You Won't Care About this Post

The following is completely and entirely about me and I'm not sure if you'd even want to read it, because heaven knows that I wouldn't.  I like people, but nobody wants to hear the life story of even their closest friends.  And chances are that if you're reading this by some weird chance you don't know me all too well.  But as I have stated before, this is a blog, and it's my blog, so whatever.  I don't care.  All I can say is the best case scenario results in you learning from what my experiences that truthfully aren't all that unique or hard. Or maybe you can advise me.  Maybe someone who's going to change my life will read this.  Maybe I'll change yours. That'd be a cool story.

It's very simple:  I just finished my first year of high school, and there was enough drama and events that caused me to re-evaluate my life and I thought I'd document it on the interwebs because there's no better place to entrust your soul to than the cold and nonexistent heart of random strangers looking at a screen.  To be honest, I kind of hope my friends and family don't read this just because I'm going to have little to no filtered honesty here.  

I came into this year happy, hopeful, and ridiculously oblivious to what I wanted, what this world was really like, and what counts as an acceptable teenager that's supposedly smart.  I've started out most school years like that thus far, and I've always fallen into the same pattern:  I think you'd call it life.  I did pretty well school-wise, I made new friends, and I even had a lot of classes with the boy I liked.  There were some tough things ahead, I knew that, but I didn't necessarily feel it.  Even math at the time didn't feel completely unmanageable. Not surprisingly, it was one of the first things to go wrong.  Not even through the first quarter, I started to go down and ended up transferring from the advanced track of being two years ahead to just the two years ahead track with a bunch of juniors and seniors that did stuff like drugs or sit on their phones the entire class period.  This time launched several new things that I'm not sure I was ready for to come into my life.  

 Because I had far less homework because my new teacher was awesome, I now thought that it would be a good time to try my hand at Speech and Debate.  I had struggled against the idea for a quarter, but I was at a standstill when it came to extracurricular and the boy I liked was in it, and... yeah.  Suffice to say, I really liked this boy.  I was also dealing with some second-hand depression from a friend that I loved dearly but I was starting to learn had some struggles that I wouldn't wish upon anyone.  For some odd reason I had the notion that a generally depressing event would help with the effects of that.  One thing about me is that I tend to unintentionally mirror the moods of people I care about, so you can guess what that meant.  Not that I would trade that friendship for not knowing her and not learning what I did from her.  She's had such a wonderful impact on myself and others I hope one day she can see that.  

But when I entered into the team, I quickly ran into a boy that the previous year I had heard liked me.  He'd even asked me out through his friends.  Romantic, right?  He started to talk to me at meets during down time, and I'll admit that it was a crap ton of fun to speak to him.  This boy struck me as genuine, caring, and possibly over me.  Which was why I ended up giving him my number, even if it was kind of against my better judgment.  

At about the same time, I had a new seminary class, and there was yet another boy in that class who seemed to want to be friends.  He was not a crap ton of fun to talk to.  He, frankly speaking, got way clingy.  Bordering on stalking.  But I thought I was being sensitive and endured it.  Indulged it, even.  Eventually it got to be too much however, and I had the first difficult conversation of that year.  It ended up leaving me guilty for hurting someone like I did.  I don't think I handle that sort of thing too well.  

This I told, and more, to the boy on the speech team that now had my number.  I was careful not to share too much with him because it was becoming more and more clear that he liked me, and I didn't want to get to close to him.   But we were talking on a daily basis, and I ended up genuinely caring for him.  Just not in the way he wanted me to. On the Friday before Valentine's day, I received a display of flowers and chocolate from him in one of the most awkward and public exchanges I've ever had. I thought that that was maybe when I should tell him the truth about how we could never, ever date, but changed my mind last minute and ended up just calling him and thanking him for the gifts.  

A little before this came the third boy of this year, and by what I thought a miracle, it was the boy I liked.  We were to work on a project together.  We would talk for hours and hours on end, and I found myself constantly thinking that he was the perfect match for me.  It made sense in my head and most certainly in my heart.  And it was pretty clear that he liked me at least a little. 

