidence was dwindling because I didn't have all of the answers.

My gosh, I don't know if I'll ever have the answers.

But lately, I've felt this push to talk about all of the things I don't have answers to and although it hasn't always been comfortable for me, I think it's been good for me.
And the best part about friends who challenge you like that is that you find yourself becoming a little bit stronger and possibly even a little bit wiser too.

I've felt this awkward-in-between stage of "Who is Suzanne" creep up on me. The stage where I'm scared to make the leap in a direction that will hurt some of my people. I really hate hurting people. But a conversation I had with another friend last August has stuck with me. We were talking about my testimony and what I believe and how I'm scared of hurting the people who love me and she said, "The thing is, Suzanne, you don't get to choose who you hurt or don't hurt. That is our choice. You have to let us feel that." And realizing that was extremely hard for me but also eye-opening.

I have hurt many people in my life and although it isn't always the case, most of them were hurt by things I cannot change or things I didn't deliberately do to them.

I'm starting to realize that that is life. We get hurt. We hurt people. It happens to everyone.

But a person's true colors shine when they are hurt by someone they love. They can choose to stick by their loved one's side or walk away.
Both of these situations have happened to me.
And although neither of these situations have been easy, I've had the opportunity to learn from each situation and realize the kind of person that I want to be.

I'm a little bit obsessed with the attributes of Christ right now---certainly not a bad thing to be thinking about a lot of the time---and I've been trying to remember Him when I react to the situations presented in my life.
Most of the time, I completely fail. Like today, when I yelled at Hayley to "Stop it!" and she melted into tears, thinking I had called her stupid (momfail).
But sometimes, I get it right. Sometimes I remember that self-control and sincerity can go much further than my impatience and sarcasm ever will. Sometimes I remember that my children are watching my every move and emulating my choices so when they yell at me, it's probably because I have raised my voice at them.

It's not easy. Becoming this person that I want to be, trying to stop and think, "What would Jesus do?"---these are not my "go-to" reactions.

But figuring this out and trying my hardest to become more like Jesus is the right thing to do.
It is what I want to do. 

And I believe that is when I become the most authentic---when I'm living for Christ and loving others with no expectations.

Christ is for me and He is for you. I think I love that concept the most. I love knowing that no matter what, He is our Savior. He died for all of us. He lives for all of us. He is for all of us.

And it is never too late to remember that. 

Confidence: ASU Semester #2

You know how people comment on adorable pictures with that phrase, "All the feels"?
That was the epitome of my emotions as I read this quote the other day.

All. The. Feels.

It reminds me of that new Demi Lovato song, "Confident", that my baby girl and I jam out to pretty regularly in the car.

Confidence is not my default. In fact, it's the opposite of my default. It is a thing I believe is possible so I fight for it every day of my life.

But it does not come easy.

I get anxiety if I think too far into the future---about future relationships, my kids getting older {and me not screwing them up}, and school.
School.
I've heard how demanding the Masters of Counseling program at ASU can be. I've been told that the odds are not in my favor. At all. And sometimes I question whether I'm doing the right thing or whether I'll get to the end of all this and realize I actually couldn't do it.

I tell myself failure isn't an option but I'm pretty sure I said that same thing in the beginning stages of my marriage and in the beginning stages of every diet I've ever started.

Failure is always an option. 

And I want to have the confidence with school that I do when I'm around my tribe of people who buoy up some fierce confidence within me every time I'm around them.

I'm scared that this isn't what I want---because I would've been so damn happy being a stay-at-home-mom for my entire life. I would've. And I still would if I were given the option.

But things have changed. I've realized that I need to be prepared for however much I'm capable of preparing for---and for me, that includes knowing that NO ONE can one thousand percent promise to always financially support myself and my children. No one.
There are a million different circumstances that could happen but the moral is that I need to be the strongest, best me that I can be---and although it isn't for everyone, for me, that includes a career path.

And while I'm on this journey, I am trying so hard to find the confidence to make it through one semester at a time, instead of stressing out over the bigger, more daunting reality that is my 3+ years of school left.

Saying that is so oddly incredible though. Because it used to be 6+ years. And I've made it this far already. And I've only failed two classes (because math is stupid hard). And I've learned an exuberant amount of things about psychology and sociology and myself.

And I think I like that the most---that throughout all of this, I am learning more about the person I want to be and the person I've been up until this point.

My new semester starts tomorrow. Pray for me. I get anxiety every time the new semester begins because I'm absolutely, positively sure it is going to be the semester that breaks me. So far, that hasn't happened.

And I'm trying so hard to have enough confidence to remind myself that I can do this---because my record so far is looking pretty darn good.