So he was there when I got a text that was sent at two in the morning from the boy that had given me flowers and chocolate, telling me that he basically wanted to protect me and spend the rest of his life with me.  Cheesy as it sounds, I was crushed over it.  He had become a dear friend, and I couldn't avoid telling him the truth anymore.  The next Monday I pulled him aside and told him neither my religion nor my feelings would permit any sort of romantic relationship between us.  He walked away, and we haven't really spoken since.  

Maybe I'd be less guilty if it wasn't for watching one of my girl friends go through a heartbreak of her own, and listening to her talk about all that he was and had been doing wrong.  It didn't take much for me to realize that I was acting towards this boy as this ex had been acting towards her.  To think of how much she was hurting, and to think that I had done that to someone I still care very much about put me into the strangest state of mind for the rest of the year.  I think that it made me feel like a bad person in a way.  Despite my academic struggles, I had always been secure about the thought that I made good decisions when it came to not hurting others, and now that small bit of me was shaken too.  

The final final blow, however, was thinking that my...interesting year would come to an end when it did for everyone else.  I've found out that it's going to be extended into the summer, and I'm going to be told some things about myself that will be hard to hear.  I'm going to have to face some very scary and new facts.

If you've read this much this far, then I'm grateful.  I'm done telling my story now, and I'll tell you what I learned, which is the real point of this post.  

First, I learned that sometimes what will feel shameful can open up experiences that will turn you into a whole new person, and it requires a great deal of faith to believe that it's for a good reason.    

Second, I've learned that you need to consider the consequences of the relationships you enter, and how you enter them.  The slightest twinge of doubt, the slightest "maybe", even though it may be hard at the time, needs to not be so fleeting and something you actually consider.  And don't fall in love with the story or the struggle you know could occur out of this relationship.  Don't fall in love with any part of the story.  Stop yourself and think long and hard about it, and don't let excuses get in the way of your judgment.  

Third, I've learned that crap happens.  And that's where you need to be the best possible person and you don't complain.  

Fourth, I've learned that good people who are confident in their goodness have better friendships.  

Fifth, you cannot fairly judge a person for how they are in a relationship or past a relationship because then you'll just be a hypocrite. Girls in general like to think of themselves as victims because a lot of the time they are.  So they blame the boys in their lives for ruining it all.  We need to pause and consider what we've done.  In the sense of breaking hearts, we're pretty darn similar.  

And sixth, I've learned that finding out who you are isn't such a bad idea.  In fact, it's a pretty good one.  You can't be truly close with even your family until you have, and I personally want to be a whole person before I try to share it all with someone else.  

I didn't cover all of my story, or everything I've learned.  But those are the basics, and what I'm still working on.  I'd like to say that this all ends with a massive sense of self establishment, but it doesn't.  Nor does it end with me completely in the dark, however.  I'm somewhere in the middle.  I think that the important thing is that I'm accepting my place in where I stand with myself.  Once I know that I can move forward.  

Thanks for reading the late night post of a tired and emotional teenager.  I'm surprised you read it all the way through.  Unless if you scrolled to the bottom, which I can respect. Thanks anyways.  

Bye! 

Stop

You've clicked on this, so do me a favor. 

Stop. 

Just stop and consider all the good things in life and then go back on with life but leave all the bad stuff behind or do as best you can with it. 

Please stop. 

Resume. 

That is all.  Good day, and have fun.  :)

(P.S. I know this makes no sense, just go with it, man.)

Dear Girls My Age

Note before I start the letter:  I've been doing speech and debate pretty much nonstop for the past few weeks, which means that I have been observing a lot of dramatic content, which probably means that this is going to come off as emotional and, well, dramatic.  But it's genuine.  So just bear with me on this. 

Actual letter:

Dear girls my age,

Of late this has been weighing on me a lot, but before I began to realize that what I'm going to talk about is an issue, I had a completely different viewpoint.  Yet having recently written a book that was originally a romance, I have had to seriously consider what major changes that I want to make in it. Which required thought on what kind of message I want to convey, which made me realize that I had fallen prey to a mindset that disturbs me, and one that I am sensing and seeing more and more frequently. That problems like depression, sadness, or hard events are the best ways to build a strong relationship with someone.  And you may try to deny it, but for a second, just think about it.  Because I know that this was my philosophy in writing and occasionally life, but I never really put it into perspective. 

This is wrong, and it's a blatant lie that you tell yourself.  When I showed my friends my book, and after they read it, when I told them that I was seriously considering making Melody single, they were all against it, and the subtext that I had gathered from their comments was that she needed somebody to come along and make it better for her and her feelings of self doubt and sadness.  They adored it when Oliver (the love interest) came along and saw what was wrong, and made romantic gestures about it.  They were excited when she broke down in tears and cried on his shoulder while he whispered things about how he was always there for her in her ear.  And I have seen this in real life.  How dear, dear friends that I love very much want to be openly sad to attract the attention of the boy that they like.  That they want them to be always concerned about them, because apparently that is cute and sweet.  My question is:  Do you really think that being upset all the time is going to solve your problems?  Do you think that this is what makes true, genuine love?  Don't get me wrong, somebody who cares about you and your emotions is necessary too.  And exposing a little vulnerability is just fine.  But there is a difference between wanting someone to make your life all better because you are experiencing difficulties, and being there for someone.  I can understand that it gets confusing, and I don't entirely know the line myself. 

Here's what I think we can do about it, though:  We can put off our fantasies and visions of knights in shining armor, and learn to be happy with ourselves.  If there is something wrong with how you feel about yourself or life, then your current journey and story should not and cannot be about finding a soul mate.  It needs to be about finding out who you are, and being okay with it.  I get it, we're hormonal teenagers who have made the discovery of boys, and we are also so insecure about us.  This can't be a coincidence, right? 

I agree.  It isn't.  I think that it could be a test of our willpower and how we handle our issues.  Do we rely on someone else to fix them with hugs and kisses and whispered sweet nothings?  Or do we gain confidence in ourselves?  There's a reason that my church has so many guidelines about dating.  This may or may not be a reason, but to me it's a pretty good explanation.  You simply cannot properly love someone in a real and genuine way until you have learned that you can love yourself too.  Am I saying that you shouldn't get help if it's called for?  No, I strongly encourage that of anyone, and I think that that is a healthy solution.  But romance is not the answer.  Cheesy lines written in five paragraph essays/texts won't help you in the long run.  At least not in a real way.  If a guy doting on you because you struggle to even smile, then that is a delusion of love.  It's fake.  Don't think that you are above romance either, but know that romance is not above happiness.  You are better than any sadness or insecurity that the devil can plant in your head. 

Now, quick thing on what being secure means.  It does not mean that you are perfect and don't need to change a thing about you.  It means being happy, and being okay with changing things about yourself, certain aspects, because that is what being human is.  But it also means that you are invested in yourself, and that you care about your own well being.  It is being able to look in the mirror and smile at how pretty you are.  Security is something that you gain for yourself, and that you cannot receive.  Again, anything else is fake. 

Girls my age, please find your own kind of happiness.  Let others help you on your way, that's what we're here for.  Find good friends.  But please don't be sad for a boy, and don't think that he can actually fix all of it.  He can't, even if he does care about you.  You need to go out there and be the kind of story where you find out that you are the hero of it.  That is why there is a good chance Melody may single at the end of the day.  It's a message of my book.  That you are living your own story, and until you are no longer struggling to make it through the day without an emotional breakdown about how rough things for you, that you will be unable to share the rest of it with another person. 

I understand any arguments that may be made for this, I really do.  But this is the glory of the blog (and my stubborn headedness), that I can write this, and be absolutely immovable in this opinion.  I would greatly appreciate any pause for consideration, however, on your part if you're not for what I'm thinking.  And let me know your thoughts on this post and subject, I would love to hear it.

Love,

Lizzy 

Let's Talk About Happy Things

Okay, so I'm actually really, really jumbled up emotion wise right now.  Over the course of this past week, I have had increasing stress, miscommunications with a family member, and little time to do what's necessary to, like, survive. Very recently, I had something occur that helped quite a bit, but then of course today something had to go and put a damper on it.  (Not too much.  The something I'm talking about is pretty cool.)  But it is a Sunday that I am writing this on, so I think that it is appropriate to talk about the things I am grateful for, and maybe that'll help straighten things out. 

First and foremost, I am beyond grateful for my church.  It's true, I can say that much, and it has helped me through so many rough times, and has been there for the good, too.  I'm not a perfect little Mormon angel (I know nobody who is), but the great thing about the gospel is that the spirit is there for you, as long as you reach out.  I'm still learning about being on a personal relationship with my Heavenly Father, but I'm so very glad for the opportunity to continue getting there.  Whatever bad things you may hear about it, understand that it is the people who have made wrong decisions, and that the gospel in itself is perfect, which is one of the many reasons I love it so much. 

I'm grateful for my friends- all of them.  As a fairly shy and insecure teenage girl, let me tell you that good friends are one of the most important things you can have.  Each and everyone of them have been blessings in my life, and have come in at the times before or when I needed that person and didn't even know it.  I have ones who just listen to me, and .let me call them whenever I need the slightest pick-me-up, I have the ones who will get your mind off of it, and the ones who are always good for a laugh, but are wise and understanding at the same time.  They accept me as I am, but without their knowledge still encourage me to be a better person.  Once upon a time, I struggled a lot to find people who genuinely cared about other, myself included, and were compatible with me, so to anybody that reads this, thank you so much for being there, and being amazing.

I'm grateful for my family.  So, I'm kind of annoyed by one or two of the members right now, but believe it or not, I still love them.  (It shouldn't be hard to believe),  Lately, as I have been spending more time away on weekends, I've realized just how much I rely on my home, siblings, and, yes, parents.  They're cool.  I feel like there is a certain amount of faith in my potential as a human being, which I believe is needed.  Oh, yeah.  We're imperfect.  But that's okay.  We have eternity to sort it out. 

I'm grateful for education.  Again, slightly a sore point for me right now, not because I don't think I'm smart, I just lack in the organizational abilities required for the socially acceptable levels right now.  But, I'll admit, it's necessary.  Do I have to say more about that?  I don't want to. 

I'm grateful for this country.  Dude, it's not perfect, but it's not terrible either!  We have freedoms and luxuries that I don't think happen a lot of other places.  I can write this!  I'm well fed, and I can worship as I choose. 

And, mostly. I'm grateful for the cat.  (I'm rolling my eyes, don't worry).  Jack, this is for you, buddy.  Love you.

Okay, I'm obviously grateful for a lot more.  But the truth is, I haven't written in a while, so this feels sufficient right now.

Thanks for reading! 

Bye! 

What You Need to Know Before You Join Speech and Debate

This is not a hate post.  I do not hate Speech and Debate.  I think that it's a wonderful program, and I think that it teaches you a lot of things, and more life skills than most of what you are taught during the school day.  Certainly more than you would with football, which I have never understood.

But- and there of course must be a "but" part of my statement-  it has some flaws, as do most things.  And this is a blog, so I'm not going to fluff this anymore than I already have (because I don't have to, haha)- I won't bull-crap you like that.  But there are some things that I have problems with, and I'm not sure whether they'll apply to you or not, but without further ado, here they are. 

Okay, with this activity, before you join, you need to understand that this absolutely cannot be something that you have a half interest in.  You can't have a hobby that requires more or equal to commitment, because this needs to be a main focus in your life.  I'm not even exaggerating.  Homework?  Backburner.  Writing a novel?  Don't even think about that until you've cut a piece and have it well-read.  At this point, here's where most people tell me, "Well, why don't you just quit?"   Okay, just stop.  If you want to have any hope of doing well in Speech and Debate, you'd better have a fancy getup and, if you're a girl, about ten pounds of makeup.  You have to look nice.  And that means money.  Just for speech.  So stop requesting that I quit.  I'm in this, and I don't really have a way out of it.  I'm stuck.  So know this before you join: Speech and Debate requires money, and more time than you usually have.  This is a commitment that I like to think of as being married to a traveling spouse.  Or being the traveling spouse.  I wouldn't suggest being a hopeful writer and also doing this.  It doesn't work, and I'm learning that the hard way.  I'm not even supposed to be writing this right now. 

Also, you have to be a happy person.  A very happy, confident, hopeful person, because Speech and Debate is as depressing as heck.  I'm in the acting department of it all, where you read poetry and talk about dead puppies and try to get people to cry about it, so of course you're probably thinking that this is obvious, but no.  The sad seriousness is everywhere except the one and a half events specifically for funny stuff.  You want to debate?  Great, have fun talking about how everybody is dying because of guns, and trying to convince people that it's the right thing to do... I don't even know.  So I'll admit, I'm not the best person to talk about this.  But the topics are the same and very rarely unique.  I know.  I have classes with some very smart, some very dedicated debaters, and they talk of nothing else, and it's really annoying.  I have to wonder how we're not all depressed and paranoid at the end of the day.  I don't think that it's right that everyone is fighting for things that could make us happy, and they're too worried about getting other people to worry about sad stuff that does not make people happy.  Maybe if we were all happier, then there would be less things to be sad about, if that makes sense.  And, disclaimer, I'm not saying that things like rape aren't an issue.  They are, and we're trying to do something about it.  But not every minute of our lives needs to be spent in misery, okay?  It's okay to smile. 

Oh, and one more thing about acting events.  It has a very bad habit of romanticizing depression, anxiety, and rape.  And the sick thing is that if you're a cute little person, then they say that you're perfect for playing that part.  I've seen this in writing, too, so I think that this is just a general pet peeve, but I've seen so many times others make these really horrible things look like a good way of getting attention, and/or of living your life.  I don't really know how to describe it, but there is a difference between using a person and common problem to make others aware of the issue, and of making it seem like the appealing sort of drama.  I frankly find it offensive, because they are often portrayed inaccurately.  It's always acted like it's something as simple as a romance that is what causes it or makes it go away.  It may be a trigger, but it' not the entire problem.  Insecurities and just feelings in general play a huge role, I'm pretty sure.  Stop trying to simplify the issue, please.  Take it for what it is:  a problem that is a part of the person's life, but not the entire person, and much more complex and hard than you make it out to be. 

So, essentially, this is my novice conclusion.  Ahem, Speech and Debate is really just great, and I mean that.  But it is also like permanently tattooing your entire personality with stiffness and professionalism and sad things.  You need to be almost to the point where you feed on controversy, discontentment, and stress. 

Thank you for reading, and I'm sorry if this was offensive, but I'm pretty sure that a speech person could easily argue this. 

But the thing is, I openly acknowledge that this is an opinion. 

So don't argue it, my dear speech loving family, because this is how I feel. 

Bye!

My Boy Problem

If you are the boy that I am talking about, and reading this, then, first of all, your stalking problem is worse than I thought, and second, I'm sorry.   But please take a hint. 

But since you are probably not the boy I'm talking about, let me explain.  A month or two ago, I had a class transfer in math.  I was on an advanced track that was two years ahead of where I was supposed to be, and I was failing and absolutely miserable.  So I decided to be bumped down to a slower track, which has been much better.  What wasn't better, however, was that I now had a different seminary class so that we could fit this new thing into my schedule, and I was and still am the only freshman kid in there.  (Okay, that's a lie.  There's another kid there, and she's very nice.  She just doesn't want to be there.)  But I loved seminary anyways, and I was going to do my darndest to be positive about it.  And a day or two into it, there was this thing where we made these cute little videos applying to a gospel doctrine, and ours was something having to do with family values.  I ended up being a wife in a polygamist family (disclaimer to the non-member:  Mormons don't do polygamy; we were just making fun of it, I guess), and was, of course, very polite to my "husband".  We took a picture, and so this new life took place. 

I started to walk to seminary with my "family", not that we had to or anything, they were just really nice, and I knew a couple of people.  Yeah... well, my supposed husband seemed to think me being friendly was a way of some serious flirting.  And, okay, there's something you need to understand.  I don't think I'm a huge flirt, but when I do, the guy never cares.  Boys don't usually like me!   So maybe I did a little bit of flirting, yeah.  But he got a little bit too excited about it. 

It was pretty slow at first, him talking mainly to me, him starting to do some friendly teasing of his own, stuff like that. .  I remember this one time, I was having a little allergy problem with peanuts, and I had to run back into the seminary building to take my Benadryl, and he was actually late to his class because he was waiting for me.   But then I started to leave with the rest of the group without him, and he got kind of upset with me about it.   So I started to wait for him, which was a mistake.  Every morning, I go out and hang out with a friend in the library, and he began to come there every morning, and at first, he didn't say anything, but then he approached me, and would talk non-stop, and then started walking me to my first period.  I went to a dance, and he followed me everywhere then, too.  There were a couple of times he tried to get me to hold his hand in a group dance circle thing we were doing. 

Um, yeah.  So I started getting freaked out, and was actually really depressed about the fact that I would have to hurt this guy's feelings. 

I have pretty much zero experience in turning people down, so this was a whole new thing for me.  And believe it or not, I don't rejoice in the pain of others.  It just ain't nice.  But I would have done it, had he actually made a move on me aside from just being creepy.  But he wasn't doing it, so unless if I was going to be a jerk, I'd have to let him hang out with me.  All.  The.  Time.  With him and only him talking.  And saying weird things.  While I sat like a good girl and sat and listened and smiled. 

Okay, well, last week, I made the choice that I was going to do everything I could to stop him from doing stuff.  Because I was just done.  It was creepy.  I was scared.  Truly genuinely on the edge of being terrified.  So I started acting more dismissive than I thought that I ever thought would be necessary.  And yet he still didn't get it. 

Oh, and get this, I was walking (unwillingly) with him one day, and I waved to this one guy with a mental handy-cap, and he got so mad! I'm pretty sure I heard him mutter "oaf" under his breath.  And I was, frankly, pissed.  Earlier, he was using lines on this other girl, and here he was, not even letting me say hi, when we weren't even a couple! 

So, eventually, on Thursday last week, I just went to seminary a different route and didn't bother to wait.  And I left the building without him.  I thought he was mad at me, because he was sort of acting like it, and on Friday he was absent, so I didn't have anything to worry about then.  Sure, I felt bad, but he was freaking my friends and I out.  It wasn't good, so I wasn't too guilty about mostly being relieved, either. 

But guess what he did today? 

He followed me around. 

I'm not happy.  I'm just not.

So, if you're the boy who I'm talking about, I'm sorry.  You're nice and I like you.  You'll find a nice girl who is head over heels someday.  But I'm not that girl, so back off.  I'm scared of you, and that's not a way to make someone want to marry you. 

Bye!

I Finished a Novel!

I've mentioned in a previous post that I don't like my book.  I thought while writing it that it was absolutely terrible.  In some cases, I still think that.  But right now, I'm over-looking that, because I finished it! 

Today I had a bunch of time to write, and I just hammered out that sucker and finished it.  Honestly, I was sort of getting sick of it, so I may have rushed it a little.  Possibly a lot. 

I'll fix it later. 

But I finished a novel!  I used to think it would take me until adulthood to do that much, and I thought that I would then publish that book.  I don't think I'll publish this, but we'll see where the editing gets me, and what my mom thinks, because I'm going actually let her read it now.  Yeah... it's scary.  Especially when your mother hates chick-lit, but that's what I wrote, and she's good at feedback, so we're going to do that.     

Of course, now comes the scary "what now" of it all.  Do I try to publish it? I'm pretty darn sure that it's not that good, and at times horrible enough that it would be a no, and that's okay, but like I said, we'll see.  First I need to edit.  But then comes some other questions.  Like, I'm actually considering turning it into a series.  Or do I just move on to the British super-hero book I want to write?  Will Wattpad still love me?  Will I still love it?  They're important questions.  And now I have to face them.  #scary

But it'll be okay, I'm sure.  I'm going to keep working at this, and I'll get there.  I do have a game plan for what I do want to publish in future years.  It's this one idea I've had since, like, the second grade.  I'll tell you about that later.  But, what I mean to say is, that this was never my intention to go further than Wattpad. 

Now, my brain is fried, so I'll just tell you some facts about my book, and then we'll be done. 

Fact One:  This was roughly 67,568 words.  I plan on lengthening it quite a bit. 

Fact Two:  It was 136 pages, single spaced, size 11.  Again, I'll lengthen it. 

Fact Three:  I was writing this for about 11 months.  Possibly longer.

Fact Four:  Excluding the prologue and epilogue, it was 22 chapters. 

Fact Five:  My favorite chapter was chapter four.  I made people cry.  It was fun.

Fact Six:  If I were to write a sequel, then I would have Melody end up with a different guy. 

Fact Seven:   Yeah... I don't know what else to say. 

Thanks to people who have read it and supported me.  Thank you, bye!